Echo Park

sketchy at best. Both of the victims killed by Waits had been family men. The wounded detective, Kizmin Rider, had recently separated from a “life partner”—code for reporting that she was gay. Bosch didn’t recognize the names of the reporters on the stories and thought maybe they were new to the police beat and without sources close enough to the investigation to reveal the inside details.
    On the jump pages of both papers he found sidebar stories that focused on the political response to the shooting and escape. Both papers quoted a variety of local pundits who for the most part said it was too early to tell whether the Beachwood incident would help or hinder Rick O’Shea’s candidacy for district attorney. While it was his case that went horribly awry, the reports of his selfless efforts to help save the wounded law officer while an armed killer was loose in the very same woods could be a balancing positive.
    Said one pundit: “In this city, politics are like the movie business; nobody knows anything. This could be the best thing that happens to O’Shea. It could be the worst.”
    Of course, O’Shea’s opponent, Gabriel Williams, was quoted liberally in both papers, calling the incident an unpardonable disgrace and laying all blame at O’Shea’s feet. Bosch thought about the missing videotape and wondered how much it would be worth to the Williams camp. Perhaps, he thought, Corvin the videographer had already found out.
    In both papers Irvin Irving got his licks in and in doing so took a specific swipe at Bosch for being the epitome of what was wrong in the police department, something Irving as a city councilman would right. He said Bosch should never have been hired back into the department the year before and that Irving, as a deputy chief at the time, had lobbied hard against it. The papers said Bosch was under investigation by the department’s OIS squad and could not be reached for comment. Neither noted that the OIS routinely conducted an investigation of every shooting that involved a police officer, so what was presented to the public seemed unusual and therefore suspicious.
    Bosch noticed that the sidebar in the
Times
had been written by Keisha Russell, who had worked the cop beat for a number of years before finally reaching a level of burnout that led her to ask for a new beat. She had landed in politics—a beat with its own high burnout rate. She had called and left a message for Bosch the night before but he had been in no mood to talk to a reporter, even one he trusted.
    He still had her numbers programmed in his cell. When she worked cops he had been her source on a number of occasions, and she had provided him with help several times in return. He put the papers aside and took his first bites of French toast. His breakfast had both powdered sugar and maple syrup on it and he knew the sugar high would help charge him into the day.
    After getting through about half of the meal he pulled out his cell and called the reporter’s number. She answered right away.
    “Keisha,” he said. “It’s Harry Bosch.”
    “Harry Bosch,” she said. “Well, long time no see.”
    “Well, with you being a big shot on the political scene now . . .”
    “Ah, but now it is politics
and
police coming together in a violent collision, isn’t it? How come you didn’t call me back yesterday?”
    “Because you know I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation, especially an investigation involving myself. Besides that, you called after my phone died. I didn’t get your message until I got home, and it was probably after your deadline.”
    “How is your partner?” she said, putting the banter aside for a serious tone.
    “Hanging in.”
    “And you came away unscathed as reported?”
    “In the physical sense.”
    “But not the political.”
    “That’s right.”
    “Well, the story is already in the paper. Calling to comment and defend yourself now doesn’t exactly work.”
    “I’m not calling to comment or defend myself. I don’t like my name in the paper.”
    “Oh, then I get it. You want to go off the record and be my Deep Throat on this.”
    “Not quite.”
    He heard her blowing out her breath in frustration.
    “Then why are you calling, Harry?”
    “First of all, I always like hearing your voice, Keisha. You know that. And second, on the political beat, you probably have direct lines to all of the candidates. You know, so you can get them to give a quick comment on any issue that