The Drop

two have a history.”
    “But not a good one. What can you tell me about the case?”
    “Not a lot.”
    He gave Bosch the same summary as Rider had with few additional details.
    “Who’s there from Hollywood?”
    “Glanville and Solomon.”
    Bosch was familiar with them from prior cases and task forces. Both investigators were known for their wide bodies and tall egos. They were called Crate and Barrel and enjoyed it. They were flashy dressers with big pinkie rings. And as far as Bosch knew, they were competent detectives. If they were about to wrap the investigation as a suicide, then they most likely had it right.
    “They will continue under your direction,” the chief said. “I told them personally.”
    “Okay, Chief.”
    “Harry, I need your best work on this. I don’t care about your history. Put it aside. We can’t have the councilman go off and say we laid down on this.”
    “Understood.”
    Bosch was silent for a moment as he thought about what else to ask.
    “Chief, where is the councilman?”
    “We’ve got him down in the lobby.”
    “Did he go into the room?”
    “He insisted. I let him look around without touching anything and then we walked him out.”
    “You shouldn’t have done that, Marty.”
    Bosch knew he was taking a risk telling the chief of police he had done something wrong. It didn’t matter that they used to roll bodies over together.
    “I guess you had no choice,” Bosch added.
    “Just get here as soon as you can and keep me apprised. If you can’t get directly to me, use Lieutenant Rider as a go-between.”
    But he didn’t offer his cell phone’s blocked number, so the message was clear to Bosch. He would no longer be talking directly with his old pal the chief. What wasn’t clear was what the chief was telling Bosch to do about the investigation.
    “Chief,” he said, going formal to make sure it was clear he wasn’t calling on old loyalties. “If I get up there and it’s a suicide, I’m going to call it a suicide. If you want something else, get somebody else.”
    “It’s okay, Harry. Just let the chips fall. It is what it is.”
    “You sure about that? Is that what Irving wants?”
    “It’s what I want.”
    “Got it.”
    “By the way, did Duvall give you the news about the DROP?”
    “Yeah, she told me.”
    “I pushed for the whole five but you got a couple of people on the commission who didn’t like everything in your file. We got what we could, Harry.”
    “I appreciate that.”
    “Good.”
    The chief closed the connection. Bosch barely had time to close his phone before Chu was on him with questions about what had been said. Harry relayed the conversation as he pulled off the freeway onto Sunset Boulevard and headed west.
    Chu parlayed the report on the chief’s call into a question about what really had been bothering him all morning.
    “What about the lieutenant?” he said. “Are you ever going to tell me what that was about?”
    Bosch played dumb.
    “What what was about?”
    “Don’t play dumb, Harry. When she held you back in the office, what was she saying? She wants me out of the unit, doesn’t she? I never liked her either.”
    Bosch couldn’t help himself. His partner’s glass was always half empty and an opportunity to needle him about it was not to be missed.
    “She said she wanted to move you laterally—keep you in homicide. She said there were some slots coming up in South Bureau and she’s talking to them about a switch.”
    “Jesus Christ!”
    Chu had recently moved out to Pasadena. The commute to South Bureau would be a nightmare.
    “Well, what did you tell her?” he demanded. “Did you stick up for me?”
    “South is a good gig, man. I told her you’d get seasoned down there in two years. It would take five anywhere else.”
    “Harry!”
    Bosch started laughing. It was a good release. The impending meeting with Irving was weighing on him. It was coming and he wasn’t sure yet how to play it.
    “Are you shitting me?” Chu cried, fully turned in his seat now. “Are you fucking shitting me?”
    “Yes, I’m fucking shitting you, Chu. So chill out. All she told me was that my DROP came through. You’re going to have to put up with me for another three years and three months, okay?”
    “Oh . . . well, that’s good, right?”
    “Yes, that’s good.”
    Chu was too young to worry about things like the DROP. Almost ten years before, Bosch had taken a full pension and retired from the department in an