“No death penalty and consideration. If everybody goes down, then he’ll probably get fifteen. In the federal system that means he’ll still do thirteen.”

“Who’s his lawyer?”

“He’s got two. Dan Daly and Roger Mills.”

I nodded. He was in good hands. I thought about what Walter Elliot had told me, that the guiltier you were, the more lawyers you needed.

“Pretty good deal for three murders,” I said.

“One murder,” Bosch corrected.

“What do you mean? Vincent, Elliot and Albrecht.”

“He didn’t kill Elliot and Albrecht. Those two didn’t match up.”

“What are you talking about? He killed them and then he tried to kill me.”

Bosch shook his head.

“He did try to kill you but he didn’t kill Elliot and Albrecht. It was a different weapon. On top of that, it didn’t make sense. Why would he ambush them and then try to make you look like a suicide? It doesn’t connect. McSweeney is clean on Elliot and Albrecht.”

I was stunned silent for a long moment. For the last three days I had believed that the man who killed Elliot and Albrecht was the same man who had tried to kill me and that he was safely locked in the hands of the authorities. Now Bosch was telling me there was a second killer somewhere out there.

“Does Beverly Hills have any ideas?” I finally asked.

“Oh, yeah, they’re pretty sure they know who did it. But they’ll never make a case.”

The hits kept coming. One surprise after another.

“Who?”

“The family.”

“You mean like the Family, with a capital F? Organized crime?”

Bosch smiled and shook his head.

“The family of Johan Rilz. They took care of it.”

“How do they know that?”

“Lands and grooves. The bullets they dug out of the two victims were nine-millimeter Parabellums. Brass jacket and casing and manufactured in Germany. BHPD took the bullet profile and matched them to a C-ninety-six Mauser, also manufactured in Germany.”

He paused to see if I had any questions. When I didn’t, he continued.

“Over at BHPD they’re thinking it’s almost like somebody was sending a message.”

“A message from Germany.”

“You got it.”

I thought of Golantz telling the Rilz family how I was going to drag Johan through the mud for a week. They had left rather than witness that. And Elliot was killed before it could happen.

“Parabellum,” I said. “You know your Latin, Detective?”

“Didn’t go to law school. What’s it mean?”

“Prepare for war. It’s part of a saying. ‘If you want peace, prepare for war.’ What will happen with the investigation now?”

Bosch shrugged.