“I see. Do you happen to remember where she stayed in the United States? She was here for several days before the riots. Where was she besides New York and San Francisco?”

“I would have to see if I know.”

“Excuse me?”

“I will have to go to my storage room for records. I kept many things from that time . . . because of what happened. I will look. I can remember that she did not go to New York.”

“She only landed there?”

“Yes, and flew on connection to Atlanta.”

“What was in Atlanta?”

“This I don’t know.”

“Okay. When do you think you will be able to go to your storage room, Henrik?”

Bosch wanted to push him but not that hard.

“I am not sure. It is far from here. I will have to take time from work.”

“I understand, Henrik. But it could be very helpful. Will you email me or call me back as soon as you look?”

“Yes, of course.”

Bosch stared at his pad as he tried to think of other questions to ask.

“Henrik, where was your sister before she came to the United States?”

“She was here in Copenhagen.”

“I mean, what was the last trip she was on before going to the United States?”

“She was in Germany for a time, and before that, Kuwait City for the war.”

Bosch knew he meant Desert Storm. He knew Anneke had been there from the news stories about her. He wrote down Germany. That was something new to him.

“Where in Germany, do you know?”

“She was in Stuttgart. I remember that.”

Bosch noted this on his pad. He thought he had all he was going to get from Henrik until he could go to his storage room and look for travel records.

“Did she tell you why she went to Germany? Was there a story?”

“She did not tell me. She asked me to get a hotel that would be close to the U.S. military base. I remember that.”

“She didn’t tell you anything else?”

“That was all. I don’t understand why it matters when she was killed in Los Angeles.”

“It probably doesn’t, Henrik. But sometimes it’s good to cast a big net.”

“What does this mean?”

“It means, if you ask a lot of questions, you get a lot of information. Not all of it is useful, but sometimes you get lucky. I appreciate your patience and your talking with me.”

“Will you solve the case now, Detective?”

Bosch paused before answering.

“I’m giving it my best shot, Henrik. And I promise you’ll be the first to know.”

The call with Henrik energized Bosch, even though he had not gotten all there was to get. He could not put his finger on what was happening with the case, but things had shifted. Little more than a day earlier he believed the investigation was going nowhere and that he would soon be repacking the archive boxes and sending Anneke Jespersen back to the depths of the warehouse of unsolved cases and forgotten victims. But now there was a spark. There were mysteries and irons in the fire. There were questions to be answered and Bosch was still in the game.