The Drop

anytime. He said he would be in touch as the investigation progressed.
    Bosch wished her good luck and then he and Chu left. Before they reached the car, Irvin Irving came out the front door and called to them.
    “You were just going to leave without checking with me?”
    Bosch handed the keys to Chu and told him to back the car out of the driveway. He waited until he and Irving were alone before speaking.
    “Councilman, we need to get something straight here. I’m going to keep you informed but I don’t report to you. There’s a difference. This is a police investigation, not a city hall investigation. You were a cop but you’re not anymore. You’ll hear from me when I have something to report to you.”
    He turned and started walking toward the street.
    “Remember, I want an update by the end of the day,” Irving called after him.
    Bosch didn’t respond. He kept on walking like he didn’t hear.

8

    B osch told Chu to drive north toward Panorama City.
    “We’re up here,” he said. “We might as well go get a look at Clayton Pell. If he’s where he’s supposed to be.”
    “I thought the Irving case was the priority,” Chu said.
    “It is.”
    Bosch offered no further explanation. Chu nodded but had something else on his mind.
    “What about something to eat?” he asked. “We worked right through lunch and I’m starving, Harry.”
    Bosch realized he was hungry, too. He checked his watch and saw it was almost three.
    “The halfway house is way up Woodman,” he said. “There used to be a pretty good taco truck that parked on Woodman at Nordhoff. I had a trial a few years ago at the San Fernando Courthouse and my partner and I used to hit that truck every day at lunch. It’s kind of late but if we’re lucky he’ll still be there.”
    Chu was a semi-vegetarian but usually liked the idea of Mexican food.
    “Think they’ll have a bean burrito on that truck?”
    “Most likely. If not, they’ve got shrimp tacos. I’ve had them.”
    “Sounds like a plan.”
    He goosed the car’s accelerator.
    “Was that Ignacio?” Chu eventually asked. “The partner, I mean.”
    “Yeah, Ignacio,” Bosch said.
    Bosch contemplated the fate of his last partner, who was murdered in the back room of a food market two years earlier while working the case that introduced Harry to Chu. The two current partners maintained silence the rest of the way.
    The halfway house that Clayton Pell was assigned to was in Panorama City, which was the expansive neighborhood at the geographic center of the San Fernando Valley. Spawned by post–World War II prosperity and enthusiasm, it was the first planned community of Los Angeles, replacing miles of orange groves and dairy lands with the seemingly unending sprawl of inexpensive and prefabricated tract housing and low-rise apartments that soon defined the look of the Valley. Anchored by the nearby industries of the General Motors plant and the Schlitz brewery, the development represented the epoch of Los Angeles autotopia. Every man with a job and a commute. Every home with a garage. Every view a panorama of the surrounding mountains. Only American-born white people need apply.
    At least that was the way they were spinning it in 1947 when the grid work was set and the lots went up for sale. However, over the decades since the glorious ribbon cutting on the community of tomorrow, both GM and Schlitz pulled out and the views of the mountains grew hazy with smog. The streets got crowded with people and traffic, the crime rate went up at a steady pace and people started living in a lot of those garages. Iron bars went over bedroom windows and the courtyard apartment buildings put security gates across the once wide and welcoming entrances. Graffiti marked gang turf and, finally, whereas once the name Panorama City represented a future as wide and unlimited as its 360-degree views, it was now more of a cruel irony. A place with a name that reflected very little of what was actually there. Residents in parts of the once proud suburban nirvana routinely organized to try to break away to the adjoining neighborhoods of Mission Hills, North Hills and even Van Nuys so as not to be associated with Panorama City.
    Bosch and Chu were in luck. The Tacos La Familia truck was still parked at the curb on Woodman and Nordhoff. Chu found a space at the curb just two cars behind it and they got out. The taquero was cleaning up inside and putting stuff away but he still waited on them. There were