The Last Coyote

identified him as D. Sparks.
    “Okay, what the fuck’s going on here? If you’re a cop, tell us what’s going on.”
    “You two are a couple of heroes, that’s what’s going on.”
    “Tell the story, man. I don’t have time for bullshit.”
    Bosch could hear approaching sirens now.
    “My name’s Bosch. I’m with LAPD. This man you shot is the suspect in the killing of Arno Conklin, the former district attorney of this county, and LAPD Lieutenant Harvey Pounds. I’m sure you’ve heard about these cases.”
    “Jim, you hear that?” He turned back to Bosch. “Where’s your badge?”
    “Stolen. I can give you a number to call. Assistant Chief Irvin Irving. He’ll tell you about me.”
    “Never mind that. What’s he doing here?”
    He pointed to Fox.
    “He told me he was hiding out. Earlier today I got a call to come to this address and he was here waiting to ambush me. See, I could identify him. He had to take me out.”
    The cop looked down at Fox wondering if he should believe such an incredible story.
    “You got here right in time,” Bosch said. “He was going to kill me.”
    D. Sparks nodded. He was beginning to like the sound of this story. Then concern creased his brow.
    “Who called 911?” he asked.
    “I did,” Bosch said. “I came here, found the door open and went in. I was calling 911 when he got the jump on me. I just dropped the phone because I knew you people would come.”
    “Why call 911 if he hadn’t grabbed you yet?”
    “Because of what’s in the back bedroom.”
    “What?”
    “There’s a woman in the bed. She looks like she’s been dead about a week.”
    “Who is she?”
    Bosch looked at the young cop’s face.
    “I don’t know.”

Chapter Fifty
    “WHY DIDN’T YOU reveal that you knew she was your mother’s killer? Why did you lie?”
    “I don’t know. I haven’t figured it out. It’s just that there was something about what she wrote and what she did at the end that…I don’t know, I just felt like that was enough. I just wanted to let it go.”
    Carmen Hinojos nodded her head as if she understood but Bosch wasn’t sure he did himself.
    “I think that’s a good decision, Harry.”
    “You do? I don’t think anybody else would think it was a good decision.”
    “I’m not talking about on a procedural or criminal justice level. I’m just talking about on a human level. I think you did the right thing. For yourself.”
    “I guess…”
    “Do you feel good about it?”
    “Not really…You were right, you know.”
    “I was? About what?”
    “About what you said about me finding out who did it. You warned me. Said it might do me more harm than good. Well, that was an understatement…Some mission I gave myself, right?”
    “I’m sorry if I was right. But as I said in the last session, the deaths of those men can’t be-”
    “I’m not talking about them anymore. I’m talking about something else. You see, I know now that my mother was trying to save me from that place I was at. Like she had promised me that day out by the fence that I told you about. I think that whether she loved Conklin or not, she was thinking of me. She had to get me out and he was the way to do it. So, ultimately, you see, it was because of me that she died.”
    “Oh, please, don’t tell yourself that, Harry. That’s ridiculous.”
    Bosch knew that the anger in her voice was real.
    “If you are going to take that form of logic,” she continued, “you can come up with any reason why she was killed, you can argue that your own birth set circumstances in motion that led to her death. You see how silly that is?”
    “Not really.”
    “It’s the same argument you made the other day about people not taking responsibility. Well, the inverse of that is people who take too much responsibility. And you are becoming one of them. Let that go, Harry. Let it go. Let someone else take some responsibility for some things. Even if that someone else is dead. Being dead does not absolve them of everything.”
    He was cowed by the forcefulness of her admonition. He just looked at her for a long moment. He could tell her outburst would signal a natural break in the session. The discussion of his guilt was done. She had ended it and he had his instructions.
    “I’m sorry to have raised my voice.”
    “No problem.”
    “Harry, what do you hear from the department?”
    “Nothing. I’m waiting on Irving.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “He kept my…culpability out of the paper.