Chapters (41)
- Amazon.com Review
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
Bosch turned. The chief of police was standing to his side with his hand out. Bosch instinctively shook it. He had spent nearly twenty-five years in the department to the chief’s thirty, yet they had never crossed paths close enough to speak to each other, let alone shake hands.
“Chief.”
“Good to meet you. I want you to know how much we are counting on you and your team. If you need anything don’t hesitate to contact my office or to go through Deputy Chief Irving. Anything.”
“Well, at the moment I think we’re okay. I appreciate the heads-up on the bureau, though.”
The chief hesitated but only for a moment, apparently discarding Bosch’s gripe as unimportant.
“That couldn’t be helped. I wasn’t sure the bureau was going to become involved until shortly before we started the press conference.”
The chief turned and looked for the FBI man. Spencer was talking with Irving. The chief signaled them over and introduced Bosch to Spencer. Bosch thought he caught a glimmer of disdain on Spencer’s face. Bosch did not have a positive record over the years in his dealings with the FBI. He had never dealt directly with Spencer but if he was assistant special agent in charge of the L.A. field office, then he had probably heard of Bosch.
“How are we going to work this, gentlemen?” the chief asked.
“I’ll have my people assembled and here at eight tomorrow morning, if you like,” Spencer said.
“Excellent. Chief Irving?”
“Yes, that will be fine. We will be working out of the conference room next to my office. I’ll have our team there at eight. We can go over what we’ve got and take it from there.”
Everybody nodded except Bosch. He knew he had no say in the matter.
They broke up and headed toward the door the chief had come through. Bosch found himself next to O’Rourke. He asked him if he knew who the reporter was who asked about the watch and wallet.
“Tom Chainey.”
It almost rang a bell with Bosch but not quite.
“He’s a reporter?”
“Not really. He was with the Times a lot of years ago but now he’s TV. He’s Harvey Button’s producer. He’s not pretty enough to go on camera. So they pay him a ton of money to get scoops for Harvey and to tell him what to say and ask. To make him look good. Harvey’s got the face and that voice. Chainey’s got the brains. Why do you ask? Is there something I can do for you?”
“No. I was just wondering.”
“You mean the question about the wallet and the watch? Well, like I said, Chainey’s been around. He’s got sources. More than most.”