The Closers

then he surprised Bosch with his wrap-up.
    “I would also like to draw your attention to two officers here as my guests today. One coming, one going. Detective Harry Bosch has returned to the department this week after a few years of retirement. I guess he learned during his extended vacation that you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”
    There was polite laughter from the crowd on the other side of the parade grounds. This was where the families and friends of the cadets sat. The chief continued.
    “So he came back to the LAPD family and already he has performed admirably. He has put himself in harm’s way for the good of the community. Yesterday he and his partner cleared a seventeen-year-old murder that had been sticking like a thorn into the side of this community. We welcome Detective Bosch back to the fold.”
    There was a smattering of applause from the crowd. Bosch felt his face go hot. He looked down at his hands.
    “I would also like to thank Deputy Chief Irvin S. Irving for being here today,” the chief continued. “Chief Irving has served in this department for nearly forty-five years. There is no current officer who has served longer. His decision to retire today and make this graduation his final action while wearing the badge is a fitting end to his tour of duty. We thank him for such service to this department and this city.”
    The applause for Irving was much louder and sustained. People started to stand in honor of the man who had served the department and city so long. Bosch turned slightly to his right so that he could see Irving ’s face and he knew the moment he saw the deputy chief’s eyes that he had not seen it coming. He had been sandbagged.
    Soon everyone was standing and clapping and Bosch felt compelled to do the same for a man he despised. He knew exactly who had engineered Irving ’s fall. If Irving protested or tried in some way to recover his position he would face an internal case built by Kizmin Rider. There would be no doubt who would lose that one. No doubt at all.
    What Bosch didn’t know was when it had been planned. Bosch thought about Rider sitting on the desk in 503, waiting for him with coffee, black just like he liked it. Had she already known then what case the cold hit had come from and where it would lead? He remembered the date on the DOJ report. It was ten days old by the time he had read it. What happened during those ten days? What was planned for his arrival?
    Bosch didn’t know and he was not sure he even cared. Department politics were played on the sixth floor. Bosch worked out of 503 and that’s where he would make his stand. No question.
    After the chief finished his remarks he stepped away from the microphone. He gave each cadet, one by one, a certificate of completion of academy training and posed for a photo shaking hands with the recipient. It was all very fast and clean and choreographed perfectly. Three police helicopters flew over the parade grounds in formation and the cadets ended the ceremony by hurling their hats into the air.
    Bosch remembered the time more than thirty years before when he had thrown his hat into the air. He smiled at the memory. No one from his class was left. They were dead or retired or washed out. He knew it was up to him to carry the banner and tradition. To fight the good fight.
    As the ceremony ended and the crowds rushed to the field to congratulate the new officers, Bosch watched Irving stand up and start walking directly across the parade grounds to the exit area. He stopped for no one, not even those who extended hands of congratulations and thanks to him.
    “Detective, you’ve had a busy week.”
    Bosch turned. It was the chief of police. He nodded. He didn’t know what to say.
    “Thank you for being here,” the chief said. “How is Detective Rider?”
    “She took the day off. She had a close one yesterday.”
    “So I heard. Will either of you be attending the press conference today?”
    “Well, she’s off and I was thinking of skipping it, if that’s all right.”
    “We’ll handle it. I see you already gave the story to the
Daily News
. Now everyone else is clamoring for it. We have to put on the dog-and-pony show.”
    “I owed the reporter from the
News
that one.”
    “Yes, I understand.”
    “When the dust settles, will I still have a job, Chief?”
    “Of course, Detective Bosch. As in any investigation, choices must be made. Tough choices. You made the best decisions you could make.