Lost Light

told was a cop.
    “Hey, man, you the cop,” Simonson said as he waved me in. “Close the door.”
    I stepped in and introduced myself. I didn’t say I was a cop.
    “Well, I’m Linus and that there’s Jim. What’s up? What can we do for you?”
    I held my hands out as though I had nothing to hide.
    “I’m not sure what you can do for me. I just wanted to drop by and sort of introduce myself. I’m working on the Angella Benton case and of course that includes the BankLA case so… here I am.”
    “Oh, man, BankLA. That’s some serious ancient history there.”
    He looked at his partner and laughed.
    “That was like another lifetime ago. I don’t want to go there, man. That’s a bad memory.”
    “Yeah, well, not as bad for you as it was for Angella Benton.”
    Simonson suddenly got serious and leaned forward on his desk.
    “I don’t get this, man. What are you doing here? You’re not a cop. Cops come in twos. If you are a cop, then you aren’t legit. What do you want? Let me see a badge.”
    “I didn’t tell anybody I had a badge. I was a cop, but not now. In fact, I thought maybe you’d recognize me from that other lifetime you were talking about.”
    Simonson looked at Oliphant and smirked.
    “Recognize you from what?”
    “I was there that day you took it in the ass. I’m talking about the bullet. But then again, you were rolling around and screaming so much you probably didn’t have time to look at me.”
    But Simonson’s eyes widened in recognition. Maybe not physical recognition but recognition of who I was and what I had done.
    “Shit, you’re the guy. You’re the cop that was there. You’re the one who shot -”
    He stopped himself from saying a name. He looked at Oliphant.
    “He’s the one who hit one of the robbers.”
    I looked at Oliphant and I saw recognition-physical recognition-and maybe something like hate or anger in his eyes.
    “That’s not known for sure because we never got the robber. But, yeah, I think I hit him. That was me.”
    I said it with a smile of pride. I kept it on my face as I turned back to Simonson.
    “Who are you working for?” Simonson asked.
    “Me? I’m working for somebody who isn’t going to stop, who isn’t going to let up. Not for a minute. He’s going to find out who put Angella Benton down on the tile and he’ll go at it until he either dies or he knows.”
    Simonson smirked again arrogantly.
    “Well, good luck to you and him, Mr. Bosch. I think you ought to go now. We’re kind of busy here.”
    I nodded to him and then looked at Oliphant, giving him the best deadeye in my repertoire.
    “Then I guess I’ll see you boys around.”
    I went through the door and down the hallway back to the bar. Chet Baker was now singing “My Funny Valentine.” As I headed for the main door I noticed the bartender flexing her bicep for two men sitting at the bar where I had stood. They were laughing. I recognized them as the remaining two kings from the magazine photo.
    They stopped laughing when they saw me and I felt their eyes on me all the way out the door.

39
    On the way home I stopped at the twenty-four-hour Ralph’s on Sunset and bought a bag of coffee. I didn’t expect that I’d be getting much sleep between the night and the multi-agency confab the following morning.
    On the drive up the hill to my house there are too many curves to use the rearview mirror to check for a tail. But there is one sweeping curve halfway up that allows you to look to your right out the passenger window and across the drop-off to the road you just covered. It’s always been my habit to slow at this spot and check for a trailer.
    This night I slowed more than usual and watched a little longer. I didn’t expect my visit to Chet’s to be taken as anything other than a threat and I wasn’t wrong. As I looked across the drop-off I saw a car with no lights on round the hill and move into the sweeping curve. I eased the gas pedal down and slowly picked up speed again. After the next curve I punched it and put a little more distance between us. I pulled all the way into the carport next to my house and quickly got out with the bag from the store. I moved into the darkest corner of the carport and waited. I heard the trail car before I saw it. Then I watched it glide by. A long Jaguar. Someone was lighting a cigarette in the backseat, and in the glow from the flame I saw the car was full. The four kings were coming for me.
    After the Jag had gone by I saw the