City Of Bones

Bollenbach before you do anything else. That’s an order.”
    Bosch nodded.
    “Did you ask him where I’m going?”
    “No, Harry, I’m too pissed off about it. I was afraid if I asked I’d get into it with him and it’s got nothing to do with him. Bollenbach’s just the messenger.”
    Bosch smiled.
    “You’re pissed off?”
    “That’s right. I don’t want to lose you. Especially because of some bullshit grudge somebody up top has against you.”
    He nodded and shrugged.
    “Thanks, Lieutenant. Why don’t you call him on speakerphone? We’ll get this over with.”
    Now she looked up at him.
    “You sure? I could go get a coffee so you can have the office to yourself if you want.”
    “It’s all right. Go ahead and make the call.”
    She put the phone on speaker and called Bollenbach’s office. He answered right away.
    “Lieutenant, this is Lieutenant Billets. I have Detective Bosch in my office.”
    “Very good, Lieutenant. Just let me find the order here.”
    There was the sound of papers rustling, then Bollenbach cleared his throat.
    “Detective High… Heronyim… is that-”
    “Hieronymus,” Bosch said. “Rhymes with anonymous.”
    “Hieronymus then. Detective Hieronymus Bosch, you are ordered to report for duty at Robbery-Homicide Division at oh-eight-hundred January fifteen. That is all. Are these orders clear to you?”
    Bosch was stunned. RHD was a promotion. He had been demoted from RHD to Hollywood more than ten years earlier. He looked at Billets, who also had a look of suspicious surprise on her face.
    “Did you say RHD?”
    “Yes, Detective, Robbery-Homicide Division. Are these orders clear?”
    “What’s my assignment?”
    “I just told you. You report at-”
    “No, I mean what do I do at RHD? What’s my assignment there?”
    “You’ll have to get that from your new commanding officer on the morning of the fifteenth. That’s all I have for you, Detective Bosch. You have your orders. Have a nice weekend.”
    He clicked off and a dial tone came from the speaker.
    Bosch looked at Billets.
    “What do you think? Is this some kind of a joke?”
    “If it is, it’s a good one. Congratulations.”
    “But three days ago Irving told me to quit. Then he turns around and sends me downtown?”
    “Well, maybe it’s because he wants to watch you more closely. They don’t call Parker Center the glass house for nothing, Harry. You better be careful.”
    Bosch nodded.
    “On the other hand,” she said, “we both know you should be down there. You should’ve never been taken out of there in the first place. Maybe it’s just the circle closing. Whatever it is, we’re going to miss you. I’ll miss you, Harry. You do good work.”
    Bosch nodded his thanks. He made a move toward leaving but then looked back up at her and smiled.
    “You’re not going to believe this, especially in light of what just happened, but we’re looking at Trent again. The skateboard. SID found a link to the boy on it.”
    Billets threw her head back and laughed loudly, loud enough to draw the attention of everyone in the squad room.
    “Well,” she said, “when Irving hears that, he’s definitely going to change RHD to Southeast Division, for sure.”
    Her reference was to the gang-infested district at the far end of the city. A posting that would be the pure-form example of freeway therapy.
    “I wouldn’t doubt it,” Bosch said.
    Billets dropped the smile and got serious. She asked Bosch about the latest turn in the case and listened intently while he outlined the plan to put together what would basically be a full-life profile on the dead set decorator.
    “I’ll tell you what,” she said when he was finished. “I’ll take you guys off rotation. No sense in you pulling a new case if you’re splitting for RHD. I’m also authorizing weekend OT. So work on Trent and hit it hard and let me know. You’ve got four days, Harry. Don’t leave this one on the table when you go.”
    Bosch nodded and left the office. On his way back to his space he knew all eyes in the squad room were on him. He gave nothing away. He sat down at his space and kept his eyes down.
    “So?” Edgar eventually whispered. “What did you get?”
    “RHD.”
    “RHD?”
    He had practically yelled it. It would now be known to all in the squad room. Bosch felt his face getting red. He knew everybody else would be looking at him.
    “Jesus Christ,” Edgar said. “First Kiz and now you. What am I, fucking chopped