Bosch gave up-for the moment.

“I’m going up to Sepulveda,” he said. “Are you coming, or are you going back to your open house?”

“I’ll do my job, Harry,” Edgar said softly. “Just because we don’t agree on something doesn’t mean I’m not gonna do what I’m paid to do. It’s never been that way, never will be. But if you don’t like the way I do business, we’ll go see Ninety-eight tomorrow morning and see about a switch.”

Bosch was immediately sorry for the cheap shot, but didn’t say so. He said, “Okay. You go on up there, see if anybody’s home. I’ll meet you after I sign off on the scene.”

Edgar walked over to the pipe and took one of the Polaroid photos of Meadows. He slipped it into his coat pocket, then walked down the access road toward his car without saying another word to Bosch.

***

After Bosch took off his jumpsuit and folded it away in the trunk of his car, he watched Sakai and Osito slide the body roughly onto a stretcher and then into the back of a blue van. He started over, thinking about what would be the best way to get the autopsy done as a priority, meaning by at least the next day instead of four or five days later. He caught up with the coroner’s tech as he was opening the driver’s door.

“We’re outta here, Bosch.”

Bosch put his hand on the door, holding it from opening enough for Sakai to climb in.

“Who’s doing the cutting today?”

“On this one? Nobody.”

“Come on, Sakai. Who’s on?”

“Sally. But he’s not going near this one, Bosch.”

“Look, I just went through this with my partner. Not you, too, okay?”