The Last Coyote

existence, it’s a shame that your play here the other night cost an innocent man his life.”
    “No. It’s a fucking crime you killed an innocent man.”
    “Well, I was thinking more along the lines that it was you who killed him. I mean, of course, you are ultimately responsible.”
    “Just like a lawyer, passing the buck. Should’ve stayed out of politics, Gordie. Stuck to the law. You’d probably have your own TV commercials by now.”
    Mittel smiled.
    “And what? Given up all of this?”
    He spread his arms to take in the house and the magnificent view. Bosch followed the arc of his arm to look at the house but he was really trying to get a bead on the other man, the one with the gun. He spotted him standing five feet directly behind him, the gun at his side. He was still too far away for Bosch to risk making a move. Especially in his condition. He moved his arm slightly and felt the billiard ball nesting in the crook of his elbow. It was reassuring to him. It was all he had.
    “The law is for fools, Detective Bosch. But I must correct you. I don’t really consider myself to be in politics. I consider myself to be just a fixer. A solver of problems of any kind for anyone. Political problems just happen to be my forte. But now, you see, I have to fix a problem that is neither political nor someone else’s. This one is my own.”
    He raised his eyebrows as though he could hardly believe it himself.
    “And that’s why I have invited you here. Why I asked Jonathan to bring you along. You see, I had an idea that if we watched Arno Conklin, our mystery party crasher of the other night would eventually show up. And I wasn’t disappointed.”
    “You’re a clever man, Mittel.”
    Bosch turned his head slightly so that he could see Jonathan in his peripheral vision. He was still out of reach. Bosch knew he had to draw him closer.
    “Hold your ground, Jonathan,” Mittel said. “Mr. Bosch is not one to get excited about. Just a minor inconvenience.”
    Bosch looked back at Mittel.
    “Just like Marjorie Lowe, right? She was just a minor inconvenience. Just a nobody who didn’t count.”
    “Now, that’s an interesting name to bring up. Is that what this is about, Detective Bosch?”
    Bosch stared at him, too angry to speak.
    “Well, the only thing I can admit to is that I did use her death to my advantage. I saw it as an opportunity, you could say.”
    “I know all about it, Mittel. You used her to get control of Conklin. But eventually even he saw through your lies. It’s over now. It doesn’t matter what you do to me here, my people will be coming. You can count on it.”
    “The old give-up-the-place-is-surrounded-ploy. I don’t think so. This badge business…something tells me that you’ve exceeded your bounds on this one. I think maybe this is what they call an unofficial investigation and the fact that you used a false name before and were carrying a dead man’s badge tend to bear me out…I don’t think anyone is coming. Are they?”
    Bosch’s mind raced but he drew a blank and remained silent.
    “I think you’re just a small-time extortionist who stumbled onto something somehow and wants a payoff to go away. Well, we’re going to give you a payoff, Detective Bosch.”
    “There are people who know what I know, Mittel,” Bosch blurted. “What are you going to do, go out and kill them all?”
    “I’ll take that suggestion under advisement.”
    “What about Conklin? He knows the whole story. Anything happens to me, I guarantee he’ll go right to the cops.”
    “As a matter of fact, you could say Arno Conklin is with the police right now. But I don’t think he’s saying much.”
    Bosch dropped his head and slumped a little. He had guessed that Conklin was dead but had hoped he was wrong. He felt the billiard ball move in his sleeve and he folded his arms again to cover up.
    “Yes. Apparently, the former district attorney threw himself from his window after your visit.”
    Mittel stepped aside and pointed out into the lights below. Far off Bosch could see the cluster of lighted buildings that were Park La Brea. And he could see blue and red lights flashing at the base of one of the buildings. It was Conklin’s building.
    “Must have been a truly traumatic moment,” Mittel continued. “He chose death rather than give in to extortion. A principled man to the end.”
    “He was an old man!” Bosch yelled angrily. “Goddamnit, why?”
    “Detective Bosch, keep your voice down