“This wasn’t the first wellness check on you, Harry. They came in last night. You were gone but your wallet was in the drawer, and there was an envelope with my name on it on the desk. Bread crumbs.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do.”

“There’s no note, Renée.”

She was silent and Bosch knew that she had figured out everything.

“Then I guess that means you did find him. What happened?”

Bosch looked back out at the water.

“Let’s just say the case is closed,” he said. “And leave it at that.”

“Harry,” Ballard said. “What did you do?”

“It’s closed. That’s all you need to know. Sometimes …”

“Sometimes what?”

“Sometimes you do the wrong thing for the right reason. And this was that time and this was that case.”

“Oh, Harry …”

Bosch read her disappointment and anguish all in the way she said his name. He still couldn’t turn to face her.

“Would it help you to know I had no choice?” he asked.

“No, not really,” Ballard said. “Whatever happened, however it happened, you put it in play.”

Bosch nodded. He knew that was true.

“Can we just talk about something else?” he said.

“Like what?” Ballard said. “Like about your little blue pills?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The knockoff fentanyl I found in the drawer at your house. That your daughter also found.”

Bosch turned away from the view and looked at her.

“You were in my house?”

“You were missing in action. I was worried. So was Maddie. She found the pills and the note you left for her.”

“Shit, that’s been in there for a long time. Months.”

“Well, she read it and is understandably upset. Add in the pills, and it’s a goodbye note. What’s going on with you, Harry?”

“I’ll talk to Maddie. She wasn’t supposed to find that note for at least a few months.”

“What does that mean?”

Bosch moved over and sat down on the end of the bed.

“Your empath, Colleen? She was right.”

“What are you talking about?”

“About the dark aura she thought at first was coming from me.”

“Tell me what that means.”

“I told you about that case I had, where I found the missing cesium.”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, well, it’s come back around. The pills they were giving me only delayed things. It’s in the marrow now.”

There was a long pause before Ballard reacted.

“I’m sorry, Harry. Are they still treating you?”

“I’ve had some radiation, yeah.”

“What is the prognosis? How long before—”

“I haven’t asked, because I don’t want to know. I keep those pills in the drawer for when it’s time for the end of watch.”

“Harry, you can’t do that. Maddie doesn’t know any of this?”

“No, and I didn’t want her to.”