After getting the alert from the front desk, Ballard went out to the entrance of the homicide archive to receive Councilman Jake Pearlman and his entourage. They came down the main hallway four wide—two men, two women—plus a pool videographer and two reporters. Ballard had not yet met Pearlman in person, as most of her interactions had been phone calls or Zooms or with Nelson Hastings.
“Detective Ballard?” Pearlman said as he approached.
He reached out his hand and they shook. Pearlman was clean-shaven with curly dark hair. His grip was firm. He was taller and trimmer than she had expected. Her impression from the Zoom videos was that he would be short and squat. This was probably because he used a fixed video camera that caught him from a downward angle. Pearlman wore his standard campaign look—blue jeans, black sneakers, and a white button-down shirt, sleeves haphazardly rolled up to the elbows.
“Welcome to the Ahmanson Center and the homicide archive,” Ballard said. “Thank you for coming.”
“Well, I had to see it,” Pearlman said. “And I had to finally meet you in person.”
The councilman introduced his entourage. Ballard already knew Hastings. He was slightly shorter than Pearlman, with close-cropped brown hair. He carried himself with a precise military bearing. The women were Rita Ford, the councilman’s political adviser, and Susan Aguilar, his policy adviser. Both women were mid-thirties and attractive, dressed in conservative, professional suits. Ballard considered that politics and policy might be the same thing or at least overlap in terms of advisement but didn’t ask the question.
“Well, if you’d like to come back, I’ll show you what we’re doing,” she said.
“Of course,” Pearlman said. “And I want to hear the latest on Sarah’s case. You don’t know what it means to me just to know that progress is being made.”
“I’ll be happy to sit down with you after the walk-through.”
“Then please lead the way.”
They entered the archive and Ballard slowly led the group by the rows of shelved murder books and told them the somber statistics and facts that they already knew, since it had been their pressure on the police department that resulted in the Open-Unsolved Unit being reborn.
Eventually, they came to the pod and Ballard introduced each of the investigators on the team and explained what his or her specialty was. She also pointed to Bosch’s empty spot and noted that their most experienced investigator was in the field, not mentioning that he had extended the field to Chicago.
As she made the introductions, she saw Hastings come up behind the chair where Ted Rawls sat and briefly put his hands on his shoulders. That, plus the fact that Rawls had conveniently arrived at the pod just minutes before Pearlman, confirmed what Ballard already knew: Rawls was tight with Hastings and, by extension, Pearlman. Hastings most likely gave Rawls the same heads-up she had gotten. And he probably got the first call.
The councilman asked a few questions of the investigators, primarily for the video camera, and then Hastings said it was time to move things along.
“The councilman’s schedule is very tight,” he said. “And I know he wanted a few minutes alone with Detective Ballard to get an update.”
Ballard wheeled Bosch’s desk chair around to her pod and invited Pearlman to sit down. Hastings stood a few steps behind them, ever on watch, while Ford and Aguilar engaged Hatteras in a discussion of her role as the team’s investigative genetic genealogy specialist.
While Ballard was worried that Hatteras might start talking about her empathic feelings, she shut out the distraction to focus on her briefing with Pearlman.
“Before I tell you where we are with the investigation, I want to start with a couple questions,” Ballard said. “You don’t remember a young woman named Laura Wilson having any involvement in your 2005 campaign, correct?”
“Yes, that’s what I told Nelson,” Pearlman said. “I don’t remember the name and I don’t remember an African American woman among our volunteers back then. Now I have major support in the Black community, but that first election was, well, not very well-thought-out or executed.”
Ballard opened the Laura Wilson murder book, where she had placed one of the actress’s 8 x 10 headshots with her résumé printed on the back side. She handed the photo to Pearlman.
“That’s Laura Wilson,” she said.
Pearlman took the photo and Ballard studied him for a reaction as he looked at it. She saw no recognition in his eyes and then Pearlman slowly shook his head.
“So sad,” he said. “She was beautiful, but no, I don’t recognize her.”
“Who ran your campaign back then?” Ballard asked.
Hastings stepped in close to the pod and leaned down to speak quietly.
“I thought this was going to be an update from you,” he said. “Not a Q and A. The councilman has to get back to City Hall in an hour.”
“I’m sorry,” Ballard said. “That was my last question, and then I can bring you up to speed.”
“Let’s just proceed with the update,” Hastings insisted.
“It’s all right, Nelson,” Pearlman said. “I wouldn’t call it much of a campaign, but what there was of it was run by our friend Sandy Kramer.”
“Kramer no longer works with you?” Ballard asked.
“No, he left politics a long time ago,” Pearlman said. “Last I heard, he was selling tuxedos in Century City.”
“Do you still have a number for him?” Ballard asked.
“I’m sure we could dig one up for you,” Pearlman said. “I’ll have Nelson look in the old Rolodex. Now, how close are you to cracking this case and bringing some justice to my sister and my family?”
Ballard didn’t tell Pearlman everything about their progress but provided enough details for him to know that the case had the most important thing going for it: momentum.
“We have several irons in the fire and it’s my hope that we will be able to identify a suspect soon,” she concluded.
She knew as soon as she said it that she had just made a political promise and that there would most likely be retribution if she didn’t deliver on it.
“This is good to hear,” Pearlman said. “I look forward to that phone call. I’ve been waiting many years for it.”
Hastings came back to the pod and put a hand on Pearlman’s shoulder, a wordless reminder that they were on the clock. The councilman ignored it and asked another question.
“So, the campaign button,” he said. “Is that just a coincidence? Because it’s sort of weird, you know?”
“Well, we can’t dismiss it yet,” Ballard said. “We have actually located the button and we’re going to see what it brings us. That’s where my in-the-field detective is at the moment.”
“Fantastic,” Pearlman said. “Let me know about that. Meantime, do you have everything you need here? What can I do?”
“I appreciate that, Councilman,” Ballard said. “The one thing I’ve found since we started over here is that we need secured storage. We bring in evidence and property from the old cases and have no place to secure it. We’ve been using the second interview room for some storage, and, of course, this is a police facility, so things should be pretty safe, but most squads have a place to keep things locked up and secure.”
Before Pearlman could respond, Hastings leaned in with a verbal prompt this time.
“Jake, we really gotta go,” he said.
Pearlman stood up and Ballard followed.
“You mean like a safe or something?” Pearlman asked.
“Yes, an evidence safe would be good,” Ballard said.
Pearlman turned to Hastings.
“Nelly, remember that,” he said. “We need to get a safe in here.”
“I’ll remember,” Hastings said.
Pearlman turned back to Ballard and put out his hand. The videographer focused on their hands as they shook.
“Thank you for what you’re doing, Detective,” Pearlman said. “It means a lot to me, but more importantly, it means a lot to this city and this community. We can never forget our victims.”
“Yes, sir,” Ballard said dutifully.
She walked the group out and then returned to her workstation, expecting the others to crowd around and ask questions about the high-powered visit. But only Colleen Hatteras poked her head up over the partition.
“So, how did that go?” she asked.
“I guess okay,” Ballard said. “We just need to break open his sister’s case and then we’re made in the shade.”
“We will.”
“Anything on IGG?”
“I’ve got one hit through GEDmatch so far. A distant cousin to our unknown suspect. I’m going to reach out today, but I’m hoping we get something better. Something closer.”
“Good. Let me know.”
Hatteras dropped back out of sight and Ballard went to work. Not believing that Hastings or anyone else in Pearlman’s crew would move quickly to get her a contact number for Sandy Kramer, Ballard started looking on her own. She guessed that Sandy was a nickname or a diminutive for a given name such as Alexander. As she expected, DMV records didn’t help. There were too many Alexander Kramers for her to confidently pick a winner. There were also several entries under Sandy or other alternatives, like Sandor and Sundeep.
Her next move was to google tuxedo shops in Century City and start making phone calls. When she had exhausted all the internet listings and hadn’t come across a salesman named Kramer, she moved on to Beverly Hills, which was adjacent to Century City.
She hit pay dirt on her third call, this one to a place on Beverly Drive called Tux by Lux. She was told that a salesman named Alexander Kramer was on his day off but would be back at ten the next morning. Ballard guessed that selling tuxedos in Beverly Hills required a more formal name than Sandy.
Ballard disconnected. She planned to be in Beverly Hills the next morning when Kramer came to work.