“No lawnmower did that. That was done with a file. And you’re saying you’re sure that’s the way it was when you found it?”

“Man, I can’t be sure about nothin’ twenty years ago. What do you want from me? I don’t remember.”

Bosch was getting annoyed with his dancing.

“Did you do that, Charles? To make it more valuable to a guy like Tru Story?”

“No, man, I didn’t do it.”

“Then, tell me, how many guns have you found in your life, Charles?”

“Just this one.”

“Okay, and as soon as you found it, you knew it had a value, right? You knew you could give it to the street boss and you could get something back for it. They might welcome you into the club, right? So don’t be dancing around this, telling me you don’t remember. If the serial number was gone when you found it, then you would have told Trumont Story that it was gone, because you knew it would be a plus to him. So, which is it, Charles?”

“Yeah, man, it was gone. Okay? It was gone. There was no serial number when I found it, and that’s what I told Tru, so get outta my face.”

Bosch realized he had leaned across the table and had invaded what Washburn considered his personal space. He leaned back.

“Okay, Charles, thank you.”

It was a significant admission because it confirmed something about how Anneke Jespersen’s killer carried out the crime. Bosch had been grinding on the question of why the killer had thrown the gun over the fence. Had something happened in the alley that necessitated his getting rid of the gun? Had the gunshot drawn others? The fact that he was using a gun that he thought was untraceable made things fit a little better. With the serial number obliterated, the killer would have thought that the only way to be connected to the murder would be to be caught with the murder weapon in his possession. The best way to avoid that was to dump the gun quickly. This explained why the gun was thrown over the fence.

Making sense of the sequence of events in the crime was always important to Bosch.

“Now you going to drop my charges and shit?” Washburn asked.

Bosch came out of his thoughts and looked at him.

“No, not yet. We still want to find that bullet.”

“Why you need that? You got the gun now.”

“Because it will help tell the story. Juries like the little details. Let’s go.”

Bosch stood up and started packing the three guns back in the cardboard box. Holding the cuffs out, Gant signaled Washburn to stand up. Washburn stayed put in his chair and continued protesting.

“I told you where it is, man. You don’t need me.”

Bosch suddenly realized something and waved Gant back.