There was a note of sarcasm in the way he said the last word. Bosch ignored it.

“The people you chased, you get any names?”

“No, like I told you, I chased them, then noticed that nobody got in and drove away in the Rolls. It was too late by then.”

“What about last night?”

“What about it?”

“Did you make it by here?”

“I was off. I’m on Tuesday-Saturday but I switched with a buddy last night ’cause he had something to do tonight.”

“So then what about Friday night?”

He shook his head.

“Three watch is always busy Friday. I had no time for free cruising and we didn’t get a complaint as far as I know…so I never made it by.”

“Just chasin’ the radio?”

“I had calls backed up on me all night. I didn’t even get a ten-seven.”

“No dinner break, that’s dedication, Powers.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Bosch saw he had made a mistake. Powers was consumed by job frustrations and he had pushed him too far. Powers turned crimson again and slowly took off his Ray-Bans before speaking.

“Let me tell you something, big shot. You got in while the getting was good. The rest of us? We get shit. We-I’ve been trying for so many years I can’t count to get a gold shield and I’ve got about as much chance of getting one as whoever’s in the trunk of that Rolls-Royce. But I’m not laying down. I’m still out here five nights a week chasin’ the radio. Says ‘Protect and Serve’ on the car door and I’m doin’ it, man. So don’t give me any shit about dedication.”

Bosch hesitated until he was sure Powers was done.

“Look, Powers, I didn’t mean to give you shit. Okay? You want a cigarette?”

“I don’t smoke.”

“Okay, let’s try this again.” He waited a beat while Powers put the mirrors back on his eyes and seemed to calm down. “You always work alone?”

“I’m the Z car.”