Chapters (45)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Title Page
- Part One: The Gun Walk: 2012
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Part Two: Words and Pictures
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Part Three: The Prodigal Detective
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Also by Michael Connelly
- Copyright
“I have that here. I’ll read you the description of their outing during Desert Storm. ‘The soldiers of the two thirty-seventh were mobilized on September twenty, nineteen ninety, with sixty-two personnel. The unit arrived in Saudi Arabia the following November three. During Desert Shield and Desert Storm operations, the unit transported twenty-one thousand tons of cargo, moved fifteen thousand personnel and prisoners of war, and drove eight hundred thirty-seven thousand accident-free miles. The unit returned to Modesto without a single casualty on April twenty-three, nineteen ninety-one.’ See what I mean? These guys were truck drivers and bus drivers.”
Bosch contemplated the information and statistics for a few moments.
“We’ve got to get those sixty-two names,” he said.
“I’m working on it. You were right. Each unit has an amateur website and an archive. You know, newspaper stories and whatnot. But I haven’t found any lists of names from ’ninety-one or ’ninety-two. Just mentions of different people here and there. Like one guy from back then is the sheriff of Stanislaus County now. And he’s also running for Congress.”
Bosch rolled his chair over so he could look at what Chu had on his screen. There was a photo of a man in a sheriff’s green uniform, holding up a sign that said “Drummond for Congress!”
“That’s the two thirty-seventh’s website?”
“Yeah. It says this guy served from ’ninety to ’ninety-eight. So he would’ve—”
“Wait a minute . . . Drummond, I know that name.”
Bosch tried to place it, casting his thoughts back to the night in the alley. So many soldiers standing and watching. He snapped his fingers as a fleeting glimpse of a face and a name came through.
“Drummer. That’s the guy they called Drummer. He was there that night.”
“Well, J.J. Drummond’s sheriff up there now,” Chu said. “Maybe he’ll help us with the names.”
Bosch nodded.
“He might, but let’s hold off on that until we have a better lay of the land.”
Chapter 21
21
Bosch went to his computer and pulled up a map of Modesto so he could get a better geographic understanding of where Manteca, Francis Dowler’s hometown, was in relation to Modesto.
Both were in the heart of the San Joaquin Valley, which was better known as the Central Valley and the food basket of the state. Livestock, fruit, nuts, vegetables—everything that was put down on the kitchen or restaurant table in Los Angeles and most parts of California came from the Central Valley. And that included some of the wine on those tables as well.
Modesto was the anchor city of Stanislaus County, while Manteca was just across the northern border and part of San Joaquin County. The county seat there was Stockton, the largest city in the Valley.