Angels Flight

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Authors: Michael Connelly
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fax him the office search warrant. He would now have to do it again.
    “Welcome to homicide,” Bosch said as he clicked off.
    “What?” Chastain said.
    “Nothing. Just bullshit.”
    Bosch punched in Irving’s number. The deputy chief answered after one ring, giving his full name and rank. It seemed odd to Bosch that Irving seemed fully alert, as if he had not been asleep.
    “Chief, it’s Bosch. You said to call if — ”
    “No problem, Detective. What is it?”
    “We just made notification. To Elias’s wife and son. Uh, she wanted me to call her minister.”
    “I do not see the problem.”
    “The minister is Preston Tuggins and I thought maybe somebody a little further up the ladder might be better making — ”
    “I understand. It was good thinking. I will have it taken care of. I think perhaps the chief will want to handle that. I was just about to call him anyway. Anything else?”
    “Not at this time.”
    “Thank you, Detective.”
    Irving hung up. Chastain asked what he said and Bosch told him.
    “This case . . . ,” Chastain said. “I have a feeling things are going to get hairy.”
    “Say that again.”
    Chastain was about to say something else but Bosch’s pager sounded. He checked the number. Again it wasn’t a call from home but Grace Billets’s second page. He had forgotten to call her earlier. He called now and the lieutenant answered after one ring.
    “I wondered if you were going to call me back.”
    “Sorry. I sort of got tied up, then I forgot.”
    “So what’s going on? Irving wouldn’t tell me who was dead, just that RHD and Central couldn’t handle it.”
    “Howard Elias.”
    “Oh, shit . . . Harry . . . I’m sorry it’s you.”
    “It’s okay. We’ll make out.”
    “Everybody will be watching you. And if it’s a cop . . . it’s a no-win situation. Do you get any sense from Irving, does he want to go at it balls to the wall?”
    “Mixed signals.”
    “You can’t talk freely?”
    “Right.”
    “Well, I’m getting mixed signals here, too. Irving told me to take your team off the rotation but he said it would only be until Friday. Then I’m supposed to talk to him about it. Now that I know who is dead, I think the translation of that is that you have till then before he probably ships you back to Hollywood and you have to take Howard Elias back here with you and work it when you can.”
    Bosch nodded but didn’t say anything. It went with the other moves Irving had made. The deputy chief had created a large team to work the case, but it looked as though he was only giving them a week to work it full-time. Maybe he hoped that the media glare would drop off to a more manageable level by then and the case could eventually disappear into the unsolved files. But Bosch thought Irving was kidding himself if he thought that.
    He and Billets talked for a few minutes more before Billets finally signed off with a warning.
    “Watch yourself, Harry. If a cop did this, one of those RHD guys . . .”
    “What?”
    “Just be careful.”
    “I will.”
    He closed the phone and looked out the windshield. They were almost to the 110 transition. They would be back at California Plaza soon.
    “Your lieutenant?” Chastain asked.
    “Yeah. She just wanted to know what was going on.”
    “So what’s the deal with her and Rider? They still munching each other’s pie on the side?”
    “It’s none of my business, Chastain. And none of yours.”
    “Just asking.”
    They rode in silence for a while. Bosch was annoyed by Chastain’s question. He knew it was the IAD detective’s way of reminding Bosch that he knew secrets, that he might be out of his element when it came to straight homicide investigation but he knew secrets about cops and should not be taken lightly. Bosch wished he hadn’t made the call to Billets while Chastain was in the car.
    Chastain seemed to sense his misstep and broke the silence by trying some harmless banter.
    “Tell me about this hard-boiled eggs caper

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