Angel to some, devil to others, Howard Elias was now dead, shot to death on the Angels Flight railroad. Bosch knew as he looked through the small room’s window and watched the orange glow of the laser beam move about the darkened train car that he was in the calm before the storm. In just two days what might have been Elias’s biggest case was due to begin. The lawsuit against the LAPD that had become known in the media as the “Black Warrior” case was set for jury selection in U.S. District Court on Monday morning. The coincidence – or, as a wide swath of the public would undoubtedly believe, the lack of coincidence – between Elias’s murder and the start of the trial would make the investigation of the attorney’s death an easy seven on the media’s Richter scale. Minority groups would howl with rage and rightful suspicion. The whites in the West Side would whisper about their fears of another riot. And the eyes of the nation would be on Los Angeles and its police department once more. Bosch at that moment agreed with Edgar, though for different reasons than his black partner’s. He wished they could take a pass on this one.

“Chief,” he said, turning his focus back to Irving, “when it gets out who… I mean, when the media find out it was Elias, we’re going to – ”

“That is not your concern,” Irving said. “Your concern is the investigation. The chief and I will deal with the media. Not a word comes from anyone on the investigation. Not a word.”

“Forget the media,” Rider said. “What about South Central? People are going to – ”

“That will be handled,” Irving said, interrupting. “The department will institute the public disorder readiness plan beginning with the next watch. All personnel shift to twelve and twelves until we see how the city reacts. Nobody who saw nineteen ninety-two wants to see that again. But again, that is not your concern. You have one concern here.”