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У могилы осталась только Кристин Уотерс. Босх наблюдал за тем, как она безмолвно помолилась и пошла к двум оставшимся машинам внизу. Босх шагнул ей наперерез. Когда приблизился, она спокойно произнесла: she calmly looked at him.

"Detective Bosch, I am surprised to see you here." "Why is that?"

"Aren't detectives supposed to be aloof, not get emotionally involved? Showing up at a funeral shows emotional attachment, don't you think? Especially rainy-day funerals."

He fell into stride next to her and she gave him half of the umbrella's protection.

"Why did you claim the remains?" he asked. "Why did you do this?"

He gestured back toward the grave on the hill. "Because I didn't think anybody else would."

They got to the road. Bosch's car was parked in front of hers.

"Good-bye, Detective," she said as she broke from him, walked between the cars and went to the driver's door of hers.

"I have something for you."

She opened the car door and looked back at him. "What?"

He opened his door and popped the trunk. He walked back between the cars. She closed her umbrella and threw it into her car and then came over. "Somebody once told me that life was the pursuit of one thing. Redemption. The search for redemption."

- Детектив Босх, мне удивительно видеть вас здесь.

- Почему же?

- Разве детективам не положено быть равнодушными, эмоционально отстраненными? Появление на похоронах свидетельствует об эмоциональной причастности, вам не кажется? Особенно на похоронах в дождливый день.

Кристин Уотерс передвинула зонтик, чтобы закрыть от дождя и Босха.

- Почему вы затребовали останки? - спросил он. -Почему занялись этим?

Он кивнул в сторону могилы на холме.

- Потому что думала, никто больше не займется.

Они подошли к дороге. Машина Босха стояла перед ее машиной.

- Прощайте, детектив, - сказала Кристин Уотерс.

- У меня есть кое-что для вас.

Она открыла дверцу и обернулась:

- Что?

Босх отпер багажник и вернулся.

Кристин Уотерс закрыла зонтик, бросила в машину и подошла к нему.

- Однажды мне сказал один человек, что жизнь - это преследование одной цели. Поиски искупления.

"For what?"

"For everything. Anything. We all want to be forgiven."

He raised the trunk lid and took out a cardboard box. He held it out to her.

"Take care of these kids."

She didn't take the box. Instead she lifted the lid and looked inside. There were stacks of envelopes held together by rubber bands. There were loose photos. On top was the photo of the boy from Kosovo who had the thousand-yard stare.

She reached into the box.

"Where are they from?" she asked, as she lifted an envelope from one of the charities.

"It doesn't matter," he said. "Somebody has to take care of them." She nodded and carefully put the lid back on. She took the box from Bosch and walked it back to her car. She put it on the backseat and then went to the open front door. She looked at Bosch before getting in. She looked like she was about to say something but then she stopped. She got in the car and drove away. Bosch closed the trunk of his car and watched her go.