The Drop by Michael Connelly Read Free Book Online Page A

The guy comes out on the balcony to get some fresh air or something and goes right over the balcony. Do you know that Jim Morrison, that guy from the Doors, fell off a balcony there like that in nineteen seventy?”
    “That’s great. What about a little more recently, Chu? Are you saying they have a—”
    “No, there’s no history there. I’m just saying . . . you know.”
    “No, I don’t know. What are you saying?”
    “I’m saying that if we have to make this an accident so the chief and the powers that be are happy, then there’s our way to it.”
    They had just crested the mountain and crossed Mulholland. They were now dropping down into Studio City, where George Irving had lived with his family. At the next street, Bosch jerked the wheel and pulled into Dona Pegita and stopped. He slammed the car into park and turned in his seat to confront his partner.
    “What gave you the idea that we’re looking to appease the powers that be?”
    Chu immediately became flustered.
    “Well . . . I don’t . . . I’m just saying if we want—look, Harry, I’m not saying what happened. It’s just a possibility.”
    “Possibility, my ass. He either checked in because he wanted to check out, or somebody drew him there, knocked him out and then dropped him. There was no accident and I’m not looking for anything but what really happened. If this guy offed himself, then he offed himself and the councilman has to live with it.”
    “Okay, Harry.”
    “I don’t want to hear about the Loire Valley or the Doors or anything else that is a distraction. There’s a good chance it wasn’t this guy’s idea to end up on the sidewalk at the Chateau Marmont. Right now it could go either way. And all politics aside, I’m going to find out.”
    “I hear you, Harry. I didn’t mean anything, okay? I was just trying to help. Casting a big net. Remember, you told me that’s how it’s done.”
    “Sure.”
    Bosch turned forward again and dropped the car into drive. He made a U-turn and headed back to Laurel Canyon Boulevard. Chu desperately tried to change the subject.
    “Was there anything on the call logs worth looking at?”
    “No calls coming in. Irving called down to the garage about midnight and that was it.”
    “What was that about?”
    “We have to talk to the midnight man—he got out of there before we could hold him. They keep a log in the office down there and it says Irving called to ask him to see if he left his phone in his car. We found the phone in the safe, so either Irving was mistaken or the phone was left in the car and brought up to his room.”
    They were silent for a moment as they considered the call to the garage. Finally, Chu spoke.
    “Did you check out the car?”
    “I did. There was nothing there.”
    “Damn. I guess that would have made it easier, if there had been a note or something.”
    “Yeah. But there wasn’t.”
    “Too bad.”
    “Yeah, too bad.”
    They rode the rest of the way to George Irving’s home in silence.
    When they got to the address that was on their victim’s driver’s license, Bosch saw a familiar Lincoln Town Car parked at the curb. The same two men were in the front. It meant Councilman Irving was on the premises. Bosch got ready for another face-to-face with the enemy.

7

    C ouncilman Irving answered the door of his son’s home. He opened it just as wide as his own body, and it was clear before he said anything that he did not want to allow Bosch and Chu admittance.
    “Councilman,” Bosch said, “we’d like to ask your son’s wife a few questions.”
    “Deborah’s taken this very hard, Detective. It would be better if you could come back at another time.”
    Bosch looked around on the doorstep, even glanced behind him and down at Chu on the lower step, before turning back to Irving and answering.
    “We’re conducting an investigation, Councilman. Her interview is important and we can’t put it off.”
    They stared at each other, neither yielding.
    “You