The Reversal

her.
    “Rachel, I really appreciate this,” Bosch said. “I hope it didn’t disrupt your life too much.”
    “The work, no. I enjoyed it. But you, Harry, you coming back into my life was a disruption.”
    Bosch wasn’t expecting that.
    “What do you mean?”
    “I’m in a relationship and I’d told him about you. About the single-bullet theory, all of that. So he wasn’t happy that I’ve been spending my nights off working this up for you.”
    Bosch wasn’t sure about how to respond. Rachel Walling always hid deeper messages in the things she said. He wasn’t sure if there was more to be considered than what she had just said out loud.
    “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “Did you tell him it was only work, that I just wanted your professional opinion? That I went to you because I can trust you and you’re the best at this?”
    “He knows I’m the best at it, but it doesn’t matter. Let’s just do this.”
    She opened a file.
    “My ex-wife is dead,” he said. “She was killed last year in Hong Kong.”
    He wasn’t sure why he’d blurted it out like that. She looked up at him sharply and he knew she hadn’t known.
    “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”
    Bosch just nodded, deciding not to tell her the details.
    “What about your daughter?”
    “She lives with me now. She’s doing okay but it’s been pretty tough on her. It’s only been four months.”
    She nodded and then seemed to lose her grounding as she took in what had just been said.
    “What about you? I assume it’s been rough for you, too.”
    He nodded but couldn’t think of the right words. He had his daughter fully in his life now, but at a terrible cost. He realized that he had brought the subject up but couldn’t talk about it.
    “Look,” he said, “that was weird. I don’t know why I just laid that on you. You mentioned the single bullet and I remember I told you about her. We can talk about it some other time. I mean, if you want. Let’s just get to the case now. Is that okay?”
    “Yes, sure. I was just thinking about your daughter. To lose her mother and then have to move so far from the place she knows. I mean, I know living with you will be fine, but it’s… quite an adjustment.”
    “Yeah, but they say kids are resilient because they actually are. She’s got a lot of friends already and is doing well in school. It’s been a major adjustment for both of us but I think she’ll come out okay.”
    “And how will you come out?”
    Bosch held her eyes for a moment before answering.
    “I’ve already come out ahead. I have my daughter with me and she’s the best thing in my life.”
    “That’s good, Harry.”
    “It is.”
    She broke eye contact and finished removing the files and photos from the box. Bosch could see the transformation. She was now all business, an FBI profiler ready to report her findings. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his notebook. It was in a folding leather case with a detective shield embossed on the cover. He opened it and got ready to write.
    “I want to start with the photos,” she said.
    “Fine.”
    She spread out four photos of Melissa Landy’s body in the Dumpster, turning them to face him. She then added two photos from the autopsy in a row above these. Photos of a dead child were never easy to look at for Bosch. But these were particularly difficult. He stared for a long moment before coming to the realization that the clutch in his gut was due to the setting of the body in a Dumpster. For the girl to be disposed of like that seemed almost like a statement about the victim and an added insult to those who loved her.
    “The Dumpster,” he said. “You think that was chosen as a statement?”
    Walling paused as if considering it for the first time.
    “I’m actually going at it from a different standpoint. I think that it was an almost spontaneous choice. That it wasn’t part of a plan. He needed a place to dump the body where he wouldn’t be seen and it wouldn’t be immediately found. He knew about that Dumpster behind that theater and he used it. It was a convenience, not a statement.”
    Bosch nodded. He leaned forward and wrote a note on his pad to remind himself to go back to Clinton and ask about the Dumpster. The El Rey was in the Wilshire corridor the Aardvark drivers worked. It might have been familiar to them.
    “Sorry, I didn’t mean to start things off in the wrong direction,” he said as he wrote.
    “That’s okay. The reason I wanted to start