Angels Flight Read Online Free PDF Page A

process. Bosch glanced out the window. There was still a large number of detectives milling about.
    “I’d say those first guys made more than just a call to you, Captain,” Bosch said.
    Garwood turned to look out the window as if it had never occurred to him that it was unusual to see as many as fifteen detectives at a murder scene.
    “I suppose,” he said.
    “Okay, what else?” Bosch said. “What else did they do before they figured out who it was and that they weren’t long for the case?”
    “Well, like I said, they talked to this fellow Eldrige Peete and they searched the areas outside the cars. Top and bottom. They — ”
    “Did they find any of the brass?”
    “No. Our shooter was careful. He picked up all the casings. We do know that he was using a nine, though.”
    “How?”
    “The second victim, the woman. The shot was through and through. The slug hit a steel window bracket behind her, flattened and fell on the floor. It’s too mashed for comparison but you can still tell it was a nine. Hoffman said if he was guessing he’d say it was a Federal. You’ll have to hope for better lead from the autopsies as far as ballistics go. If you ever get that far.”
    Perfect, Bosch thought. Nine was a cop’s caliber. And stopping to pick up the shells, that was a smooth move. You didn’t usually see that.
    “The way they see it,” Garwood continued, “Elias got it just after he stepped onto the train down there. The guy comes up and shoots him in the ass first.”
    “The ass?” Edgar said.
    “That’s right. The first shot is in the ass. See, Elias is just stepping on so he’s a couple steps up from the sidewalk level. The shooter comes up from behind and holds the gun out — it’s at ass level. He sticks the muzzle in there and fires off the first cap.”
    “Then what?” Bosch asked.
    “Well, we think Elias goes down and sort of turns to see who it is. He raises his hands but the shooter fires again. The slug goes through one of his hands and hits him in the face, right between the eyes. That’s probably your cause-of-death shot right there. Elias drops back down. He’s facedown now. The shooter steps into the car and puts one more in the back of his head, point-blank. He then looks up and sees the woman, maybe for the first time. He hits her from about twelve feet. One in the chest, through and through, and she’s gone. No witness. The shooter gets the wallet and watch off Elias, picks up his shells and is gone. A few minutes later Peete brings the car up and finds the bodies. You now know what I know.”
    Bosch and his partners were quiet a long moment. The scenario Garwood had woven didn’t sit right with Bosch but he didn’t know enough about the crime scene yet to challenge him on it.
    “The robbery look legit?” Bosch finally asked.
    “It did to me. I know the people down south aren’t going to want to hear that but there it is.”
    Rider and Edgar were silent stones.
    “What about the woman?” Bosch asked. “Was she robbed?”
    “Doesn’t look like it. I kind of think the shooter didn’t want to come onto the train. Anyway, the lawyer was the one in the thousand-dollar suit. He’d be the target.”
    “What about Peete? Did he hear the shots, a scream, anything?”
    “He says no. He says the generator for the electric is right below the floor here. Sounds like an elevator running all day long so he wears earplugs. He never heard anything.”
    Bosch stepped around the cable wheels and looked at the train operator’s station. For the first time he saw that mounted above the cash register was a small video display box with a split screen showing four camera views of Angels Flight — from a camera in each of the train cars and from above each terminus. On one corner of the screen he could see a long shot of the inside of Olivet. The crime scene techs were still working with the bodies.
    Garwood came around the other side of the cable wheels.
    “No luck there,” he said.