The Drop - Michael Connelly [6]
“The LAPD is a paramilitary organization, Chu. That means when someone of higher rank tells you to do something, you do it. The order came down from the chief and we’re following it. That’s what’s going on. We’ll eventually get back to the cold hit. But for now we have a live one and it’s the priority.”
“Sounds like bullshit politics.”
“High jingo.”
“What’s that?”
“The confluence of police and politics. We are investigating the death of Councilman Irvin Irving’s son. You know about Irving, right?”
“Yeah, he was a deputy chief when I came on. Then he quit and ran for the council.”
“Well, he didn’t voluntarily quit. He was forced out and ran for the council so he could seek his revenge on the department. Pure and simple, he lives for one thing—putting the boot to the LAPD. You should also know that back in the day, he had a particular dislike for me. We had a few collisions, you could say.”
“Then why would he want you on his son’s case?”
“We’ll be finding that out pretty soon.”
“What did the lieutenant tell you about this case? Is it suicide?”
“She didn’t tell me anything. She just gave me the address.”
He decided not to reveal anything else he knew about the case. To do so might also reveal that he had a source inside the OCP. He didn’t want to share that with Chu yet and had always kept his monthly lunches with Kiz Rider private.
“This all sounds a little spooky.”
Bosch’s phone buzzed and he checked the screen. The ID was blocked but he took the call. It was the chief of police. Bosch had known him for years and had even worked cases with him. He had come up through the ranks, including a long stint in RHD as both an investigator and supervisor. He had been chief for only a couple years and still had the support of the rank and file.
“Harry, it’s Marty. What’s your location?”
“We’re on the one-oh-one. We left as soon as I got the word.”
“I need to clear before the media gets wind of this, which won’t be long now. No need to turn this from a one-ring to a three-ring circus. As you no doubt have been told, the victim is the son of Councilman Irving. The councilman insisted that I bring you into this.”
“Why?”
“He hasn’t really expressed his reasons to me. I know you two have a history.”
“But not a good one. What can you tell me about the case?”
“Not a lot.”
He gave Bosch the same summary as Rider had with few additional details.
“Who’s there from Hollywood?”
“Glanville and Solomon.”
Bosch was familiar with them from prior cases and task forces. Both investigators were known for their wide bodies and tall egos. They were called Crate and Barrel and enjoyed it. They were flashy dressers with big pinkie rings. And as far as Bosch knew, they were competent detectives. If they were about to wrap the investigation as a suicide, then they most likely had it right.
“They will continue under your direction,” the chief said. “I told them personally.”
“Okay, Chief.”
“Harry, I need your best work on this. I don’t care about your history. Put it aside. We can’t have the councilman go off and say we laid down on this.”
“Understood.”
Bosch was silent for a moment as he thought about what else to ask.
“Chief, where is the councilman?”
“We’ve got him down in the lobby.”
“Did he go into the room?”
“He insisted. I let him look around without touching anything and then we walked him out.”
“You shouldn’t have done that, Marty.”
Bosch knew he was taking a risk telling the chief of police he had done something wrong. It didn’t matter that they used to roll bodies over together.
“I guess you had no choice,” Bosch added.
“Just get here as soon as you can and keep me apprised. If you can’t get directly to me, use Lieutenant Rider as a go-between.”
But he didn’t offer his cell phone’s blocked number, so the message was clear to Bosch. He would no longer be talking directly with his old pal the chief. What wasn’t clear was what the chief was telling Bosch to do about the investigation.
“Chief,” he said, going formal to make sure it was clear he wasn’t calling on old loyalties. “If