The Black Echo

The novel’s several mysteries now become clear. However, their solutions—as befits the detective genre—are not obvious. This structure keeps readers on tenterhooks and actively engaged with the plot, looking for clues and evaluating possibilities. Bosch has seemingly solved the robbery connected to the murders: The object is to steal diamonds from former corrupt captains in the Saigon police force; there might be a second robbery during Memorial Day weekend. At the same time, Bosch has no idea who the inside man is. Connelly makes sure to present multiple viable suspects: Lewis and Clarke wonder how their boss, Irving, learned about Sharkey so quickly, Lieutenant Pounds is being cc’ed on IAD reports, Wish is hot and cold toward Bosch for mysterious reasons, and Bosch distrusts Rourke as well. Some of these people will be revealed to be red herrings, but only after the novel’s climax.

With the plot elements in place, the novel switches gears from the tension of observation to the excitement of action. So far, we have watched Bosch doggedly pursue leads, but now he becomes the target of an attack, which raises the stakes. When a car almost runs over Bosch and Wish, Bosch decides that the escalation means he can also stop reining himself in: “[T]hings were out of control and there were new rules—for both sides” (214). At the same time, rather than investigate a crime after it’s taken place, Bosch is in a position to prevent a likely heist of Beverly Hills Safe & Lock. The preparations herald the climactic confrontation of the last act. Connelly sets up a complex scenario: As Franklin and Delgado are already in the tunnels, about to drill into the vault, two cars stake out the vault outside, SWAT teams hide in the tunnels, and Lewis and Clarke watch Bosch. Meanwhile, wildcards like the Beverly Hills Safe & Lock manager, the Beverly Hills police, and the possible vengeance of Binh and Tran lurk in the background.

Connelly portrays Internal Affairs as clownish. Director Irvin Irving has a silly, repetitive name and a jaw wider than his ears, and he grinds his teeth. Lewis and Clarke are comically stupid—a quality underscored by their being named for the famed team of 19th-century surveyors, only to highlight the cops’ incompetence—bickering with each other, cowering from Irving like a villain’s cartoon henchmen, and taking naps at the same time while on stakeout. By portraying IAD in this manner, Connelly is by association suggesting their values are farcical: In this case, the most important job is protecting cops who buy into the Insularity of the LAPD and ostracizing those who do not.

Throughout the novel, Bosch contemplates the view of the veterans cemetery—hundreds of identical, symmetrically arranged, white gravestones—from the window of the FBI’s offices. To underscore the point that Bosch can never get away from his experiences in the war, the cemetery is also currently home to a half-size, replica version of the Vietnam War Memorial in Washington, DC, which to Bosch “look[s] almost like a mass grave” (218). This image highlights the hypocrisy with which the United States treats its veterans, respecting their memory when dead but doing little to help them when alive. It also reminds Bosch of all the Vietnam Veterans’ Trauma. The image of the mass grave also connects to the novel’s title. Connelly reveals the source of the phrase “the black echo” (319): It was something Meadows said upon emerging from a tunnel while carrying the scalps of Vietnamese soldiers. The black echo represents the disorientation and blindness of being underground: “the emptiness you’d feel when you were down there alone” (318). That isolation haunts Bosch, preventing him from ever fully stopping being lonely. Even though Bosch and Wish admit that they are developing feelings for each other, Bosch does not commit to the newfound relationship. He clearly doesn’t fully trust her, deviating from their plan when they interrogate Tran and planting the bug without telling her.

Wish does her best to bridge this gap. During the stakeout, Wish presses Bosch again about the Dollmaker case. Bosch still has not clarified whether he knew the suspect was not reaching for his gun. Nevertheless, Wish decides that he did know and tells him that she agrees with what he did, calling it “justice,” not “law and order” (321). Wish’s impassioned defense of Seeking Justice Versus Policing plays on the tragic fate of Bosch’s mother, a sex worker who was strangled in an alley and whose murder remains unsolved. Wish believes that Bosch was avenging his mother when he executed the Dollmaker, arguing that in this case, intentionally ignoring police procedure was warranted. They have clearly bonded over the idea that it is difficult to stand by while the guilty go unpunished. Now the novel asks whether it is fair that the villainous Binh and Tran have transitioned from their life of crime to comfortable lives in California.