Page 69 of The Crossing


  “How’d they get the gun over here?”

  “It could be done. Through Canada or Der FedEx if it absolutely, positively has to be there on time.”

  I didn’t smile. I was thinking about Elliot and the equilibrium of justice. Somehow Bosch seemed to know what I was thinking.

  “Remember what you said to me when you told me you had told Judge Holder you knew she was behind all of this?”

  I shrugged.

  “What did I say?”

  “You said sometimes justice can’t wait.”

  “And?”

  “And you were right. Sometimes it doesn’t wait. In that trial, you had the momentum and Elliot looked like he was going to walk. So somebody decided not to wait for justice and he delivered his own verdict. Back when I was riding patrol, you know what we called a killing that came down to simple street justice?”

  “What?”

  “The brass verdict.”

  I nodded. I understood. We were both silent for a long moment.

  “Anyway, that’s all I know,” Bosch finally said. “I gotta go and get ready to put people in jail. It’s going to be a good day.”

  Bosch pushed his weight off the railing, ready to go.

  “It’s funny you coming here today,” I said. “Last night I decided I was going to ask you something the next time I saw you.”

  “Yeah, what’s that?”

  I thought about it for a moment and then nodded. It was the right thing to do.

  “Flip sides of the same mountain.… Do you know you look a lot like your father?”

  He said nothing. He just stared at me for a moment, then nodded once and turned to the railing. He cast his gaze out at the city.

  “When did you put that together?” he asked.

  “Technically last night, when I was looking at old photos and scrapbooks with my daughter. But I think on some level I’ve known it for a long time. We were looking at photos of my father. They kept reminding me of somebody and then I realized it was you. Once I saw it, it seemed obvious. I just didn’t see it at first.”

  I walked to the railing and looked out at the city with him.

  “Most of what I know about him came from books,” I said. “A lot of different cases, a lot of different women. But there are a few memories that aren’t in books and are just mine. I remember coming into the office he had set up at home when he started to get sick. There was a painting framed on the wall—a print actually, but back then I thought it was a real painting. The Garden of Earthly Delights. Weird, scary stuff for a little kid…

  “The memory I have is of him holding me on his lap and making me look at the painting and telling me that it wasn’t scary. That it was beautiful. He tried to teach me to say the painter’s name. Hieronymus Bosch. Rhymes with ‘anonymous,’ he told me. Only back then, I don’t think I could say ‘anonymous’ either.”

  I wasn’t seeing the city out there. I was seeing the memory. I was quiet for a while after that. It was my half brother’s turn. Eventually, he leaned his elbows down on the railing and spoke.

  “I remember that house,” he said. “I visited him once. Introduced myself. He was on the bed. He was dying.”

  “What did you say to him?”

  “I just told him I’d made it through. That’s all. There wasn’t really anything else to say.”

  Like right now, I thought. What was there to say? Somehow, my thoughts jumped to my own shattered family. I had little contact with the siblings I knew I had, let alone Bosch. And then there was my daughter, whom I saw only eight days a month. It seemed like the most important things in life were the easiest to break apart.

  “You’ve known all these years,” I finally said. “Why didn’t you ever make contact? I have another half brother and three half sisters. They’re yours, too, you know.”

  Bosch didn’t say anything at first, then he gave an answer I guessed he had been telling himself for a few decades.

  “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want to rock anybody’s boat. Most of the time people don’t like surprises. Not like this.”

  For a moment I wondered what my life would’ve been like if I had known about Bosch. Maybe I would’ve been a cop instead of a lawyer. Who knows?

  “I’m quitting, you know.”

  I wasn’t sure why I had said it.

  “Quitting what?”

  “My job. The law. You could say the brass verdict was my last verdict.”

  “I quit once. It didn’t take. I came back.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Bosch glanced at me and then put his eyes back out on the city. It was a beautiful day with low-flying clouds and a cold-air front that had compressed the smog layer to a thin amber band on the horizon. The sun had just crested the mountains to the east and was throwing light out on the Pacific. We could see all the way out to Catalina.

  “I came to the hospital that time you got shot,” he said. “I wasn’t sure why. I saw it on the news and they said it was a gut shot and I knew those could go either way. I thought maybe if they needed blood or something, I could… I figured we matched, you know? Anyway, there were all these reporters and cameras. I ended up leaving.”

  I smiled and then I started to laugh. I couldn’t help it.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You, a cop, volunteering to give blood to a defense attorney. I don’t think they would’ve let you back into the clubhouse if they knew about that.”

  Now Bosch smiled and nodded.

  “I guess I didn’t think about that.”

  And just like that, both our smiles disappeared and the awkwardness of being strangers returned. Eventually Bosch checked his watch.

  “The warrant teams are meeting in twenty minutes. I gotta roll.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll see you around, Counselor.”

  “I’ll see you around, Detective.”

  He went down the steps and I stayed where I was. I heard his car start up, then pull away and go down the hill.

  Fifty-five

  I stayed out on the deck after that and looked out at the city as the light moved across it. Many different thoughts filtered through my head and flew off into the sky like the clouds up there, remotely beautiful and untouchable. Distant. I was left feeling that I would never see Bosch again. That he would have his side of the mountain and I would have mine and that’s all there would be.

  After a while I heard the door open and steps on the deck. I felt my daughter’s presence by my side and I put my hand on her shoulder.

  “What are you doing, Dad?”

  “Just looking.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “What did that policeman want?”

  “Just to talk. He’s a friend of mine.”

  We were both silent for a moment before she moved on.

  “I wish Mom had stayed with us last night,” she said.

  I looked down at her and squeezed the back of her neck.

  “One thing at a time, Hay,” I said. “We got her to have pancakes with us last night, didn’t we?”

  She thought about it and gave me the nod. She agreed. Pancakes were a start.

  “I’m going to be late if we don’t go,” she said. “One more time and I’ll get a conduct slip.”

  I nodded.

  “Too bad. The sun’s just about to hit the ocean.”

  “Come on, Dad. That happens every day.”

  I nodded.

  “Somewhere, at least.”

  I went in for the keys, then locked up, and we went down the steps to the garage. By the time I backed the Lincoln out and had it pointed down the hill, I could see the sun was spinning gold on the Pacific.

  Acknowledgments

  In no particular order, the author wishes to thank the following individuals for contributions to the research and writing of this story that ranged from small to incredibly selfless and gigantic:

  Daniel Daly, Roger Mills, Dennis Wojciechowski,
Asya Muchnick, Bill Massey, S. John Drexel, Dennis McMillan, Pamela Marshall, Linda Connelly, Jane Davis, Shannon Byrne, Michael Pietsch, John Wilkinson, David Ogden, John Houghton, Michael Krikorian, Michael Roche, Greg Stout, Judith Champagne, Rick Jackson, David Lambkin, Tim Marcia, Juan Rodriguez, and Philip Spitzer.

  This is a work of fiction. Any errors in the law, evidence, and courtroom tactics are wholly those of the author.

  About the Author

  Michael Connelly is the author of twenty-eight previous novels, including the #1 New York Times bestsellers The Gods of Guilt and The Black Box. His books, which include the bestselling Harry Bosch series and Lincoln Lawyer series, have sold more than fifty-eight million copies worldwide. Connelly is a former newspaper reporter who has won numerous awards for his journalism and his novels and is the executive producer of the television series Bosch, starring Titus Welliver. He spends his time in California and Florida.

  Books by Michael Connelly

  Featuring Harry Bosch

  The Black Echo

  The Black Ice

  The Concrete Blonde

  The Last Coyote

  Trunk Music

  Angels Flight

  A Darkness More Than Night

  City of Bones

  Lost Light

  The Narrows

  The Closers

  Echo Park

  The Overlook

  Nine Dragons

  The Drop

  The Black Box

  The Burning Room

  Featuring Mickey Haller

  The Lincoln Lawyer

  The Fifth Witness

  Featuring Harry Bosch and Mickey Haller

  The Brass Verdict

  The Reversal

  The Gods of Guilt

  Featuring Jack McEvoy

  The Poet

  The Scarecrow

  Other Novels

  Blood Work

  Void Moon

  Chasing the Dime

  Anthologies

  Mystery Writers of America Presents The Blue Religion: New Stories about Cops, Criminals, and the Chase (editor)

  Nonfiction

  Crime Beat: A Decade of Covering Cops and Killers

  Short Stories

  Suicide Run: Three Harry Bosch Stories (ebook only)

  Angle of Investigation: Three Harry Bosch Stories (ebook only)

  Mulholland Dive: Three Stories (ebook only)

  The Safe Man: A Ghost Story (ebook only)

  Switchblade (ebook only)

  Thank you for buying this ebook, published by Hachette Digital.

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  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Welcome

  Dedication

  April Fools’ Day

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Acknowledgments

  BONUS BOOK: The Brass Verdict

  Dedication

  Part One—Rope a Dope

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Part Two—Suitcase City

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Part Three—To Speak the Truth

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Part Four—Fillet of Soul

  Walking in a Dead Man’s Shoes

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-one

  Chapter Forty-two

  Chapter Forty-three

  Chapter Forty-four

  Chapter Forty-five

  Chapter Forty-six

  Part Five—Take the Nickel

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Chapter Forty-nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-one

  Chapter Fifty-two

  Chapter Fifty-three

  Part Six—The Last Verdict

  Chapter Fifty-four

  Chapter Fifty-five

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Books by Michael Connelly

  Newsletters

  Copyright

  Copyright

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  The Crossing copyright © 2015 by Hieronymus, Inc.

  The Crossing cover design by Mario J. Pulice; cover photograph by Ron Koeberer/Getty Images; cover copyright © 2015 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  The Brass Verdict copyright © 2008 by Hieronymus, Inc.

  The Brass Verdict cover design by Allison J. Warner; cover photograph by Corbis; cover copyright © 2009 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  Author photograph by Mark DeLong Photography

  All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected] Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  Little, Brown and Company

  Hachette Book Group

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  New York, NY 10104

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  First ebook edition of The Crossing: November 2015

  First ebook edition of The Brass Verdict: October 2008

  Little, Brown and Company is a division of Hachette Book Group, Inc. The Little, Brown name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.

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  ISBN 978-0-316-22589-2

  E3

 


 

  Michael Connelly, The Crossing

 


 

 
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