Bosch went back to the same table as the chief paid for his coffee and doughnuts. He sat down and waited while the chief took his purchase to another counter and put cream and sweetener into his coffee. Bosch believed that the chief had been good for the department. He had made a few missteps politically and some questionable choices in command staff assignments but had largely been responsible for raising the morale of the rank and file.
That was no easy task. The chief had inherited a department operating under a federal consent decree negotiated in the wake of the FBI’s Rampart corruption probe and myriad other scandals. All aspects of operation and performance were subject to review and compliance assessment by federal monitors. The result was that the department was not only answering to the feds but was awash in federal paperwork. Already an undersized department, it was hard sometimes to see where any police work was getting done. But under the new chief the rank and file had somehow pulled together to get the job done. Crime stats were even down, which to Bosch meant there was a good possibility that actual crime was down as well-he viewed crime statistics with suspicion.
But all of that aside, Bosch liked the chief for one overarching reason. Two years earlier he had given Bosch his job back. Bosch had retired and gone private. It didn’t take him long to realize it was a mistake and when he did, the new chief welcomed him back. It made Bosch loyal and that was one reason he was forcing the meeting at the doughnut shop.
The chief sat down across from him.
“You’re lucky, Detective. Most days I would have been here and gone an hour ago. But I worked late last night hitting Crime Watch meetings in three parts of the city.”
Rather than open his doughnut bag and reach in, the chief tore it down the middle so he could spread it and eat his two doughnuts off it. He had a powdered-sugar and a chocolate-glazed.
“Here’s the most dangerous killer in the city,” he said as he raised the chocolate-glazed doughnut and took a bite.
Bosch nodded.
“You’re probably right.”
Bosch smiled uneasily and tried an icebreaker. His old partner Kiz Rider had just come back to work after recovering from gunshot wounds. She transferred out of Robbery-Homicide to the chief’s office, where she had worked once before.
“How’s my old partner doing, Chief?”
“Kiz? Kiz is good. She does fine work for me and I think she’s in the right spot.”
Bosch nodded again. He did that a lot.
“Are you in the right spot, Detective?”
Bosch looked at the chief and wondered if he might already be questioning his jumping the chain of command. Before he could work up an answer the chief asked another question.
“Are you here about the Mulholland overlook case?”
Bosch nodded. He assumed that the word had gone up the pipe from Lieutenant Gandle and that the chief had been briefed in some detail about the case.
“I work out for an hour every morning just so I can eat this stuff,” the chief said. “The overnights are faxed to me and I read them on the recumbent bike. I know you caught the overlook case and it’s got federal interest. Captain Hadley also called me this morning. He said there is a terrorism angle.”
Bosch was surprised to learn that Captain Done Badly and the OHS were already in the picture.
“What is Captain Hadley doing?” he asked. “He hasn’t called me.”
“The usual. Checking our own intelligence, trying to open lines with the feds.”
Bosch nodded.
“So, what can you tell me, Detective? Why did you come here?”
Bosch gave him a fuller rundown on the case, accenting the federal involvement and what was looking like an effort to shut the LAPD out of its own investigation. Bosch acknowledged that the missing cesium was a priority and true cause for the feds to throw their weight around. But he said the case was a homicide, and that cut the LAPD in. He went over the evidence he had collected and laid out some of the theories he had been con-sidering.
The chief had consumed both doughnuts by the time Bosch was finished. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and then checked his watch before responding. They were well past the five minutes he had initially offered.
“What aren’t you telling me?” he asked.
Bosch shrugged.
“Not much. I just had a little dustup with an agent at the victim’s house but I don’t think anything will come of it.”
“Why isn’t your partner in here? Why is he waiting in the car?”
Bosch understood. The chief had seen Ferras when he scanned the lot upon his arrival.
“We’re having a little bit of a disagreement on how to proceed. He’s a good kid but he wants to roll over for the feds a little too easy.”
“And of course we don’t do that in the LAPD.”
“Not in my time, Chief.”
“Did your partner think it was appropriate to ignore the department’s chain of command by coming directly to me with this?”
Bosch dropped his eyes to the table. The chief’s voice had taken on a stern tone.
“As a matter of fact he wasn’t happy about it, Chief,” Bosch said. “It wasn’t his idea. It was mine. I just didn’t think there was enough time to-”
“Doesn’t matter what you thought. It’s what you did. So if I were you I would keep this meeting to yourself and I will as well. Don’t ever do it this way again, Detective. Are we clear on that?”
“Yes, clear.”
The chief glanced toward the glass display case where the doughnuts were lined up on trays.
“And by the way, how did you know that I would be here?” he asked.
Bosch shrugged.
“I don’t remember. I just sort of knew.”
He then realized that the chief might be thinking that Bosch’s source was his old partner.
“It wasn’t Kiz, if that’s what you mean, Chief,” he said quickly. “It’s just something that gets known, you know? Word gets around the department.”
The police chief nodded.
“It’s too bad,” he said. “I liked this place. Convenient, good doughnuts and Mr. Ming takes care of me. What a shame.”
Bosch realized that the chief would now have to change his routine. It did not serve him well if it was known where he could be found and when.
“Sorry, sir,” Bosch said. “But if I might make a recommendation. There’s a place in the Farmer’s Market called Bob’s Coffee and Doughnuts. It’s a bit out of the way for you but the coffee and doughnuts would be worth it.”
The chief nodded thoughtfully.
“I’ll keep it in mind. Now, what is it you want from me, Detective Bosch?”
Bosch decided that the chief obviously wanted to get down to business.
“I need to take the case where it goes and to do that I need access to Alicia Kent and her husband’s partner, a guy named Kelber. The feds have them both and I think my window of access closed about five hours ago.”
After a pause, Bosch got to the point of the whole unscheduled meeting.
“That’s why I’m here, Chief. I need access. I figure you can get it for me.”
The chief nodded.
“Besides my position in the department, I sit on the Joint-Terrorism Task Force. I can make some calls, raise some hell and probably open the window. As I said before, we have Captain Hadley’s unit on this already and perhaps he can open up the channels of communication. We have been kept out of the loop on these things in the past. I can raise the flag, put in a call to the director.”
To Bosch it sounded like the chief was going to go to bat for him.
“You know what reflux is, Detective?”
“Reflux?”
“It’s a condition where all the bile backs up into your throat. It burns, Detective.”
“Oh.”
“What I am telling you is that if I make these moves and I get that window open for you, I don’t want any reflux. You understand me?”
“I understand.”
The chief wiped his mouth again and put the napkin down on his torn bag. He then crumpled it all into a ball, careful not to spill any powdered sugar on his black suit.