Bosch felt himself getting angry. Someone had picked this flower just as it had been about to bloom.

He stepped over and pulled the tack holding the photo to the board. He studied the shot in his hand. There had been no copies of this photo in the apartment. He was sure of it.

“When did she get this taken, do you know?” he asked.

“Last week, I think,” Palovich replied. “She brought in the stack and gave me the first one off the top for the board.”

“There was a stack?”

“Yes, usually they come in hundred-copy stacks. You can never have too many photos. You have to have your headshots out there or you don’t get the calls.”

Bosch nodded. He had worked in Hollywood long enough to know how it worked. He turned the photo over. There was a listing of Lizbeth Grayson’s acting credits on the back. Also listed were her contact numbers through an agent named Mason Rich.

He turned it back over to look at the photo again.

“Why are the headshots you see always in black and white but everything they make these days is in color?” he asked.

“I think it’s because the black and white better shows the contrast the movie camera will pick up,” Palovich responded.

Bosch nodded, even though he didn’t understand her answer and knew nothing about contrast and photography.

The picture cut off across Grayson’s sternum. She was wearing an open-collar blouse and Bosch could see the chain around her neck. The photo cut off before showing the teardrop pendant he remembered from the night before.

He turned back to check the screen. The picture remained paused and his eyes were immediately drawn to the chain around Lizbeth Grayson’s neck. She was wearing an open shirt over a simple white tank top that said CRUNCH across it. But the pendant, which was clearly visible at the bottom of the chain, was not a diamond. It was a single pearl.