Michael Connelly

Michael Connelly “Interviews” Harry Bosch (2005)

The following interview between Michael Connelly and Harry Bosch took place on March 25, 2005 in a Hollywood Boulevard cyber café called the Frontal Lobe. As is Bosch’s usual practice, he insisted that the interview be taped, transcribed and presented without editing.

3/25/05 1:21 p.m.

Connelly: Okay, we’re recording.

Bosch: This is the same place you interviewed me in last time, isn’t it?

Connelly: Yeah, I think so. About three years ago. Why? You don’t like it?

Bosch: I don’t know. All these computers . . . sort of makes me feel like General Custer at the last stand or something.

Connelly: Surrounded by the enemy, huh?

Bosch: It’s just not my style, I guess.

Connelly: Well, we don’t have to do it here. You want to go to Musso’s? We could walk over there.

Bosch: No, you don’t go to Musso’s for coffee. And it’s too early for a martini.

Connelly: Especially now that you are back on the force. You have that responsibility that comes with carrying a badge again.

Bosch: Something like that.

Connelly: That’s what I wanted to get into. You left the department three years ago — in fact, that’s what we talked about last time. But now you are back. How and why?

Bosch: The how is the easy part. The department has a policy of hiring detectives back if it is within three years of retirement. I was sort of reminded of it at the right moment and I applied for reinstatement. Here I am.

Connelly: And the why?

Bosch: That’s a little complicated and hard to put into words.

Connelly: I heard that you told your partner that you started limping and you realized you were out of balance because you weren’t used to walking without a gun on your hip.

Bosch: I did say that but that was probably because I couldn’t put the answer in to the right words.

Connelly: What about now?

Bosch: Well, if you start with the belief that I have a certain talent and purpose in this life, then you see that by going back to the department I put myself in a position to make the best of both. What I am saying is that I made a mistake when I retired. I left Hollywood Division after a particularly difficult and frustrating case. I walked out with a box of files from open cases and I thought I would spend the rest of my days working on them and I would be satisfied.

Connelly: I think I understand. Did you—

Bosch: Actually, satisfied is the wrong word. Did you ever see that move Ride the High Country? It’s one of Peckinpah’s first flicks — I mean I think it was — and anyway at one point the main character says that all he wanted out of life was to be able to come home justified. That’s not the direct quote. I can’t remember the direct quote. But that’s what he was saying. At the end of the day, he wanted to walk through the front door justified.

Connelly: So what you are saying is that you want to be justified . . .

Bosch: Yeah, every man and woman wants to be justified in how they live and what they do and in what they believe. And I wasn’t feeling that anymore. I solved a few of those cases I took home with me when I walked out but I didn’t feel justified in what I was doing. You see, I told you, it’s hard to explain.

Connelly: Justified . . .

Bosch: Yeah . . .

Connelly: When did you see this movie?

Bosch: Oh, way back. That was the Sanctuary.

Connelly: Sanctuary? What is that?

Bosch: It was a military hospital boat. I was on it in the South China Sea. This is like thirty-five years ago. I got wounded in a tunnel in Cu Chi and I was on the Sanctuary for about three weeks recovering. They showed movies almost every night out on the deck. They’d put up a screen and turn on the projector. It was mostly stuff that was a few years old, at least. And that’s when I saw Ride the High Country. That line about being justified, a lot of us on that boat took it to heart.

Connelly: So your life is about being justified and that’s what brought you back to the force.

Bosch: My life is about a lot of things, just like with anybody else. But I found that when I quit the force and was working cases on my own that I was still missing something.

Connelly: Well, you said that you solved a few cases while you were retired. Didn’t you feel justified in that?

Bosch: I did but it wasn’t the same. I felt like I was doing it for myself, like I was putting myself ahead of the mission.

Connelly: I don’t understand.

Bosch: That’s what I am telling you. It is hard to understand. I’m not sure I understand it myself. All I know is that I was working cases without a badge and it somehow seemed selfish. I was being self-indulgent. I felt like the boy who takes his football home with him because he’s not getting enough passes. He takes the ball home with him and it ruins the game for everybody. Working cases from home wasn’t the best use of my…

Connelly: Skills?

Bosch: Sort of, but I’m not sure what the word is.

Connelly: Talent?

Bosch: No, not that.

Connelly: Your purpose?

Bosch: Yeah, that comes closest. My purpose. I know I have a purpose or a mission — and I know that sounds weird to say out loud. In fact, I don’t think I ever have before. But I have thought about it. Thought about it a lot. I have a mission in this life. A purpose. And I realized that I wasn’t serving that purpose by chucking the badge and going home with my box of files. If I was going to honor the purpose and continue the mission, I had to get back inside. And just as I was thinking about all of this a perfect opportunity came up.

Connelly: Which was the Open-Unsolved Unit?

Bosch: Exactly. There was a slot in OU and once I got there I knew I was in the right place at the right time.

Connelly: Tell me about the unit.

Bosch: We’re the closers. We close the cases nobody has been able to. The police chief and the guy who runs the unit think it’s the most important place to be in the department. Because it’s the place where we don’t forget. A city that forgets its victims isn’t a city anymore. It’s a place that’s lost. That’s what they say.

Connelly: And you believe it?

Bosch: I do.

Connelly: Well, what makes the people on this squad so special?

Bosch: Nothing other than that we all recognize the mission. But the secret to our success is not that. It’s usually science. We use forensic techniques not available back in the day that these crimes were committed and investigated.

Connelly: So it’s that techniques and technology have improved. It’s not that you are making up for incompetence in previous investigations.

Bosch: I am not going to get into criticizing former or fellow detectives. Besides, coming back as a retread I am on one year’s probation. The Chief can fire me without cause during probation. I don’t want to say something in an interview that might make him exercise that option.

Connelly: Did you just say ‘retread’?”

Bosch: That’s what they call the detectives that come back after retirement.

Connelly: That’s really endearing, isn’t it. They must love you guys.

Bosch: I never thought of it that way.

Connelly: Okay. Let’s talk about the investigations. They must be different than conducting the investigation of a contemporary murder. You know, something that is brand new.

Bosch: We call them fresh kills. And in Open-Unsolved we work old kills. Cold cases, as they used to be called, before the Chief said he didn’t like that term because cases should never go cold in the LAPD.

Connelly: Sounds like a good public relations stunt. You don’t like something, just rename it so it doesn’t offend you anymore.

Bosch: No comment.

Connelly: Right, you’re on probation.

Bosch: You got it.

Connelly: So how are the cases different?

Bosch: Well, two things really. One is you are dealing with cold trails — places and people who have changed over time. People move on. Crimes scenes get paved over. So you really have to dig harder. And the people involved are different, too. With a fresh kill you are taking and breaking the news to the family. With an old case you are seeing the long term effects that an untimely and usually violent death has on individuals and families. I’m still new at it but I think that aspect will be the single toughest burden to carry. I can tell that I get attached to these cases much more that anything before.

Connelly: So do you think you are going to stick around this time?

Bosch: As long as they’ll let me.

Connelly: And how do you feel at the end of the day when you come in through your front door?

Bosch: Like I’m riding the high country.

Connelly: Are you justified?

Bosch: Yes, I am justified.

Connelly: Good. I’m glad. And I think that’s it for now. I’ll turn the tape off. See you next ti—
End of tape.

Print these questions and use them to lead a discussion about The Closers. Spoiler Warning! This guide does address the entire book.

1. Welcome Back Roy
In Michael Connelly’s novel, The Closers, Harry Bosch rejoins the ranks of the LAPD after three years in retirement. Harry has a hard time suppressing his excitement at being back. At one point, he says to his partner, Kizmin Rider, “The point is I need the gun. I need the badge. Otherwise I’m out of balance. I need all of this.”  Why do you think Harry needs to be a cop?

2. The Oldest Living Boot
The new chief of police welcomes Harry back but at the same time he warns him that he is on probation. Harry can’t screw up or he’ll be out. Later, Harry has a run in with an old adversary, Deputy Chief Irvin Irving, who also welcomes him back with a warning, calling him “a retread.” So Harry has to prove himself all over again while watching his back. What do you think Harry’s reputation is within the LAPD? What does Irving think of Harry?

3. Forget Closure
Harry’s new boss, Abel Pratt, warns him that closing cases is not the same thing as closure. He warns that there is no such thing as closure—that all the police can do is provide answers. Do you agree with that? Can there ever be closure for the victims of crime? Is justice the same thing as closure? How about revenge?

4. The Ripples
The Closers focuses on the toll of violence over time. What effect did Becky Verloren’s murder have on her mother and father? Can you think of other examples from the book that show the ripples of crime?

5. High Jingo
Throughout the book, Kizmin Rider fears that Harry’s actions will somehow backfire and hurt the chief. Do you think Kiz was dedicated to solving the case or more concerned about helping the chief? In the end, Harry thinks he was set up by the chief to bring Irving down. Is Kiz implicated in that?

6. The City Of Angels
“It was a city full of haves and have nots, movie stars and extras, drivers and the driven, predators and prey.”  Michael Connelly’s novels are, in a way, a love letter to Los Angeles. They describe the good and the bad, the highs and the lows, of this “destination city.”  How does he reflect that in Harry Bosch’s take on the city?

7. A Black Hole
Think about Robert Verloren’s actions at the end of the book. Do the terms justice, satisfaction, or closure apply in any way? Why do you think Harry felt guilty about Robert Verloren?

8. One Coming, One Going
Do you think Irving will just walk away? How can he get back at Harry and the chief?

9. Red Herrings
A red herring is defined as something that draws attention away from the central issue. In crime fiction, a red herring is often put there to fool or distract you.  Were you fooled by anything in The Closers? Were you surprised by the killer’s identity?

The Closers audiobook by Hachette Audio is read by narrator Len Cariou. It is available in CD and in downloadable formats, in both unabridged and abridged editions, in the USA and Canada.

Listen to an excerpt:

Get a special look inside Michael Connelly’s Harry Bosch novel, The Closers. This 5:36 video clip opens at the LAPD’s police academy graduation ceremony. Michael then takes you on a short tour of a few of the places in Los Angeles that appear in this book and he reads an excerpt from The Closers.

PART ONE: BLUE RELIGION

Chapter One

Within the practice and protocol of the Los Angeles Police Department a two-six call is the one that draws the most immediate response while striking the most fear behind the bulletproof vest. For it is a call that often has a career riding on it. The designation is derived from the combination of the Code 2 radio call out, meaning respond as soon as possible, and the sixth floor of Parker Center from which the Chief of Police commands the department. A two-six is a forthwith from the chief’s office and any officer who knows and enjoys his position in the department will not delay.

Detective Harry Bosch spent over 25 years with the department in his first tour and never once received a forthwith from the chief of police. In fact, other than receiving his badge at the academy in 1972, he never shook hands or spoke personally with a chief again. He had outlasted several of them—and, of course, seen them at police functions and funerals—but simply never met them along the way. On the morning of his return to duty after a three-year retirement he received his first two-six while knotting his tie in the bathroom mirror. It was an adjutant to the chief calling Bosch’s private cell phone. Bosch didn’t bother asking how they had come up with the number in the chief’s office. It was simply understood that the chief’s office had the power to reach out in such a way. Bosch just said he would be there within the hour, to which the adjutant replied that he would be expected sooner. Harry finished knotting his tie in his car while driving as fast as traffic allowed on the 101 Freeway toward downtown.

It took Bosch exactly 24 minutes from the moment he closed the phone on the adjutant until he walked through the double doors of the chief’s suite on the sixth floor at Parker Center. He thought it had to have been some kind of record, not withstanding the fact that he had illegally parked on Los Angeles Street in front of the police headquarters. If they knew his private cell number, then surely they knew what a feat it had been to make it from the Hollywood Hills to the chief’s office in under a half hour.

But the adjutant, a Lieutenant named Hohman, stared him down with disinterested eyes and pointed to a plastic sealed couch that already had two other people waiting on it.

“You’re late,” he said. “Take a seat.”

Bosch decided not to protest, not to make matters possibly worse. He stepped over to the couch and sat between the two men in uniforms who had staked out the armrests. They sat bolt upright and did not small talk. He figured they had been two-sixed as well.

Ten minutes went by. The men on either side of him were called in ahead of Bosch, each dispensed with by the chief in five minutes flat. While the second man was in with the chief, Bosch thought he heard loud voices from the inner sanctum and when the officer came out his face was ashen. He had somehow fucked up in the eyes of the chief and the word—which had even filtered to Bosch in retirement—was that this new man did not suffer fuck ups lightly. Bosch had read a story in the Times about a command staffer who was demoted for failing to inform the chief that the son of a city councilman usually allied against the department had been picked up on a deuce. The chief only found out about it when the councilman called to complain about harassment, as if the department had forced his son to drink six vodka martinis at Bar Marmount and drive home via the trunk of a tree on Mulholland.

Finally Hohman put down the phone and pointed his finger at Bosch. He was up. He was quickly shuttled into a corner office with a view of the Union Station and the surrounding train yards. It was a decent view but not a great one. It didn’t matter because the place was coming down soon. The department would move into temporary offices while a new and modern police headquarters was rebuilt on the same spot. The current headquarters was known as the Glass House by the rank and file, supposedly because there were no secrets kept inside. Bosch wondered what the next place would become known as.

The chief of police was behind a large desk signing papers. Without looking up from this work he told Bosch to have a seat in front of the desk. Within 30 seconds the chief signed his last document and looked up at Bosch. He smiled.
“I wanted to meet you and welcome you back to the department.”

His voice was marked by an eastern accent.  De-paht-ment. This was fine with Bosch. In L.A. everybody was from somewhere else. Or so it seemed. It was both the strength and the weakness of the city.

“It is good to be back,” Bosch said.

“You understand that you are here at my pleasure.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Yes, sir, I do.”

“Obviously, I checked you out extensively before approving your return. I had concerns about your . . . shall we say style, but ultimately your talent won the day. You can also thank your partner, Kizmin Rider, for her lobbying effort. She’s a good officer and I trust her. She trusts you.”

“I have already thanked her but I will do it again.”

“I know it has been less than three years since you retired but let me assure you, Detective Bosch, that the department you have rejoined is not the department you left.”

“I understand that.”

“I hope so. You know about the consent decree?”

Just after Bosch had left the department the previous chief had been forced to agree to a series of reforms in order to head off a federal takeover of the LAPD following an FBI investigation into wholesale corruption, violence, and civil rights violations within the ranks. The current chief had to carry out the agreement or he would end up taking orders from the FBI. From the chief down to the lowliest boot, nobody wanted that.

“Yes,” Bosch said. “I’ve read about it.”

“Good. I’m glad you have kept yourself informed. And I am happy to report that despite what you may read in the Times, we are making great strides and we want to keep that momentum. We are also trying to update the department in terms of technology. We are pushing forward in community policing. We are doing a lot of good things, Detective Bosch, much of which can be undone in the eyes of the community if we resort to old ways. Do you understand what I am telling you?”

“I think so.”

“Your return here is not guaranteed. You are on probation for a year. So consider yourself a rookie again. A boot—the oldest living boot at that. I approved your return—I can also wash you out without so much as a reason anytime in the course of the year. Don’t give me a reason.”

Bosch didn’t answer. He didn’t think he was supposed to.

“On Friday we graduate a new class of cadets at the academy. I would like you to be there.”

“Sir?”

“I want you to be there. I want you to see the dedication in our young people’s faces. I want to re-acquaint you with the traditions of this department. I think it could help you, help you rededicate yourself.”

“If you want me to be there I will be there.”

“Good. I will see you there. You will sit under the VIP tent as my guest.”

He made a note about the invite on a pad of paper next to the blotter. He then put the pen down and raised his hand to point a finger at Bosch. His eyes took on a fierceness.

“Listen to me, Bosch. Don’t ever break the law to enforce the law. At all times you do your job constitutionally and compassionately. I will accept it no other way. This city will accept it no other way. Are we okay on that?”

“We are okay.”

“Then we are good to go.”

Bosch took his cue and stood up. The chief surprised him by also standing and extending his hand. Bosch thought he wanted to shake hands and extended his own. The chief put something in his hand and Bosch looked down to see the gold detective’s shield. He had his old number back. It had not been given away. He almost smiled.

“Wear it well,” the police chief said. “And proudly.”

“I will.”

Now they shook hands but as they did so the chief didn’t smile.

“The chorus of forgotten voices,” he said.

“Excuse me, Chief?”

“That’s what I think about when I think of the cases down there in Open Unsolved. It’s a house of horrors. Our greatest shame. All those cases. All those voices. Every one of them is like a stone thrown into a lake. The ripples move out through time and people. Families, friends, neighbors. How can we call ourselves a city when there are so many ripples, when so many voices have been forgotten by this department?”

Bosch let go of his hand and didn’t say anything. There was no answer for the chief’s question.

“I changed the name of the unit when I came into the department. Those aren’t cold cases, Detective. They never go cold. Not for some people.”

“I understand that.”

“Then go down there and clear cases. That’s what your art is. That’s why we need you and why you are here. That’s why I am taking a chance with you. Show them we do not forget. Show them that in Los Angeles cases don’t go cold.”
“I will.”

Bosch left him there, still standing and maybe a little haunted by the voices. Like himself. Bosch thought that maybe for the first time he had actually connected on some level with the man at the top. In the military it is said that you go into battle and fight and are willing to die for the men who sent you. Bosch never felt that when he was moving through the darkness of the tunnels in Vietnam. He had felt alone and that he was fighting for himself, fighting to stay alive. That had carried with him into the department and he had at times adopted the view that he was fighting in spite of the men at the top. Now maybe things would be different.

In the hallway he punched the elevator button harder than he needed to. He had too much excitement and energy and he understood this. The chorus of forgotten voices. The chief seemed to know the song they were singing. And Bosch certainly did, too. Most of his life had been spent listening to that song.

“Connelly comes as close as anyone to being today’s Dostoyevsky of crime literature, and this is one of his finest works to date, a likely candidate not only for book award nominations but for major bestsellerdom.”
— Publishers Weekly *Starred Review

“what can you do to refresh the screen when your hero, like Connelly’s Harry Bosch, looks at the world through “seen-it-all-twice eyes”? You can take a chance, and that’s exactly what Connelly does here, transforming his world-weary hero into a rookie cop and forcing him (and us) to live one day at a time without the comfort of our own cynicism. …Connelly sets up a great premise here—the cop determined to reinvent himself in the face of a thoroughly recalcitrant world—and he makes the most of it.”
— Booklist * Starred Review

“compelling style makes even the most mundane details fascinating. Fans and newcomers alike will love seeing Bosch back in uniform, stirring up trouble. For all crime fiction collections.”
— Library Journal * Starred Review

“Connelly is one of the most consistently excellent authors in current-day crime fiction: his characters, particularly the world-weary Bosch, are complex and appealing; his stories fast-paced, edgy and believable.”
— BookPage

“Connelly artfully reclaims the procedural genre. The technical drill in this narrative is as detailed as it gets, and when Bosch applies himself to his first case…he is, in effect, taking the reader on an inside tour of the machinery running the new and streamlined L.A.P.D. … …Bosch can’t bring back the victims, but in his new job he can honor his resolve ”to carry on the mission” and make good on his promise ”always to speak for the dead.””
— Marilyn Stasio, New York Times

“Connelly has risen well above the genre pulp, by telling stories that matter, filling them with rich characters and bringing the locales alive for the reader. All this is accomplished with a skill that lifts the prose from the page and turns it into something palpable.”
— Robin Vidimos, The Denver Post

“The return of Harry Bosch is good for his beloved City of the Angels and great for readers.”
— Gary Wisby, Chicago Sun-Times

“The Closers” is a powerful book… The forensics are fascinating, but it’s the blood splatter from the LAPD’s darkest years that really stain the page.”
— Sherryl Connelly, New York Daily News

“The Closers is as hard-boiled a novel as they come, but the story also explodes in a quiet way. Connelly doesn’t use gratuitous violence to drive a story — he relies on first-class storytelling.”
— Oline H. Cogdill, Sun-Sentinel

“Mr. Connelly’s previous Bosch novel, “The Narrows,” was a career high point. “The Closers,” an engrossing and exciting tale, does nothing to lower the standards of the series. Throughout, Mr. Connelly takes as his subject not just Harry Bosch and his circle of friends (and enemies) but Los Angeles itself: “A city as great as any other. And just as mean.””
— Tom Nolan, The Wall Street Journal

“It’s terrific, rich not just in suspense (at which Connelly has no superiors) but in the warp and woof of police work, of police bureaucracy, of Los Angeles itself. Every character is convincing…”
— Jonathan Yardley, Washington Post

“Fans of Connelly will recognize the deliberate progression of Police Procedural 101, in which he excels; also the thick acronym soup of cop-speak. They will welcome back Bosch on full alert and with tricks aplenty, most of them legal.”
— Eugen Weber, Los Angeles Times

“With crackling dialogue and masterful plot work, Connelly weaves a tale of corruption and betrayal that reaches deep into the abyss called Los Angeles.”
— Geoff Jennings, Rainy Day Books, Fairway, KS (A BookSense Pick For May 2005)

“…in a Michael Connelly novel, things are never as simple as they seem. …excellent, twisty police procedural…”
— Amazon.co.uk Editorial Review

“Connelly’s in top form once again with this tight-as-a-noose tale of retired homicide detective Harry Bosch, who returns to the LAPD to investigate a 20-year-old unsolved murder.”
— LIFE Magazine

“THE CLOSERS finds both Bosch and Connelly on the top of their game.”
— CrimeSpree Magazine

Best Books of 2005, Top 10 Editors’ Picks: Mystery & Thrillers
— Amazon.com Washington Post “Critics Choices” For 2005, Top 5 Books