The Closers

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