This was by design because almost all automatics were manufactured for right-handed shooters and a right-rear ejection arc would take the casing away from the shooter.
But a shell could easily be redirected forward after rebounding off another object. And if a left-hander was firing the weapon, that object could be the shooter himself. Bosch was left-handed and had personal experience with this—one time a red-hot shell had hit him in the eye after being ejected during range practice. He knew that, depending on the shooter’s stance and how the weapon was held, there was a possibility in this case that the ejected shell hit the shooter and then caromed forward—perhaps to land on the front hood of the car the killer had just fired into.
Bosch nodded to himself. He had a hunch that he was looking for a left-handed gun.
“What is it?” Gunn asked.
“Nothing yet. Just a theory.”
An assistant coroner named Puneet Pram was working the scene along with a forensics team from the LAPD’s Scientific Investigation Division. While some coroners kept up a running commentary of what they were doing and seeing at a crime scene, Pram was a very quiet worker. Bosch had been at murder scenes with him before and knew that he would not be getting a lot from him until the autopsy. Donald Dussein, the head of the forensics team, was another matter. He was a known character in the department. Known by a variety of nicknames ranging from Donald Duck to D-Squared, he was usually overly forthcoming—to the point of bending facts into theory and confusing his role at a crime scene. Bosch had worked with him as well and knew he would have to rein him in and keep him on point.
And it wasn’t long into Dussein’s initial briefing that Bosch had to do just that.
“Couple things first,” Dussein said. “The contact wound to the head. Neat and very clean. Too clean if you ask me.”
“All right, then, I’m asking you,” Bosch said. “What do you mean by ‘too clean’?”
“Well, Harry, I’ve seen a lot of these in my time. And this has the look of a hitter’s work. I’m talking about a contract killer. You have the illicit world of gambling and money in which this victim traversed and then a hit like this and it all adds—”
“Hold on a second there, Double D. How about you stick to forensics and we’ll do the detective work, okay? I need facts from you, not theories. Now, what about the contact wound is too clean for you? What are you trying to say?”
Chastened, Dussein nodded.
“The burn pattern is too small,” he said. “You see, normally, you put the muzzle up to the side of somebody’s head and pull the trigger, you get a three-to-five-inch burn in the hair and on the skin. The hot gases coming out of the barrel spread and burn. You follow?”
“We follow,” Bosch said.
“Okay, well, we’ve got no burn here. We’ve got a contact wound but we’ve got no burn. No gases and you know what that means.”
Bosch nodded. He did know. It meant that the weapon used to kill Tracey Blitzstein was likely equipped with a sound suppressor—a silencer that would have rechanneled the sound of the shot. In doing so it would have rechanneled the explosion of hot gases as well. It would have sent them backward through the baffles of the snap-on device toward the shooter, leaving the victim’s hair unburned except in the immediate area of the wound.
“It would explain why none of the witnesses heard the shot,” Bosch said.
Dussein nodded.
“What are you saying, the shooter used a silencer?” Gunn asked.
“That’s what I’m saying,” Dussein said.
He gestured toward the body.
“There is no burn. This is a contact wound with no burn. I’m telling you, the shooter used a suppressor.”
Bosch nodded. He decided it might be best to move on to the rest of the review.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s talk about ballistics.”
Dussein nodded, ready to move on.
“We got lucky there,” he said. “The slug
But a shell could easily be redirected forward after rebounding off another object. And if a left-hander was firing the weapon, that object could be the shooter himself. Bosch was left-handed and had personal experience with this—one time a red-hot shell had hit him in the eye after being ejected during range practice. He knew that, depending on the shooter’s stance and how the weapon was held, there was a possibility in this case that the ejected shell hit the shooter and then caromed forward—perhaps to land on the front hood of the car the killer had just fired into.
Bosch nodded to himself. He had a hunch that he was looking for a left-handed gun.
“What is it?” Gunn asked.
“Nothing yet. Just a theory.”
An assistant coroner named Puneet Pram was working the scene along with a forensics team from the LAPD’s Scientific Investigation Division. While some coroners kept up a running commentary of what they were doing and seeing at a crime scene, Pram was a very quiet worker. Bosch had been at murder scenes with him before and knew that he would not be getting a lot from him until the autopsy. Donald Dussein, the head of the forensics team, was another matter. He was a known character in the department. Known by a variety of nicknames ranging from Donald Duck to D-Squared, he was usually overly forthcoming—to the point of bending facts into theory and confusing his role at a crime scene. Bosch had worked with him as well and knew he would have to rein him in and keep him on point.
And it wasn’t long into Dussein’s initial briefing that Bosch had to do just that.
“Couple things first,” Dussein said. “The contact wound to the head. Neat and very clean. Too clean if you ask me.”
“All right, then, I’m asking you,” Bosch said. “What do you mean by ‘too clean’?”
“Well, Harry, I’ve seen a lot of these in my time. And this has the look of a hitter’s work. I’m talking about a contract killer. You have the illicit world of gambling and money in which this victim traversed and then a hit like this and it all adds—”
“Hold on a second there, Double D. How about you stick to forensics and we’ll do the detective work, okay? I need facts from you, not theories. Now, what about the contact wound is too clean for you? What are you trying to say?”
Chastened, Dussein nodded.
“The burn pattern is too small,” he said. “You see, normally, you put the muzzle up to the side of somebody’s head and pull the trigger, you get a three-to-five-inch burn in the hair and on the skin. The hot gases coming out of the barrel spread and burn. You follow?”
“We follow,” Bosch said.
“Okay, well, we’ve got no burn here. We’ve got a contact wound but we’ve got no burn. No gases and you know what that means.”
Bosch nodded. He did know. It meant that the weapon used to kill Tracey Blitzstein was likely equipped with a sound suppressor—a silencer that would have rechanneled the sound of the shot. In doing so it would have rechanneled the explosion of hot gases as well. It would have sent them backward through the baffles of the snap-on device toward the shooter, leaving the victim’s hair unburned except in the immediate area of the wound.
“It would explain why none of the witnesses heard the shot,” Bosch said.
Dussein nodded.
“What are you saying, the shooter used a silencer?” Gunn asked.
“That’s what I’m saying,” Dussein said.
He gestured toward the body.
“There is no burn. This is a contact wound with no burn. I’m telling you, the shooter used a suppressor.”
Bosch nodded. He decided it might be best to move on to the rest of the review.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s talk about ballistics.”
Dussein nodded, ready to move on.
“We got lucky there,” he said. “The slug
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