“More like a night watchman. The park is popular with campers and film crews. His job was to make sure nobody burns the place down or vandalizes any movie sets during the night.” Knobb clicked a few keys and brought up on his screen some gruesome pictures of the victim and his gaping neck wound. “We quickly ruled out suicide. Somebody in the passenger seat pulled Roger’s head back and slit his throat, practically to the spine. We’re thinking it was a hitchhiker, maybe a prostitute.”

“I’ve never heard of hookers hanging out on Mulholland.”

“That’s not how it’s done in upscale neighborhoods. They use apps or social media to book anonymous sex,” Knobb said. “We know from Roger’s friends and family that he was dealing with a sex addiction problem. Getting blow jobs and hand jobs in parking lots was one of his favorite pastimes.”

“Was his wallet or phone taken?”

Knobb shook his head. “We’re thinking the killer must have been spooked by someone or something. We don’t have much to go on.”

“Can you show me the interior of the truck?” Eve asked. Knobb scrolled through pictures of the bloody cab and the large knife on the passenger seat. She tapped the screen. “Has the knife been confirmed as the murder weapon?”

“Yes, it has.”

“It was nice of the killer to leave it behind.”

“We’re thinking that maybe it belonged to Roger and he had it in the truck, maybe under the passenger seat or something, and the killer grabbed it as a weapon of opportunity,” Knobb said. “It’s an SOG Jungle Primitive knife, a popular choice among ISIS members for beheading captives.”

“Did you get any prints from it?”

“Nope,” he said.

“I’d like that knife sent to our crime scene unit for analysis,” she said. The knife wouldn’t have to go far, perhaps just across a room. The LAPD and LASD shared crime lab facilities within the California Forensic Institute on the campus of California State University in Monterey Park.

“You think you’re going to find the DNA of your three victims in the hilt of the knife?” Knobb asked.

Yes, she did, and DNA from Donna Stokes, too.

“I think it’s worth checking,” Eve said. “If I’m right, you can say the LAPD provided the key clue that closed a triple murder that baffled the sheriff’s department.”

Eve was still missing key evidence, but she now believed that the Realtor showed up at Tanya’s house on Wednesday morning . . . and walked in on a nightmare. Coyle killed Stokes and used her car to dispose of the bodies. That was why his car was clean.

Knobb regarded her with an appraising gaze. “You weren’t baffled. You knew what you were going to find before you walked in here. All I did was confirm it and give you a few more facts.”