“Okay, then,” Garwood finally said. “This is what we know. Last run of the night. Man named Elwood . . . Elwood . . . hold on a sec.”

He pulled a small pad from the same pocket he had replaced the cigarette package in and looked at some writing on the top page.

“Eldrige, yeah, Eldrige. Eldrige Peete. He was running the thing by himself — it only takes one person to run the whole operation — it’s all computer. He was about to close her down for the night. On Friday nights the last ride is at eleven. It was eleven. Before sending the top car down for the last ride he goes out, gets on it, closes and locks the door. Then he comes back in here, puts the command on the computer and sends it down.”

He referred to the pad again.

“These things have names. The one he sent down is called Sinai and the one he brought up was Olivet. He says they’re named after mountains in the Bible. It looked to him when Olivet got up here that the car was empty. So he goes out to lock it up — ’cause then he has to send them one more time and the computer stops them side by side in the middle of the track for overnight. Then he’s done and out of here.”

Bosch looked at Rider and made a signal as if writing on his palm. She nodded and took her own pad and a pen out of the bulky purse she carried. She started taking notes.

“Only Elwood, I mean, Eldrige, he comes out to lock up the car and he finds the two bodies onboard. He backs away, comes in here and calls the police. With me?”

“So far. What next?”

Bosch was already thinking of the questions he would have to ask Garwood and then probably Peete.

“So we’re covering for Central dicks and the call eventually comes to me. I send out four guys and they set up the scene.”

“They didn’t check the bodies for ID?”

“Not right away. But there was no ID anyway. They were going by the book. They talked to this Eldrige Peete and they went down the steps and did a search for casings and other than that held tight until the coroner’s people arrived and did their thing. Guy’s wallet and watch are missing. His briefcase, too, if he was carrying one. But they got an ID off a letter the stiff had in his pocket. Addressed to Howard Elias. Once they found that, my guys took a real good look at the stiff and could tell it was Elias. They then, of course, called me and I called Irving and he called the chief and then it was decided to call you.”