“That’s going to be a lot.”

She worked the keyboard and went into the department’s database. In less than a minute she had it.

“Eighty-nine suicides of females between twenty and thirty.”

Bosch nodded, trying to think of ways to narrow the search.

“Do you have it by method?” he asked.

“Yes. What are you looking for?”

“Pills.”

“That would be overdose.”

She typed it in and had the answer in seconds. “Fifty-six.”

“What about by profession? I think I’m looking at actresses only.”

“That would be a catchall: entertainer.”

She typed and had the answer before Bosch took his next breath.

“Twenty-six.”

“White females?”

She typed.

“Twenty-three.”

Bosch nodded. He could think of nothing else to narrow it down to cases similar to Lizbeth Grayson’s phony suicide.

“Can you print out the names and case numbers for me?”

“No problem.”

Thirty seconds later Bosch had the list and was ready to go down to archives to pull the files.

“You need any help with that, Harry?” Rider asked.

“You mean like you might want to do some detective work?”

She smiled.

“I wouldn’t mind,” she said. “It gets kind of boring up here looking at the computer all day.”

Bosch checked his watch. It was almost lunchtime.

“Tell you what. I’ll go pull the twenty-three files and then meet you in the cafeteria for lunch. We can look through them then. I could probably use the help because my partner thinks this is the wildest goose chase I’ve ever been on. He’s working on our backlog while I do this. And he’s losing his patience.”

She kept her smile.

“I’ll get a table and see you down there.”

Bosch opened his briefcase and pulled out the Grayson file.

“Start with this.”

In the cafeteria, Bosch put the stack of files down on a table Rider had commandeered. She had half of a tuna fish sandwich on a plate and was looking through the last few documents in the Grayson file.