Harry Bosch is retired in this book and looking into old cases that never got solved, trying to work form memory to figure out what might have happened. He’s almost a private investigator but not quite because nobody pays him and he’s not working for anybody but himself.
It’s a great story, as all Michael Connelly books are, and a true mystery that kept me mystified but never confused. However, the story seems to point in one direction, and that is the fact that Harry Bosch has to get his job back. Connelly can only keep this directionless stumbling into solving crimes gig going for so long before it will become old. If there are going to be more stories about Bosch (and I know there are because I’ve read some of them) then he’s going to have to go back to work.
I have the benefit of knowing that Bosch is only unemployed for a few books but I can’t help but think that the eventuality of his return to the Police Force would feel just as inevitable in this book if I had read them in order. Bosch is stumbling about, he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. He tells himself he likes being retired but he bought himself a car that would most likely mimic the power and feel of his police cruiser and he got a PI license just in case he needed it. This isn’t a man who retires.
The book has all of Connelly’s signature action and philosophy mingled with brilliant and fully realized characters. The twists and turns that Bosch goes through as he puzzles out a mystery two years dormant are the same twists the reader has to make and there are some of the same surprises.
This is a standard Harry Bosch mystery, which means that it is excellent. At his worst Connelly is surprising and entertaining. At his best he shakes up the world and leaves the reader breathless and emotionally raw. Lost Light is somewhere in between.