Angels Flight

curiosity about the case.
    “All right, then,” Irving said, turning around and facing the three detectives. “I am sorry to roust you people, especially out of rotation. However, I have spoken with Lieutenant Billets and as of now you have been cut free of the Hollywood rotation until we get this handled.”
    “What exactly is this that we are handling?” Bosch asked.
    “A delicate situation. The homicides of two citizens.”
    Bosch wished he would get to the point.
    “Chief, I see enough RHD people around here to investigate the Bobby Kennedy case all over again,” he said, glancing at Garwood. “And that’s not to mention the IAD shines hovering around the edges. What exactly are we doing here? What do you want?”
    “Simple,” Irving said. “I am turning the investigation over to you. It is your case now, Detective Bosch. The Robbery-Homicide detectives will be withdrawing as soon as you people are brought up to speed. As you can see, you are coming in late. That’s unfortunate but I think you will be able to overcome it. I know what you can do.”
    Bosch stared at him blankly for a long moment, then glanced at Garwood again. The captain had not moved and continued to stare at the floor. Bosch asked the only question that could bring understanding to this strange situation.
    “That man and woman on the train car, who are they?”
    Irving nodded.
    “Were is probably the more correct word. Were. The woman’s name was Catalina Perez. Who exactly she was and what she was doing on Angels Flight we do not know yet. It probably does not matter. It appears that she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But that will be for you to officially determine. Anyway, the man in there, he is different. That was Howard Elias.”
    “The lawyer?”
    Irving nodded. Bosch heard Edgar draw in a breath and hold it.
    “This is for real?”
    “Unfortunately.”
    Bosch looked past Irving and through the ticket window. He could see into the train car. The techs were still at work, getting ready to shut off the lights so they could laser the inside of the car to look for fingerprints. His eyes fell to the hand with the bullet wound through it. Howard Elias. Bosch thought about all the suspects there would be, many of them standing around outside at that very moment, watching.
    “Shit,” Edgar said. “Don’t suppose we could take a pass on this one, could we, Chief?”
    “Watch your language, Detective,” Irving snapped, the muscles of his jaw bulging as he grew angry. “That is not acceptable here.”
    “Look, Chief, all I’m sayin’ is if you’re looking for somebody to play department Uncle Tom, it ain’t going to be – ”
    “That has nothing to do with this,” Irving said, cutting him off. “Whether you like it or not, you have been assigned to this case. I expect each of you to do it professionally and thoroughly. Most of all, I expect results, as does the chief of police. Other matters mean nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
    After a brief silence, during which Irving’s eyes went from Edgar to Rider and then to Bosch, the deputy chief continued.
    “In this department there is only one race,” he said. “Not black or white. Just the blue race.”

Chapter 3
    HOWARD Elias’s notoriety as a civil rights attorney did not come to him because of the clients he served – they could best be described as ne’er-do-wells if not outright criminals. What had made Elias’s face and name so well known to the masses of Los Angeles was his use of the media, his skill at probing the inflamed nerve of racism in the city, and the fact that his law practice was built entirely around one particular expertise: suing the Los Angeles Police Department.
    For nearly two decades he had made a more than comfortable living filing lawsuit after lawsuit in federal court on behalf of citizens who had collided in some way with the police department. Elias sued patrol officers, detectives, the chief of police, the institution itself. When he filed, he used the shotgun approach, naming as defendants anyone remotely connected with the incident at the heart of the matter. After a fleeing burglary suspect was chewed up by a police dog, Elias had sued on the injured man’s behalf, naming the dog, its handler and the line of supervision from the handler up to the chief of police. For good measure, he had sued the handler’s academy instructors and the dog’s breeder as well.
    In his late-night television