Nine Dragons by Michael Connelly Page A

apply.”
    “Okay, that helps. Anything else?”
    Malone pulled the glass back over in front of him and turned the bullet casing underneath it.
    “You have clear extractor and ejector marks here. You bring me the gun and I think I’ll be able to match it.”
    “As soon as I find it. What about the slugs?”
    Malone put the casing back in its plastic bag and one by one took out the slugs and studied them under the glass. He looked at each one quickly before putting it down. He then went back to the second one and took another look. Then he shook his head.
    “These aren’t much use. They’re not in good shape. The casing is going to be your best bet for comparison. Like I said, you bring me the weapon, I’ll match it up.”
    Bosch realized that John Li’s last act was growing in importance. He wondered if the old man could have known just how important it was turning out to be.
    Bosch’s quiet contemplation prompted Malone to speak up.
    “Did you touch this casing, Harry?”
    “No, but Dr. Laksmi at the ME’s sprayed blood off it with water. It was found inside the victim.”
    “Inside? That’s impossible. There’s no way a casing could—”
    “I don’t mean he was shot with it. He tried to swallow it. It was in his throat.”
    “Oh. That’s different.”
    “Yeah.”
    “And Laksmi would have been gloved up when she found it.”
    “Right. What’s up, Ross?”
    “Well, I was thinking. We got a flyer about a month ago from latents. It said they were getting ready to start using some new state-of-the-art, electro-something-or-other method of raising prints on brass casings, and they were looking for test cases. You know, to get it into court.”
    Bosch stared at Malone. In all his years of detective work he had never heard of fingerprints being raised on a casing that had been fired in the chamber of a gun. Fingerprints were made of oils from the skin. They burned up in the millisecond of explosion in the chamber.
    “Ross, you sure you’re talking about spent casings?”
    “Yeah, that’s what it said. Teri Sopp is the tech over there handling it. Why don’t you go see her?”
    “Give me back the casing and I will.”
    Fifteen minutes later Bosch was with Teri Sopp in the SID’s latent fingerprints lab. Sopp was a senior examiner and had been around nearly as long as Harry. They had an easy comfort with each other but Bosch still felt he had to finesse the meeting and lead Sopp to the water.
    “Harry, what’s the story?”
    It was how she always greeted Bosch.
    “The story is I caught a case yesterday down south and today we recovered a single bullet casing from the shooter’s gun.”
    Bosch raised his hand, holding out the evidence bag with the casing in it. Sopp took it, held it up and squinted as she studied it through the plastic.
    “Fired?”
    “Yup. I know it’s a long shot but I was hoping maybe there’d be a print on it. I don’t have much else going on the case at the moment.”
    “Well, let’s see. Normally, you’d have to wait your turn but seeing how we go back about five police chiefs…”
    “That’s why I came to you, Teri.”
    Sopp sat down at an examination table and, like Malone, used a pair of tweezers to pull the casing from the evidence bag. She first fumed it with cyanoacrylate and then held it under an ultraviolet light. Bosch was watching over her shoulder and had the answer before Sopp voiced it.
    “You have a smear here. Looks like somebody handled it after it was fired. But that’s all.”
    “Shit.”
    Bosch guessed that the smear had most likely been left on the casing when John Li grabbed it and put it in his mouth.
    “Sorry, Harry.”
    Bosch’s shoulders sagged. He knew it was a long shot, or maybe a no shot, but he was hoping to convey to Sopp how much he had counted on getting a print.
    Sopp started to put the casing back into the evidence envelope.
    “Tool Marks look at this yet?”
    “Yeah, I just came from there.”
    She nodded. Bosch could tell