PattyMacDotComma's Reviews > The Last Coyote

5★
“The reports were sloppily written, perfunctory, and filled with careless misspellings. In reading them, it was clear to Bosch that Eno and McKittrick did not invest much time in the case. A prostitute was dead. It was a risk that came with her job. They had other fish to fry.
. . .

‘Hieronymus Bosch (Harry), son, age 11, Father unknown. Son remains in custody pending foster placement.’

. . .
The irony was not lost on him even after so many years. The boy had been taken from a presumably unfit mother and placed in an equally unfit system of child protection.”

LAPD Homicide Detective Harry Bosch is asked by a therapist why he is so interested in the death of a prostitute. But first, why is he at a therapist? He’s an experienced detective, good at this work, a drinker, a chain-smoker, and an honest (mostly) man. So how did he end up in her office?

Life has thrown more at him than usual. The woman he’d considered marrying left him, sending the occasional cheery postcard from Europe, and then LA suffered its worst earthquake ever. He wants to save his damaged house, but it’s been condemned.

So it’s little wonder he snapped when provoked and caused a violent incident at work. Time for an enforced leave, some deep and meaningfuls with the service’s therapist, and take stock.

“She cleared her throat before speaking sternly.

‘You have a problem, Detective Bosch. And it goes far beyond the incident that resulted in your being placed on leave. That’s what these sessions are going to be all about. Do you understand? This incident is not unique. You have had problems before. What I am trying to do, what I have to do before I can sign off on your return to duty in any capacity, is get you to take a look at yourself.’”

Later she asks what’s so special about the case that it pushed him over the edge into violence.

“‘You mean why did I care about a prostitute? I didn’t. Not more than any other victim. 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.’

‘Explain it.’

‘Just what I said. Everybody counts or nobody counts. That’s it. It means I bust my ass to make a case whether it’s a prostitute or the mayor’s wife. That’s my rule.’”

At last, after nearly thirty-five years, when he’s ‘on leave’, he determines to face whatever evidence he can gather and find his mother’s killer. She was somebody – she was everybody to young Harry – and nobody counted her. Everything was pushed aside, and forgotten.

This is such a personal story for Harry that it is impossible not to feel how important this is for him. It’s a plan and a goal. It becomes an obsession, and all I will say about it is that I was absolutely absorbed in how he tracked and dealt with the crooks and crooked cops.

Connelly writes more than a mystery – he writes a life, and Bosch’s life is full of interesting and complicated characters and connections and locations. I enjoy the descriptions.

A girl Harry sees in a bar, who is singing along with the band:

“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 would let her get away.”

A woman who works in City Hall and has kept Harry waiting:

“ An obese woman with pale skin and black hair, sideburns and the slight hint of a mustache sat behind one of the desks.
. . .
She then pursed her lips, which served to change her mustache from a hint to an announcement, and took a hard pull on the straw of her soda container.”

An area on the edge of Las Vegas.

“The streets had been gridded and paved long ago but the boomtown of Las Vegas hadn’t quite caught up yet. It was coming, though. The city was spreading like a patch of weeds.”

This was written in 1995, just after the 1994 earthquake, so the details were current as written. It’s not “historical fiction” – it was contemporary. Harry carries “a portable”, which is his cell or mobile phone. No internet, but there is DNA testing.

This series is getting better with each book. I know that’s not news to anyone, but I still felt the need to add my two cents. On to the next one!

Reviews of the previous books:

(#1) My review of The Black Echo

(#2) My review of The Black Ice

(#3) My review of The Concrete Blonde