The Harry Bosch Novels Vol Ii Part 48

"What is this? Roll over."

Bosch complied.

"I don't have it with me. I've got other ID though. Left inside pocket."

The cop started going through his jacket. Bosch was scared.

"I'm not going to do anything wrong here."

"Just be quiet."

The cop got Bosch's wallet out and looked at the driver's license that was behind a clear plastic window.

"Whaddaya got, Jimmy?" the other cop yelled. Bosch couldn't see him. "He legit?"

"Says he's a cop, got no badge. Got a DL here."

Then he hunched back down over Bosch and patted the rest of his body in a search for weapons.

"I'm clean."

"All right, turn back over."

Bosch did so and his hands were cuffed behind his back. He then heard the man above him call in for backup and an ambulance on his radio.

"All right, get up."

Bosch did as he was told. For the first time he could see the porch. The other cop stood with his handgun pointing down at Fox's crumpled body at the front door. Bosch was led up the steps to the porch. He could see Fox was still alive. His chest was heaving, he had wounds in both legs and the stomach and it looked like one slug had gone through both cheeks. His jaw hung open. But his eyes seemed even wider as he stared at death coming for him.

"I knew you'd fire, you f.u.c.k," Bosch said to him. "Just die now."

"Shut up," the one called Jimmy ordered. "Right now."

The other cop pulled him away from the front door. Out in the street, Bosch could see neighbors joining together in little knots or watching from their own porches. Nothing like gunshots in suburbia for getting people together, he thought. The smell of spent gunpowder in the air does it better than a barbecue any day.

The young cop got right up in Bosch's face. Harry could see that his name plate identified him as D. Sparks.

"Okay, what the f.u.c.k's going on here? If you're a cop, tell us what's going on."

"You two are a couple of heroes, that's what's going on."

"Tell the story, man. I don't have time for bulls.h.i.t."

Bosch could hear approaching sirens now.

"My name's Bosch. I'm with LAPD. This man you shot is the suspect in the killing of Arno Conklin, the former district attorney of this county, and LAPD Lieutenant Harvey Pounds. I'm sure you've heard about these cases."

"Jim, you hear that?" He turned back to Bosch. "Where's your badge?"

"Stolen. I can give you a number to call. a.s.sistant Chief Irvin Irving. He'll tell you about me."

"Never mind that. What's he doing here?"

He pointed to Fox.

"He told me he was hiding out. Earlier today I got a call to come to this address and he was here waiting to ambush me. See, I could identify him. He had to take me out."

The cop looked down at Fox wondering if he should believe such an incredible story.

"You got here right in time," Bosch said. "He was going to kill me."

D. Sparks nodded. He was beginning to like the sound of this story. Then concern creased his brow.

"Who called 911?" he asked.

"I did," Bosch said. "I came here, found the door open and went in. I was calling 911 when he got the jump on me. I just dropped the phone because I knew you people would come."

"Why call 911 if he hadn't grabbed you yet?"

"Because of what's in the back bedroom."

"What?"

"There's a woman in the bed. She looks like she's been dead about a week."

"Who is she?"

Bosch looked at the young cop's face.

"I don't know."

Chapter 50

"Why didn't you reveal that you knew she was your mother's killer? Why did you lie?"

"I don't know. I haven't figured it out. It's just that there was something about what she wrote and what she did at the end that ... I don't know, I just felt like that was enough. I just wanted to let it go."

Carmen Hinojos nodded her head as if she understood but Bosch wasn't sure he did himself.

"I think that's a good decision, Harry."

"You do? I don't think anybody else would think it was a good decision."

"I'm not talking about on a procedural or criminal justice level. I'm just talking about on a human level. I think you did the right thing. For yourself."

"I guess ..."

"Do you feel good about it?"

"Not really ... You were right, you know."

"I was? About what?"

"About what you said about me finding out who did it. You warned me. Said it might do me more harm than good. Well, that was an understatement ... Some mission I gave myself, right?"

"I'm sorry if I was right. But as I said in the last session, the deaths of those men can't be-"

"I'm not talking about them anymore. I'm talking about something else. You see, I know now that my mother was trying to save me from that place I was at. Like she had promised me that day out by the fence that I told you about. I think that whether she loved Conklin or not, she was thinking of me. She had to get me out and he was the way to do it. So, ultimately, you see, it was because of me that she died."

"Oh, please, don't tell yourself that, Harry. That's ridiculous."

Bosch knew that the anger in her voice was real.

"If you are going to take that form of logic," she continued, "you can come up with any reason why she was killed, you can argue that your own birth set circ.u.mstances in motion that led to her death. You see how silly that is?"

"Not really."

"It's the same argument you made the other day about people not taking responsibility. Well, the inverse of that is people who take too much responsibility. And you are becoming one of them. Let that go, Harry. Let it go. Let someone else take some responsibility for some things. Even if that someone else is dead. Being dead does not absolve them of everything."

He was cowed by the forcefulness of her admonition. He just looked at her for a long moment. He could tell her outburst would signal a natural break in the session. The discussion of his guilt was done. She had ended it and he had his instructions.

"I'm sorry to have raised my voice."

"No problem."

"Harry, what do you hear from the department?"

"Nothing. I'm waiting on Irving."

"What do you mean?"

"He kept my ... culpability out of the paper. Now it's his move. He's either going to come at me with IAD- if he can make a case against me impersonating Pounds- or he's going to let it go. I'm betting he's going to let it go."

"Why?"

"The one thing about the LAPD is that it is not into self-flagellation. Know what I mean? This case is very public and if they do something to me, they know there's always the danger it will get out and it will be one more black eye for the department. Irving sees himself as the protector of the department's image. He'll put that ahead of taking me down. Besides, he'll have leverage on me now. I mean, he thinks he will."

"You seem to know Irving and the department well."

"Why?"

"Chief Irving called me this morning and asked me to forward a positive RTD evaluation to his office as soon as possible."

"He said that? He wants a positive return-to-duty report?"

"Yes, those were his words. Do you think you are ready for that?"

He thought a few moments but didn't answer the question.

"Has he done that before? Told you how to evaluate somebody?"

"No. It's a first time and I'm very concerned about it. It undermines my position here if I simply accede to his wishes. It's quite a dilemma because I don't want you caught in the middle."

"What if he didn't tell you which way to go, what would your evaluation be? Positive or negative?"

She played with a pencil on the desktop for a few moments while considering the question.

"It's very close, Harry, but I think you need more time."

"Then don't do it. Don't give in to him."

"That's quite a change. Only a week ago all you could talk about was getting back to the job."

"That was a week ago."

There was a palpable sadness in his voice.

"Stop beating yourself to death with it," she said. "The past is like a club and you can only hit yourself in the head with it so many times before there is serious and permanent damage. I think you're at your limit. For what it's worth, I think you are a good and clean and ultimately kind man. Don't do this to yourself. Don't ruin what you have, what you are, with this kind of thinking."

He nodded as if he understood but he had dismissed her words as soon as he heard them.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking the last couple of days."

"About what?"

"Everything."

"Any decisions on anything?"

"Almost. I think I'm going to pull the pin, leave the department."

She leaned forward and folded her arms on the desk. A serious look creased her brow.

"Harry, what are you talking about? This is not like you. Your job and your life are the same. I think it's good to have some distance but not total separation. I-" She stopped when she seemed to come upon an idea. "Is this your idea of penance, of making up for what happened?"

"I don't know ... I just ... For what I did, something has to be paid. That's all. Irving's not going to do anything. I will."

"Harry, you made a mistake. A serious mistake, yes. But for that you are giving up your career, the one thing that even you readily admit you do well? You're going to throw it all away?"

He nodded.