The Last Coyote

getting hungry enough to be tempted to call for the return of the Salisbury steak, a nurse finally came back in with another food tray. This one contained a banana, a small glass of orange juice, a plastic bowl with a little box of Frosted Flakes in it and a pint-size carton of milk. He thanked her and began eating the cereal out of the box. The other stuff he didn’t want.
    He picked up the phone and dialed the main number at Parker Center and asked for Assistant Chief Irving’s office. The secretary who eventually answered said Irving was in conference with the police chief and could not be disturbed. Bosch left his number.
    Next he dialed Keisha Russell’s number at the paper.
    “It’s Bosch.”
    “Bosch, where have you been? You turn your phone off?”
    Bosch reached into his briefcase and took the phone out. He checked the battery.
    “Sorry, it’s dead.”
    “Great. That doesn’t help me any, does it? The two biggest names in that clip I gave you end up dead last night and you don’t even call. Some deal we made.”
    “Hey, this is me on the phone, right?”
    “So what’ve you got for me?”
    “What’ve you got already? What are they saying about it?”
    “They’re not saying jack. I’ve been waiting on you, man.”
    “But what are they really saying?”
    “I mean it, nothing. They’re saying both deaths are being investigated and that there is no clear connection. They’re trying to pass it off as a big coincidence.”
    “What about the other man? Did they find Vaughn?”
    “Who’s Vaughn?”
    Bosch couldn’t figure out what was happening, why there was a cover-up. He knew he should wait to hear from Irving but the anger was growing in his throat.
    “Bosch? You there? What other man?”
    “What are they saying about me?”
    “You? They’re not saying anything.”
    “The other man’s name is Jonathan Vaughn. He was there, too. Up at Mittel’s last night.”
    “How do you know?”
    “I was there, too.”
    “Bosch, you were there?”
    Bosch closed his eyes but his mind couldn’t penetrate the shroud being thrown over the case by the department. He didn’t get it.
    “Harry, we had a deal. Tell me the story.”
    He noted that it was the only time she had ever used his first name. He continued to say nothing while he tried to figure out what was happening and weighed the consequences of talking to her.
    “Bosch?”
    Back to normal.
    “All right. You got your pencil? I’m going to give you enough to get started. You’ll have to go to Irving to get the rest.”
    “I’ve been calling him. He won’t even take my calls.”
    “He will when he knows you have the story. He’ll have to.”
    By the time he was done telling her the story he was fatigued and his head was hurting again. He was ready to go to sleep, if it would have him. He wanted to forget everything and just sleep.
    “That’s an incredible story, Bosch,” she said when he was done. “I’m sorry, you know, about your mother.”
    “Thanks.”
    “What about Pounds?”
    “What about him?”
    “Is it connected? Irving was honchoing that investigation. Now he’s doing this one.”
    “You’ll have to ask him.”
    “If I can get him on the line.”
    “When you call over there, tell the adjutant to tell Irving you’re calling on behalf of Marjorie Lowe. He’ll call you back when he gets the message. I guarantee it.”
    “Okay, Bosch, last thing. We didn’t talk about this at the start like we should have. Can I use your name as a source?”
    Bosch thought about it but only for a few moments.
    “Yeah, you can use it. I don’t know what my name’s worth anymore but you can use it.”
    “Thanks. I’ll see you. You’re a pal.”
    “Yeah, I’m a pal.”
    He hung up and closed his eyes. He dozed off but wasn’t sure for how long. He was interrupted by the phone. It was Irving and he was angry.
    “What did you do?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I just got a message from a reporter. She says she’s calling because of Marjorie Lowe. Have you talked to reporters about this?”
    “I talked to one.”
    “What did you tell her?”
    “I told her enough so that you won’t be able to let this one blow away.”
    “Bosch…”
    He didn’t finish. There was a long silence and then Bosch spoke first.
    “You were going to cover it all up, weren’t you? Shove it in the trash with her. You see, after everything that’s happened, she still doesn’t count, does she?”
    “You don’t know what you’re