The Drop

Irving had his head down, eyes on the ornate pattern of the rug in front of him.
    “I’ve worked for this city in one capacity or another for over fifty years,” he continued. “And here I am and I can’t trust a soul in it. So I reach out to a man I’ve tried to destroy in the past. Why? I’m not even sure myself. I suppose it’s because there was an integrity to our skirmishes. An integrity to you. I didn’t like you or your methods but I respected you.”
    He looked up at Bosch now.
    “I want you to tell me what happened to my son, Detective Bosch. I want the truth and I think I can trust you to give it to me.”
    “No matter how it falls?”
    “No matter how it falls.”
    Bosch nodded.
    “I can do that.”
    He started to get up but paused when Irving continued.
    “You said once that everybody counts or nobody counts. I remember that. This would put that to the test. Does the son of your enemy count? Will you give your best effort for him? Will you be relentless for him?”
    Bosch just stared at him. Everybody counts or nobody counts . It was his code as a man. But it was never spoken. It was only followed. He was sure he had never said it to Irving.
    “When?”
    “Excuse me?”
    “When did I say that?”
    Realizing he may have misspoken, Irving shrugged and adopted the pose of a confused old man even though his eyes were as sharp as black marbles in snow.
    “I don’t remember, actually. It’s just something I know about you.”
    Bosch stood up.
    “I’ll find out what happened to your son. Is there anything you can tell me about what he was doing here?”
    “No, nothing.”
    “How did you find out this morning?”
    “I was called by the chief of police. Personally. I came right away. But they wouldn’t let me see him.”
    “They were right. Did he have a family? I mean besides you.”
    “A wife and son—the boy just went away to college. I was just on the phone with Deborah. I told her the news.”
    “If you call her back, tell her I’ll be coming to see her.”
    “Of course.”
    “What did your son do for a living?”
    “He was a lawyer specializing in corporate relations.”
    Bosch waited for more but that was all that was offered.
    “‘Corporate relations’? What does that mean?”
    “It means he got things done. People came to him when they wanted things done in this city. He had worked for the city. First as a cop, then for the City Attorney.”
    “And he had an office?”
    “He had a small place downtown, but mostly he had a cell phone. That was how he worked.”
    “What did he call his company?”
    “It was a law firm. Irving and Associates—only there weren’t any associates. Just a one-man shop.”
    Bosch knew he would have to come back to this. But it wasn’t useful to spar with Irving when he had so little basic knowledge through which to filter the councilman’s answers. He would wait until he knew more.
    “I’ll be in touch,” he said.
    Irving raised his hand and flipped two fingers out with a business card between them.
    “This is my private cell number. I’ll expect to hear something from you by the end of the day.”
    Or you’ll take another ten million out of the overtime budget? Bosch didn’t like this. But he took the card and headed to the elevators.
    On the way up to seven he thought about the stilted conversation with Irving. What bothered him most was that Irving knew his code, and Harry had a pretty good idea how he had come by the information. It was something he would have to deal with later.

5

    T he upper floors of the hotel followed an L pattern. Bosch got off the elevator on seven and took a left to go around a corner and down to room 79 at the end of the hallway. There was a uniformed officer on the door. It made Bosch think of something and he pulled his phone. He called Kiz Rider’s cell and she answered right away.
    “Did you know what he did for a living?” he asked.
    “Who are you talking about, Harry?” she responded.
    “Who else, George Irving. Did you know he was some sort of fixer?”
    “I heard that he was a lobbyist.”
    “A lawyer lobbyist. Listen, I need you to flex the muscles of the chief’s office and put a cop on his office door until I can get there. Nobody in or out.”
    “Not a problem. Is what he did as a lobbyist in play here?”
    “You never know. I’d just feel better if there was somebody on the door.”
    “You got it, Harry.”
    “I’ll talk to you later.”
    Bosch put his phone away and