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“You think it’s him?” Masser asked.
“Maybe. That would be too easy,” Ballard said. “And so far nothing about this case has been easy.”
MONDAY, 9:54 A.M.
33
BECAUSE IT WASa holiday and she had moved the weekly team meeting to Tuesday, Ballard didn’t expect to find anyone on the raft when she arrived at Ahmanson Center with Mallory Richardson’s yearbook under her arm on Monday morning. Instead, she found Colleen Hatteras and Maddie Bosch sitting side by side in front of Colleen’s large computer screen.
“You guys know it’s a holiday, right?” Ballard said.
“I thought crime fighting never took a day off,” Hatteras said.
“We found Elyse Ford’s family,” Maddie said.
There was excitement in her voice. Ballard stayed standing at her desk. She slowly put the yearbook down on an envelope that had been sent from the photo lab.
“What do you mean, you found the family?” she asked.
“Colleen started with the name of Elyse’s mother—it was in the newspaper stories back then,” Maddie said. “She found a granddaughter online, the daughter of Elyse’s little sister.”
Colleen said, “She’s Elyse’s niece. I DM’d her and she responded and said her mother—Elyse’s sister—was still living. She’s in her eighties but still sharp, according to her daughter, and she agreed to talk to us, so we set up a Zoom.”
“When are you Zooming?” Ballard asked.
“In five minutes,” Hatteras said.
“Really?” Ballard said. “Last I heard, I was running this unit. Didn’t you think to clear this with me first?”
“Uh, we’re just going to talk to her,” Maddie said. “We’ll show her the photo from Thawyer’s files. The first shot. See if we can confirm ID.”
“Have you ever done this, told a family that their loved one was murdered?” Ballard asked. “Either of you?”
“Uh, no,” Hatteras said.
Maddie timidly shook her head. “My partner has,” she said. “After a TA. I was there but he did the talking.”
“This was no traffic accident,” Ballard said. “It doesn’t matter how much time has gone by. You tell someone her sister was murdered seventy years ago or seven hours ago, you’d better be prepared. You should have talked to me first.”
“I’m sorry,” Maddie said. “Should we cancel it?”
“It’s too late,” Ballard said. “It will be worse to leave her hanging.”
“And it’s time,” Maddie said. “The Zoom’s set for ten. Would you rather handle it?”
Ballard shook her head. “No, you do it,” she said. “It’ll be good for you to get the experience.”
Ballard sat down and moved the yearbook off the manila envelope from the lab. She opened it while listening to Maddie and Hatteras get ready for the Zoom call. The envelope contained a one-page lab report paper-clipped to Thawyer’s photos of the woman they believed was Elizabeth Short. Her eyes went to the summary box at the bottom of the page. It said that digital analysis of the photographs submitted and the photographs of Elizabeth Short in evidence and available online indicated a 92 percent probability that the photos were of the same woman.
Ballard sat up straight and looked over the privacy wall at Hatterasand Maddie. They had made the Zoom connection and were staring at the screen.
“Mrs. Fanning, my name is Madeline Bosch and this is Colleen Hatteras. We’re investigators with the Open-Unsolved Unit of the Los Angeles Police Department. We would like to talk to you about your sister, Elyse.”
“Yes, Martha told me. This is Martha. I wanted her here with me.”
“That’s fine, ma’am,” Maddie said. “Your sister was reported missing in Los Angeles in 1950. Do you remember that time?”
“I was a little girl. Elyse was my big sister, eight years older. But I remember those days well. It was an awful time for my family.”
