The Black Box

Jespersen case, Bosch had only one family connection, back in Copenhagen. The victim’s brother, Henrik Jespersen, was listed in the original reports as the family contact, and a 1999 entry in the chronological report noted an email address for him. Bosch sent off an email to that address, having no idea if it would still be good after thirteen years. The message was not kicked back but it also wasn’t answered. Two days after sending it, he re-sent it, but again it was not replied to. Bosch had then put the contact issue aside as he investigated and prepared to meet Rufus Coleman at San Quentin.
    Coincidentally, one of Bosch’s reasons for his early arrival at the office was to attempt to get a phone number for Henrik Jespersen and place a call to him in Copenhagen, which was nine hours ahead of Los Angeles.
    Henrik had beaten Bosch to the punch and answered his email, the reply landing in Harry’s email basket at 2 A.M. L.A. time.
    Dear Mr. Bosch, I thank you for your email which mistakenly diverted to my junk file. I have retrieved now and wish to answer promtly. Many thanks to you and LAPD for seeking the killer of my sister. Anneke is still very missed in our lifes here in Copenhagen. The BT newspaper where she work has brass plaque in place to commemorate this brave journolist who is a hero. I hope you can catch this bad people who kill. If we cantalk to one another my job phone is best to call at the hotel where I work every day as direktor. 00-45-25-14-63-69 is the number you will call.
    I hope you can find killer. It means very much to me. My sister was a twin of mine. I miss very much.
    Henrik
    PS: Anneke Jespersen was not on vaction. She was on th story.
    Bosch stared at the last line for a good long while. He assumed that Henrik had meant vacation instead of vaction . His postscript seemed to be a direct response to something in Bosch’s original email, which was copied at the bottom of the message.
    Dear Mr. Jespersen, I am a homicide detective with the Los Angeles Police Department. I have been assigned to continue the investigation of your sister Anneke’s murder on May 1, 1992. I do not wish to disturb you or cause you any further grief, but it is part of my duty as investigator to inform you that I am actively pursuing new leads in the case. I apologize for not knowing your language. If you are able to communicate in English, please respond to this message or call me at any of the numbers below.
    It has been 20 years since your sister came to this country for a vacation and lost her life when she diverted to Los Angeles to cover a city in flames for her newspaper in Copenhagen. It is my hope and obligation to finally put this case to rest. I will do mybest and look forward to communicating with you as I go.
    It seemed to Bosch that Henrik’s reference to vaction and th story was not necessarily a reference to the riots. Henrik could have been saying that his sister had come to the United States to pursue a story and had diverted from that to the riots in Los Angeles.
    It was all semantics and conjecture until Bosch actually talked to Henrik directly. He looked up at the wall clock and did some calculating. It was shortly after 4 P.M. in Copenhagen. He had a good chance of catching Henrik at the hotel.
    His call was answered right away by a front-desk clerk who told him that he had missed Henrik, who had just gone home for the day. Bosch left his name and number but no message. After hanging up he sent an email to Henrik asking him to call as soon as possible, day or night.
    Bosch pulled the case records out of his battered briefcase and started a fresh read-through, this time with everything filtered through a new hypothesis—that Anneke Jespersen was already working a story when she came to the United States.
    Soon things started to fall into place. Jespersen had packed light because she wasn’t on vacation. She was working and she brought work clothes. One backpack and that was it. So she could travel quickly and easily. So she could keep moving, chasing the story—whatever the story was.
    Tilting the angle brought to light other things he had missed. Jespersen was a photographer and journalist. She shot stories. She wrote stories. But no notebook was found with the body or among the belongings from her motel room. If shewas on a story, shouldn’t there be notes? Shouldn’t there be a notebook in one of the pockets of her vest or in her backpack?
    “What else?” Bosch said out loud,