“I know, you’re marrying the lady with the lipstick?”
“No, serious now, and there was no lipstick.”
“I know. What is it?”
“Well, I’m thinking about turning in my badge. Retiring. It might be time.”
She didn’t respond for a long time. He had expected an immediate and urgent demand that he trash such thoughts but to her credit she seemed to be running it through her processes and not kicking out a first and possibly wrong response.
“But why?” she finally asked.
“Well, I am thinking that I’m tailing off, you know? Like anything—athletics, shooting, playing music, even creative thinking—there’s a drop-off of skills at a certain point. And, I don’t know, but maybe I’m getting there and I should get out. I’ve seen people lose their edge and it increases the danger. I don’t want to miss the chance to see you grow up and shine at whatever you decide you want to do.”
She nodded as if in agreement but then the keen perception and disagreement came out.
“You’re thinking all of this because of one case?”
“Not just the one case but that’s a good example. I totally went the wrong way with it. I have to think that wouldn’t have happened five years ago. Even two years ago. I might be losing the edge you need to do this.”
“But sometimes you have to go the wrong way to find the right way.”
She turned in her seat to look directly at him.
“Like you told me, you make your own choices. But if I were you, I wouldn’t do anything real quick.”
“I’m not. There’s a guy out there that I have to find first. I was thinking that would be a good one to go out on.”
“But what would you do if you quit?”
“I’m not sure but I know one thing. I think I would be able to be a better father. You know, be around more.”
“That doesn’t necessarily make you a better father. Remember that.”
Bosch nodded. He sometimes had a hard time believing he was talking to a fifteen-year-old. This was one of those times.
33
On Sunday morning, Bosch dropped his daughter off at the mall in Century City. The day had been reserved a week earlier for her and her friends Ashlyn and Konner to meet at the mall at eleven and then spend the day shopping, eating and gossiping. The girls scheduled mall days once a month and targeted a different shopping center each time. This time Bosch felt the most comfortable leaving them on their own. No mall was safe from predators but he knew that security would be at its maximum on a Sunday and the Century City mall had a good record of vigilance. They had undercover officers posing as shoppers all through the place and much of the weekend security force was composed of moonlighting cops.
On most mall Sundays, Bosch would head downtown after the daughter drop and work in the deserted OU squad room. He liked the stillness of the place on the weekends and it usually brought a strong focus to his case work. But this time he wanted to stay away from the PAB. He had picked up the Times early that morning when he went down the hill to buy milk and coffee at the convenience store. Standing in line, he had noticed that there was another front-page story related to George Irving’s death. He bought the paper and read the story in the car. Reported by Emily Gomez-Gonzmart, it focused on George Irving’s work for Regent Taxi and raised questions about the seeming coincidence of his representation of the company and the rise of legal issues that befell Black & White, its competitor for the Hollywood area franchise. The story made the leap to Irvin Irving. Arrest records led them to Officer Robert Mason, who told the same tale of being directly asked by the councilman to crack down on B&W.
Bosch guessed that the story was going to cause a stir at the PAB as well as City Hall. He would steer clear of the place until he had to go in to work the next morning.
As he drove away from the mall, Bosch pulled his phone to make sure it was on. He was surprised he had not heard from Chu, if only to deny that he was the source who had steered GoGo toward the story. He was also surprised not to have received a call from Kiz Rider. The fact that it was closing in on noon and she had not called him about the story told him one thing. That she was the story’s source and was lying low herself.
Either on her own or more likely in concert with the chief’s tacit direction, the play had been to out Irvin Irving rather than coerce his cooperation through silence. It was hard not to agree with the choice. Dangling him out there in the media, tainting him with the brush of corruption, could serve to eliminate him as a threat to the department. A lot could happen in the final month of an election campaign. Maybe the chief had decided to take his best shot now and see if the story might gather steam and affect the outcome of the election. Maybe he wanted to take the chance that Irving’s opponent would be a friend to the department rather than a compromised and coerced enemy.