“The lights in the bedroom were left on.”

“So?”

“People don’t leave the lights on. They want it to be like they’re going to sleep at night. They want to go easy.”

Edgar nodded his head.

“All right, I’ll give you that. But it’s not enough. It’s an anomaly. You know what that is? Something that deviates from the norm. What we have here is a deviation within the norm. It’s not something we-”

There was a sudden flash. Bosch turned to see Baron coming from the hallway into the living room. He had fired off a shot at Bosch and Edgar.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “Misfire. You guys want me to shoot anything else? I’m done with Marilyn Monroe in there.”

“No,” Edgar said. “You’re clear, Mark.”

Baron, a short man with a widening middle, threw a mock salute and walked out the open front door of the apartment. Bosch looked at Edgar sharply. He didn’t like the junior member of the team making the call to break up the crime scene. Edgar read him correctly.

“Look, Harry, it is what it is. We’re done here. Let’s sign off and wait on the toxicology.”

“We’re not done. We’re just beginning. Go out there and bring Baron back. I want him to shoot everything in this place.”

Edgar blew out his breath impatiently.

“Look, partner, you may have convinced yourself of something but you haven’t convinced me or anybody else here that-”

“There’s no pencil.”

“What?”

“On the bed table. There’s no pencil to go with the note. If she wrote the note and took the pills, then where’s the pencil?”

“I don’t know, Harry. Maybe it’s in a drawer in the kitchen. What’s it matter?”

“You’re saying she writes a suicide note and gets up naked to put the pencil away in a kitchen drawer? Listen to yourself, Jerry. This scene doesn’t work and you know it. So what do you want to do about it?”

Edgar stared at Bosch for a moment and then nodded as if conceding something.