“I am with Ferras,” Bosch responded. “This is Special Agent Walling from the FBI’s Tactical Intelligence Unit.”

“Tactical Intelligence? What will they think of next?”

“I think it’s one of those Homeland Security-type operations. You know, don’t ask, don’t tell, that sort of thing. She says she might be able to confirm an ID for us.”

Walling gave Bosch a look that told him he was being juvenile.

“All right if we come in, Doc?” Bosch asked.

“Sure, Harry, we’re pretty much squared away here.”

Bosch started to step forward but Walling moved quickly in front of him and walked into the harsh light. Without hesitation she took a position over the body. She opened the file and took out a color 8 × 10 face shot. She bent down and held it next to the dead man’s face. Bosch stepped in close at her side to make a comparison himself.

“It’s him,” she said. “ Stanley Kent.”

Bosch nodded his agreement and then offered his hand to her so that she could step back over the body. She ignored it and did it without help. Bosch looked down at Felton, who was squatting next to the body.

“So, Doc, you want to tell us what we’ve got here?”

Bosch stooped down on the other side of the body to get a better look.

“We’ve got a man who was brought here or came here for whatever reason and was made to get down on his knees.”

Felton pointed to the victim’s pants. There were smudges of orange dirt on both knees.

“Then somebody shot him twice in the back of the head and he went down face first. The facial injuries you see came when he hit the ground. He was already dead by then.”

Bosch nodded.

“No exit wounds,” Felton added. “Probably something small like a twenty-two with the ricochet effect inside the skull. Very efficient.”

Bosch realized now that Lieutenant Gandle had been speaking figuratively when he mentioned that the victim’s brains had been blown across the view from the overlook. He would have to remember Gandle’s tendency toward hyperbole in the future.