“Two men,” she responded tearfully. “I never saw them. I mean their faces. I never saw their faces. There was a knock at the door and I answered. There was no one there. Then when I started to close the door they were there. They jumped out. They had on masks and hoods-like a sweatshirt with a hood. They pushed their way in and they grabbed me. They had a knife and one of them grabbed me and held it against my throat. He told me he would cut my throat if I didn’t do exactly what he told me to do.”
She lightly touched the bandage on her neck.
“Do you remember what time this was?” Bosch asked.
“It was almost six o’clock,” she said. “It had been dark for a while and I was about to start dinner. Stanley comes home most nights at seven. Unless he’s working down in the South County or up in the desert.”
The reminder of her husband’s habits brought a new rush of tears into Alicia Kent’s eyes and voice. Bosch tried to keep her on point by moving to the next question. He thought he already detected a slowing down of her speech. The pill the paramedics gave her was taking effect.
“What did the men do, Mrs. Kent?” he asked.
“They took me to the bedroom. They made me sit down on the bed and take off all my clothes. Then they-one of them-started to ask me questions. I was scared. I guess I got hysterical and he slapped me and he yelled at me. He told me to calm down and answer his questions.”
“What did he ask you?”
“I can’t remember everything. I was so scared.”
“Try, Mrs. Kent. It’s important. It will help us find your husband’s killers.”
“He asked me if we had a gun and he asked me where the-”
“Wait a minute, Mrs. Kent,” Bosch said. “Let’s go one at a time. He asked you if you had a gun. What did you tell him?”
“I was scared. I said, yes, we had a gun. He asked where it was and I told him it was in the drawer by the bed on my husband’s side. It was the gun we got after you warned us about the dangers Stan faced with his job.”
She said this last part while looking directly at Walling.
“Weren’t you afraid that they would kill you with it?” Bosch asked. “Why did you tell them where the gun was?”
Alicia Kent looked down at her hands.
“I was sitting there naked. I was already sure they were going to rape me and kill me. I guess I thought it didn’t matter anymore.”
Bosch nodded as if he understood.
“What else did they ask you, Mrs. Kent?”
“They wanted to know where the keys to the car were. I told them. I told them everything they wanted to know.”
“Is that your car they were talking about?”
“Yes, my car. In the garage. I keep the keys on the kitchen counter.”
“I checked the garage. It’s empty.”
“I heard the garage door-after they were here. They must’ve taken the car.”
Brenner abruptly stood up.
“We need to get this out,” he interjected. “Can you tell us what kind of car it is and the license plate number?”
“It’s a Chrysler Three Hundred. I can’t remember the number. I could look it up in our insurance file.”
Brenner held his hands up to stop her from getting up.
“Not necessary. I’ll be able to get it. I’m going to call it in right away.”
He got up to go to the kitchen to make the call without disturbing the interview. Bosch went back to his questions.
“What else did they ask you, Mrs. Kent?”
“They wanted our camera. The camera that worked with my husband’s computer. I told them Stanley had a camera that I thought was in his desk. Whenever I answered a question, one man-the one who asked them-would then translate to the other, and then that man left the room. I guess he went to get the camera.”
Now Walling stood up and headed toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms.
“Rachel, don’t touch anything,” Bosch said. “I have a crime scene team coming.”
Walling waved as she disappeared down the hall. Brenner then came back into the room and nodded to Bosch.
“The BOLO’s out,” he said.
Alicia Kent asked what a BOLO was.
“It means ‘be on the lookout,’” Bosch explained. “They’ll be looking for your car. What happened next with the two men, Mrs. Kent?”
She grew tearful again as she answered.
“They… they tied me in that awful way and gagged me with one of my husband’s neckties. Then after the one came back in with the camera, the other took a picture of me like that.”
Bosch noted the look of burning humiliation on her face.
“He took a photograph?”
“Yes, that’s all. Then they both left the room. The one who spoke English bent down and whispered that my husband would come to rescue me. Then he left.”
That brought a long space of silence before Bosch continued.
“After they left the bedroom, did they leave the house right away?” he asked.
The woman shook her head.
“I heard them talking for a little while, then I heard the garage door. It rumbles in the house like an earthquake. I felt it twice-it opened and closed. After that I thought they were gone.”
Brenner cut into the interview again.
“When I was in the kitchen I think I heard you say that one of the men translated for the other. Do you know what language they were speaking?”
Bosch was annoyed with Brenner for jumping in. He intended to ask about the language the intruders used but was carefully covering one aspect of the interview at a time. He had found in previous cases that it worked best with traumatized victims.
“I am not sure. The one who spoke in English had an accent but I don’t know where it was from. I think Middle Eastern. I think when they spoke to each other it was Arabic or something. It was foreign, very guttural. But I don’t know the different languages.”
Brenner nodded as if her answer was confirming something.
“Do you remember anything else about what the men might have asked you or said in English?” Bosch asked.
“No, that’s all.”
“You said they wore masks. What kind of masks?”
She thought for a moment before answering.
“The pullover kind. Like you see robbers put on in movies or people wear for skiing.”
“A wool ski mask.”
She nodded.
“Yes, exactly.”
“Okay, were they the kind with one hole for both eyes or was there a separate hole for each eye.”
“Um, separate, I think. Yes, separate.”
“Was there an opening for the mouth?”
“Uh… yes, there was. I remember watching the man’s mouth when he spoke in the other language. I was trying to understand him.”
“That’s good, Mrs. Kent. You’re being very helpful. What haven’t I asked you?”
“I don’t understand.”
“What detail do you remember that I haven’t asked you for?”
She thought about it and then shook her head.
