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But in homicide there is one rule that I have when it comes to the cases I get.” “What is that rule?” “Everybody counts or nobody counts.”
Going to BSS sessions was more often referred to as “going to Chinatown” because of the unit’s location there on
Hill Street, several blocks from Parker Center. If it became known about a cop that he was going there, the word would spread that he had the Hill Street blues.
I see trees of green Red roses, too I see them bloom For me and you And I think to myself What a wonderful world
Her absence had fractured the sense of continuity in his life.
I see skies of blue And clouds of white The bright blessed day The dark sacred night And I think to myself What a wonderful world
She had what other cops called a getaway face. So
beautiful it would always be a shield. No matter what she did or what was done to her, her face would be her ticket.
It would open doors in front of her, close them behind her. It wo...
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The animal was thin and ragged, worn by the struggle to sustain itself in the urban hills.
His skin was as pale as a recycled paper plate.
retirees that most cops referred to collectively
as members of the Nod Squad.
We’ve even got a name for what’s going on here. The blue angst. And you have it, Harry.”
He gave her the names and she got up angrily and silently to leave the room. She could barely fit around the desk but made the maneuver like a
ballerina, the pattern instilled
in her body’s memory by repeat...
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After she left he got up and went around the side of the desk. He pushed it about two inches closer to the opposite wall, narrowing her path back to her chair.
She started around the desk and immediately rammed her thick thigh into its Formica-topped corner. It looked more embarrassing than painful. She had to flail her arms for balance and the impact of the collision shook the desk and knocked her container over. The red liquid began leaking out of the straw onto the blotter.
Best laugh I've had since Twila stopped coming by...!!
“Shit!”
“Everybody wants the chance to do the right thing, Hirsch. It makes them feel good inside. Even if doing it doesn’t exactly fit inside the rules, sometimes you have to rely on the voice inside that tells you what to do.”
After all, he came from postquake Los Angeles, where the unofficial speed limit under bridges and overpasses was on the far right side of the speedometer.
She moved as if she were underwater and Bosch wanted to reach over the counter and punch in the numbers himself, just to get it going.
“No. I mean like we lived—we were lovers and when she wanted to go, I didn’t really… do anything. I didn’t put up a fight, you know. And when I think about it, sometimes I think that maybe if I had, I could’ve
changed her mind… I don’t know.” “Did she say why she was leaving?” “She just got to know me too well. I don’t blame her for anything. I’ve got baggage. I guess maybe I can be hard to take. I’ve lived alone most of my life.”
He propped himself up on one elbow and looked at her. “Sometimes I think that I know strangers better than I know anybody else, even myself. I learn so much about people in my job. Sometimes I think I don’t even have a life. I only have their life… I don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“I think, young man, that you only run into a person that is a perfect fit once in your life. When you find the one that you think fits, then grab on for dear life. And it’s no matter what she’s done in the past. None of that matters. Only the holding on matters.”
She had taken the blue canoe. Suicide.
