Bosch nodded.
“That’s what I’m thinking,” he said.
“We’d need to clear it with Abel first.”
“We follow the rules. Just like the chief told me today.”
“Holy smoke-the new Harry Bosch.”
“You’re looking at him.”
“Before we go for the tap we have to finish the due diligence. We have to make sure Roland Mackey was not known to any of the players. If that turns out to be the case then I say we go see Pratt about the tap.”
“Sounds right to me. What else did you get on the read?”
He wanted to see if she picked up on the undercurrent of race before suggesting it.
“Just what was there,” Rider responded. “Was there something I missed?”
“I don’t know-nothing obvious.”
“Then what?”
“I was thinking about the girl being biracial. Even in ’eighty-eight there would have been people that didn’t like the idea of that. Then you add in the burglary the gun came from. The vic was Jewish. He said he was being harassed. That’s why he bought the gun.”
Rider nodded thoughtfully while she finished a mouthful of rice.
“It’s something to look for,” she said. “But I don’t see enough there to hang a lantern on at the moment.”
“There was nothing in the book…”
They ate in silence for a few minutes. Bosch always thought Chinese Friends had the softest and sweetest shrimp he had ever tasted in fried rice. The pork chops, as thin as the plastic plates they ate off of, were also perfect. And Kiz was right, they were best eaten by hand.
“What about Green and Garcia?” Rider finally asked.
“What about them?”
“How would you grade them on this?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a C if I was being charitable. They made mistakes, slowed things down. After that they seemed to cover the bases. You?”
“Same thing. They wrote a good murder book but it’s got CYA written all through it. Like they knew they were never going to break it but wanted the book to look like they turned over every stone.”
Bosch nodded and looked down at his pad on the empty chair to the side. He looked at the list of people to interview.
“We’ve got to talk to the parents and Garcia and Green. We need to get a photo of Mackey, too. From when he was eighteen.”
“I think we hold back on the parents until we talk to everybody else. They might be most important but they should be last. I want to know as much as possible before we hit them with this after seventeen years.”
“Fine. Maybe we should start at probation. He only cleared a year ago. He probably was assigned to Van Nuys.”
“Right. We could go there and then walk over to talk to Art Garcia.”
“You found him? He’s still around?”
“Didn’t have to look. He’s commander of Valley Bureau now.”
Bosch nodded. He was not surprised. Garcia had done well. The rank of commander put him just below deputy chief. It meant he was second in command over the Valley’s five police divisions, including Devonshire, where years earlier he had worked the Verloren case.
Rider continued.
“In addition to our regular projects in the chief’s office, each of the special assistants was assigned as sort of a liaison to one of the four bureaus. My assignment was the Valley. So Commander Garcia and I spoke from time to time. Most often I dealt with his staff, or Deputy Chief Vartan, that sort of thing.”
“I know what you’re saying-I have a highly connected partner. You were probably telling Vartan and Garcia how to run the Valley.”
She shook her head in false annoyance.
“Don’t give me shit about all of that. Working on six gave me a good view of the department and how it works.”
“Or doesn’t. Speaking of which, there’s something I should tell you.”
“What is it?”
“I ran into Irving when I went down to get coffee. Right after you left.”
Rider immediately looked concerned.
“What happened? What did he say?”
“Not a lot. He just called me a retread and mentioned that I was going to crash and burn and that when I did I would take the chief down with me for hiring me back. Then, of course, when the dust settles Mr. Clean would be there to step up.”
“Jesus, Harry. One day on the job and you already have Irving biting you on the ass?”
Bosch spread his hands wide, almost hitting the shoulder of a man sitting at the next table.
“I went to get coffee. He was there. He approached me, Kiz. I was just minding my own business. I swear.”
She bent her face down to look at her plate. She continued eating without talking to him. She dropped her last pork chop half eaten on the plate.
“I can’t eat any more, Harry. Let’s get out of here.”
“I’m ready.”
Bosch left more than enough money on the table and Rider said she would get the next one. Outside they got into Bosch’s car, a black Mercedes SUV, and drove back through Chinatown to the entrance of the northbound 101. They made it all the way to the freeway before Rider spoke again about Irving.
“Harry, don’t take him lightly,” she said. “Be very careful.”
“I am always careful, Kiz, and I have never taken that man lightly.”
“All I’m saying is, he’s been passed over twice for the top spot. He may be getting desperate.”
“Yeah, you know what I don’t get? Why didn’t your guy get rid of him when he came in here? I mean, just clean house. Pushing Irving across the street doesn’t put an end to the threat. Anybody knows that.”
“He couldn’t push him. Irving ’s got forty-plus years on the job. He has a lot of connections that go outside the department and into City Hall. And he knows where a lot of the bodies are buried. The chief couldn’t make a move against him unless he was sure there wouldn’t be any blowback from it.”
More silence followed. The early afternoon traffic out to the Valley was light. They had KFWB, the all news and traffic channel, on the radio and there were no reports of problems ahead. Bosch checked the gas and saw he had half a tank. That was plenty.
They had decided earlier to alternate use of their personal cars. A department car had been requisitioned and approved for them to share, but they both knew that getting the R amp;A was the easy part. It would most likely be months if not longer before they would actually get the wheels. The department had neither the spare car nor the money for a new one. Getting the R amp;A had simply been a paperwork approval needed before they could charge the department for gas and mileage on their personal cars. Bosch knew that over time he would probably put so many miles on his SUV that the expense payout would likely cost the department more than the approved car.
“Look,” he finally said, “I know what you’re thinking even if you’re not saying it. It’s not just me you’re worried about. You stuck your neck out for me and you convinced the chief to take me back in. Believe me, Kiz, I know it’s not just me riding on this-on this retread. You don’t have to worry and you can tell the chief he doesn’t have to worry. I get it. There won’t be a blowout. There won’t be any blowback from me.”
“Good, Harry. I’m glad to hear that.”
He tried to think of something that he could say to convince her further. He knew words were just words.
“You know, I don’t know if I ever told you this, but after I quit I really sort of liked it at first. You know, being out of the squad and just sort of doing what I wanted. Then I started to miss it and then I started working cases again. On my own. Anyway, one thing that happened was I started walking with sort of a limp.”
“A limp?”
“Just a little thing. Like one of my heels was lower than the other. Like I was uneven.”
“Well, did you check your shoes?”
“I didn’t need to check my shoes. It wasn’t my shoes. It was my gun.”