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Fiction. Mystery. Suspense. Thriller. HTML:Suspended from his job with the LAPD, Harry Bosch must face the darkest parts of his past to track down his mother's killer . . . even if it costs him his life. Harry Bosch's life is on the edge. His earthquake-damaged home has been condemned. His girlfriend has left him. He's drinking too much. And after attacking his commanding officer, he's even had to turn in his L.A.P.D. detective's badge. Now, suspended indefinitely pending a psychiatric evaluation, he's spending his time investigating an unsolved crime from 1961: the brutal slaying of a prostitute who happened to be his own mother. Even after three decades, Harry's questions generate heat among L.A.'s top politicos. And as the truth begins to emerge, it becomes more and more apparent that someone wants to keep it buried. Someone very powerful...very cunning...and very deadly. Edgar Award-winning author Michael Connelly has created a dark, fast-paced suspense thriller that cuts to the core of Harry Bosch's character. Once you start it, there's no turning back.… (more)
User reviews
I'm really enjoying these. This one is a little different, since Harry is out on stress leave, and working by himself on a case he shouldn't be on, but one he has to work all the same. He's finding life without his badge and his gun very different, despite the
I'm finding the continuity better now that I've actually read two in a row, but there are still gaps in the history that I feel mightn't be there had I read the second book too. Read them in order.
Late one night Harry sees a scrawny, scraggly coyote come up out of a canyon. He used to see them quite often and fears that one day he will stop seeing them. He talks to the therapist he is forced to go and see. He realizes he is like the coyote, able to adapt to mankind and it's relentless development of what is wild and natural, but unable to thrive any longer in the face of all the encroachments he sees around him. In the end he leaves and goes to see his new girlfriend in Florida. Florida is probably not any better, but at least it isn't California.
He-man Harry has little patience for the psychobabble, but eventually he opens up to the female doctor, who is concerned for his mental health when he decides to spend his free time investigating the murder of his mother, a party girl/prostitute, 35 years ago. Chasing down leads takes him from L.A. to Florida and back again, and he begins to suspect some high-level shenanigans in both his mother's death and the subsequent investigation, which seems more like a cover-up than a quest for justice.
Bosch is a classic flawed protagonist. He's harsh, quick to anger, relentlessly un-PC; on the other hand, he cares more than anything about getting justice for the homicide victims whose cases cross his desk. Connelly has given us glimpses of Bosch's back story before, but this book really dives in and makes clear that everything that he is today stems from what happened to his mother. But can he solve her murder without triggering his own?
Connelly is not the smoothest or the most lyrical of writers; his background is in journalism and it shows in his straightforward, just-the-facts-ma'am style. But the glimpses he gives readers into the inner lives of his characters feel authentic, and the somewhat convoluted plots hold up well through the denouement. I do wish just once that the bureaucratic obstacle du jour standing in Harry's way didn't always turn out to be a stupid fat woman who gets her comeuppance in physical humiliation. Don't thin, moderately attractive women ever act like petty tyrants?
Before long, oddities crop up: unusual police procedures, missing pages from the murder book, hints of undue interference from political figures. By the very nature of the case, Harry talks with people from his past, especially his mother’s best friend, and former police officers who are unduly wary of inquiries from Los Angeles.
The trail heats up, and leads Harry to several confrontations, one of which costs Pounds his life. Chagrined but determined to find out who killed his mother, Harry pushes on despite the danger to himself and others.
Another excellent installment in this series. Connelly’s novels always start out the way I imagine police investigations do—wandering a bit, especially in this instance with such an old case. There is no clear trail, nothing definite to put one’s finger on, just the sense of needing to push on. The writing is excellent and the plotting is superb. The climax is unexpected, and extremely well done. As usual, I’m left with the desire to read more.
Highly recommended.
He uses his free time to investigate his Mothers murder 25 years earlier.
Harry uncovers a few old home truths. He finds love along the way ruffles some feathers in his own department.
This is the first Harry Bosch
However, I was left with troubling doubts about the series. Maybe I read it is just that any book was bound to be a letdown after The Concrete Blonde. Much of the plot of Last Coyote centers around Bosch's explosive and unrestrained temper, but to me, this characterization seemed contradictory. Bosch seemed to always be burning with inner anger and pain, but always under tight control. His childhood memory of being pulled out of the swimming pool to be informed of his mother's death exemplified his general demeanour. Hearing the news, he dove deep into the dark waters, letting the depths swallow his screams and the water hide his tears. This is the guy who, in the last book, sat calmly, his face a mask, as he was accused of murder and scheming and called a monster. Bosch's previous actions made him seem someone who controlled and used his pent-up anger, releasing it in calculated bursts. But according to this story, he's had a "problem" with his "unrestrained temper" this whole time.
Isolation and loss are major themes of this story. However, this sudden isolation felt scripted and unnatural to me. The desertion of Bosch's love interest, Sylvia, is essentially unexplained--except it is thematically convenient. I feel Connelly has a pattern of treating women as plot devices rather than characters: in each book, a female character is introduced to provide reactions and explication in accordance to the story's theme. This female is then discarded between books, obviating any necessity of any female character development. One of the series' major themes is Bosch's repudiation of the way society treats outcasts and prostitutes. It is therefore rather ironic that Connelly exploits his female characters to develop these themes and disposes of them as soon as they are no longer useful.
I found Bosch a problematic protagonist in this book. He is definitely a rounded and empathetic antihero: deeply driven, with a problematic ethical code and a tendency to make terrible mistakes that have drastic consequences. This book adds new facets to his character by exploring the past he has repressed. But it hit me that he hasn't grown as a character; he's regressed. I'm tired of his apparent desire to alienate everyone around him and troubled and repulsed by his willingness to let ends justify means. This was a hard book to read, not least because so much of Bosch's pain, so much of his isolation, is due his own self-destructive behaviour. Tangentially, the way this book turned all the symbolism and metaphor into straightforward statements from a psychologist made the conclusions feel forced and superficial to me. I loved the relationship developing between Bosch and Irving, but I was irritated by Bosch's antagonism towards a man who has repeatedly stuck his neck out for Bosch. The two characters act as foils: while Bosch rampages towards his own goals and ignores the damage his actions inflict on others, Irving is the voice of practicality and law: a bureaucrat who cynically weighs the cost of his choices. Bosch repeatedly declares that his actions in pursuit of justice for the dead are "right," despite any illegality or cost to innocents. I was left with the sense that, despite grief at the consequence of his actions, Bosch would not rethink his path. It is not just that Bosch doesn't trust the system; he believes that the rules do not apply to him. Despite the opportunities this book provided for self-evaluation, I was left with an unsatisfying sense that Bosch was confirmed in his belief that he had the right to act as judge, jury, and executioner in the pursuit of his own ideal of justice. Perhaps as the series continues, he will begin to reconsider his actions, but I think I'll wait a bit to find out.