At the foot of Angels Flight, an inclined railway in the heart of downtown Los
Angeles, a lawyer is found murdered on the eve of a landmark trial. Howard Elias's
lawsuits charging the LAPD with racism and brutality made him a celebrity-even as his
success earned him the hatred of nearly every police officer in the city. When Harry Bosch
is put in charge of the team investigating Elias's murder, he knows that his colleagues
are likely to be his chief suspects. He also knows that the city's smoldering racial
tensions could ignite if he missteps.
As he works night and day in the glare of a major media event, Bosch struggles with a more personally urgent mystery: trying to find out whether his wife's disappearance means she has left him for good or fallen deeper into a dangerous addiction. Bosch's sadness about his failing marriage shadows his work, leaving him doubly exhausted as the investigation is stymied by internal sabotage. As leads emerge-taking Bosch into Elias's private life, into S&M parlors and dark corners of the Internet, and into confrontation with some of L.A.'s most violent cops-the city nears the point of explosion. On streets filled with angry mobs, amid burning buildings and under fire from rooftop snipers, Bosch must find the one answer that will make sense of the case's strangely unconnected pieces-exposing himself to grave danger in the hope of saving his job, his marriage, and his city.
The word sounded alien in his mouth, as if spoken by someone else. There was an urgency
in his own voice that Bosch didn't recognize. The simple hello he had whispered into the
telephone was full of hope, almost desperation. But the voice that came back to him was
not the one he needed to hear.
For a moment Bosch felt foolish. He wondered if the caller had recognized the faltering of his voice.
"This is Lieutenant Michael Tulin. Is this Bosch?"
The name meant nothing to Bosch and his momentary concern about how he sounded was ripped away as an awful dread stole quickly into his mind.
"This is Bosch. What is it? What's wrong?"
"Hold please for Deputy Chief Irving."
The caller clicked off and there was only silence. Bosch remembered who Tulin was now--Irving's adjutant. Bosch stood still and waited. He looked around the kitchen, only the dim oven light on. With one hand he ...
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