Trunk Music

result in one of two findings: the allegations are either sustained or ruled unfounded. Chastain had a high ratio of sustained to unfounded cases-thus the departmental moniker which he wore like a medal.
    “If this is the subject of a departmental investigation, I think I’m entitled to representation,” Bosch said. “I don’t know what this is about but I don’t have to tell you people anything.”
    “Detective,” Irving said. He slid a sheet of paper across the table to Bosch. “That is a signed order from the chief of police telling you to cooperate with these gentlemen. If you choose not to, you will be suspended without pay forthwith. And you’ll be assigned your union rep then.”
    Bosch looked down at the letter. It was a form letter and he had received them before. It was all part of the department’s way of backing you into the corner, to the point that you had to talk to them or you didn’t eat.
    “I found the gun,” Bosch said without looking up from the order. “It was in the master bathroom, wrapped in plastic and secreted between the toilet tank and the wall. Somebody said the mobsters in The Godfather did that. The movie. But I don’t remember.”
    “Were you alone when you supposedly found the weapon there?”
    “Supposedly? Are you saying it wasn’t there?”
    “Just answer the question, please.”
    Bosch shook his head in disgust. He didn’t know what was going on but it was looking worse than he had imagined.
    “I wasn’t alone. The house was full of cops.”
    “Were they in the master bathroom with you?” O’Grady asked.
    Bosch just looked at O’Grady. He was at least ten years younger than Bosch, with the clean-cut looks the bureau prized.
    “I thought Mr. Samuels was going to handle the questioning,” Irving said.
    “I am,” Samuels said. “Were any of these cops in that bathroom with you when you located this weapon?”
    “I was by myself. As soon as I saw it, I called the uniform in the bedroom in to take a look before I even touched it. If this is about Goshen’s lawyer making some beef to you people about me planting the gun, it’s bullshit. The gun was there, and besides, we’ve got enough on him without the gun. We’ve got motive, prints…why would I plant a gun?”
    “To make it a slam dunk,” O’Grady said.
    Bosch blew out his breath in disgust.
    “It’s typical of the bureau to drop everything and come after an L.A. cop just because some sleezeball gangster drops a dime. What, are they givin’ annual bonuses now if you guys nail a cop? Double if it’s an L.A. cop? Fuck you, O’Grady. Okay?”
    “Yeah, fuck me. Just answer the questions.”
    “Then ask them.”
    Samuels nodded as if Bosch had scored a point and moved his pen a half inch down his pad.
    “Do you know,” he asked, “did any other police officer enter that bathroom before you entered to search it and subsequently found the gun?”
    Bosch tried to remember, picturing the movements of the Metro cops in the room. He was sure no one had gone into the bathroom other than to take a quick look to make sure no one was in there hiding.
    “I don’t know for sure about that,” he said. “But I doubt it. If somebody did go in, there wasn’t enough time to plant the gun. The gun was already there.”
    Samuels nodded again, consulted his legal pad and then looked at Irving.
    “Chief Irving, I think that’s as far as we want to take it for the moment. We certainly appreciate your cooperation in this matter and I expect we’ll be talking again soon.”
    Samuels made a move to stand up.
    “Wait a minute,” Bosch said. “That’s it? You’re just going to get up and leave? What the fuck is going on here? I deserve an explanation. Who made the complaint, Goshen’s lawyer? Because I’m going to make a complaint right back at him.”
    “Your deputy chief can discuss this with you, if he chooses to.”
    “No, Samuels. You tell me. You’re asking the questions, now you answer a few.”
    Samuels drummed his pen on his pad for a moment and looked at Irving. Irving opened his hands to show it was his choice. Samuels then leaned forward and looked balefully at Bosch.
    “If you insist on an explanation, I’ll give you one,” he said. “I’m limited, of course, in what I can say.”
    “Jesus, would you just tell me what the hell is going on?”
    Samuels cleared his throat before going on.
    “About four years ago, in a joint operation involving the FBI offices in Chicago, Las