One day in 1987, I came upon Paul in the state Capitol talking to three state legislators. I had gone to Shreveport, Louisiana, with Jeff Dwire, the man my mother was involved with and was soon to marry. Like a fool, I tried to win. They had come all the way to Moscow to see if the North Vietnamese stationed there would tell the farmer whether his son was dead or alive.
This case is about Detective Harry Bosch, who you see sitting at the defendant's table. His whole killing kit. Early in his marriage he had a drinking problem. The judge said to the jurors, 'We're going to take that break now after all.
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