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Donelson

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Reply with quote  #1 
Nine Dragons 

All his life Harry Bosch believed he had a mission. And to carry out that mission he needed to be bulletproof. He needed to build himself and his life so that he was invulnerable, so that nothing and no one could ever get to him. 
 
All of that changed on the day he was introduced to the daughter he didn’t know he had. In that moment he knew he was both saved and lost. He would be forever connected to the world in the way only a father knew.

-----
Happy is the man who finds refuge in himself.


Cielo Azul 
 
These were not the photos I had sent him [McCaleb]. These were 8x10 blowups of the original crime scene photos. He had made these on his own. It told me that McCaleb had certainly spent some time with the case. It made me think that maybe it had hooked him the way it had hooked me. A girl with no name left dead on the hillside. A girl no one had come forward to claim. A girl no one cared about. 
 
In my secret heart I cared and I had claimed her. And now maybe McCaleb had, too.
 
------ 
 
Seguin stood up and approached the bars. I remembered the hours we had spent in the interrogation room, close like this. The body was worn but not the eyes. They were unchanged. Those eyes were the signature of all the evil I had ever known.
...
He came back to the bars. “And you need me to relieve you of that burden by giving you a name, a mommy and daddy who care.”
...
He was a foot away from me. I could reach through the bars and grab his throat if I wanted to. But that would’ve been what he wanted me to do.
...
“Well, I won’t release you, Detective. You put me in this cage. I put you in that one.”
 
He stepped back and pointed at me. I looked down and realized both my hands were tightly gripping the steel bars of the cage. My cage.
----- 
 
“Harry, get an ambulance.” 
 
I stood up and stepped back from the scene. I felt my chest growing tight, a clarity of thought coming over me. In all my years I had spoken for the dead many times. I had avenged the dead. I was at home with the dead. But I had never so clearly had a part in pulling someone away from the outstretched hands of death. 
 
And in that moment I knew we had done just that. And I knew that whatever happened afterward and wherever my life took me, I would always have this moment, that it would be a light that could lead me out of the darkest of tunnels.


The Burning Room
 
The city had recently mandated that all public facilities have a “family” room where employees or citizen visitors could have privacy while breast-feeding their babies. 
 
None of the nineteen police stations in the city were designed to include a lactation room, so the edict went out that one of the interview rooms in each detective bureau be transformed into a space that met city requirements. 
 
The rooms were repainted in soothing pastel tones, and cartoon stickers were added as well. Sometimes in overcrowded situations, the rooms were used during investigations, the unwitting suspects being interrogated in front of the likes of SpongeBob SquarePants and Kermit the Frog.


The Drop 
 
Most parents were raising citizens of the future. Doctors, teachers, mothers, keepers of family businesses. Bosch was raising a warrior.


The Black Box
 
On Bosch’s first call to Henrik, the twin brother of Anneke -

Henrik: "I am happy to talk now. Please, go ahead.” 
 
“Thank you. I, uh, first want to say as I said in my email that the investigation of your sister’s death is high priority. I am actively working on it. Though it was twenty years ago, I’m sure your sister’s death is something that hurts till this day. I’m sorry for your loss.” 
 
“Thank you, Detective. She was very beautiful and very excited about things. I miss her very much.” 
 
“I’m sure you do.” 
 
Over the years, Bosch had talked to many people who had lost loved ones to violence. There were too many to count but it never got any easier and his empathy never withered.


The Burning Room 2
 
Grace was a young saxophonist with a powerful sound. She also sang.
 
The song was “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” and she produced a sound from the horn that no human voice could ever touch. It was plaintive and sad but it came with an undeniable wave of underlying hope. 
 
It made Bosch think that there was still a chance for him, that he could still find whatever it was he was looking for, no matter how short his time was.
 
----------------
 
He grabbed his briefcase off his chair and walked toward the exit door. Before he got there, he heard someone clapping behind him. He turned back and saw it was Soto, standing by her desk. Soon Tim Marcia rose up from his cubicle and started to clap. Then Mitzi Roberts did the same and then the other detectives. Bosch put his back against the door, ready to push through. He nodded his thanks and held his fist up at chest level and shook it. He then went through the door and was gone.


The Burning Room 3
 
“What do you want to know, Bosch?”
 
Harry nodded. His instinct was right. The good ones all had that hollow space inside. The empty place where the fire always burns. For something. Call it justice. Call it the need to know. Call it the need to believe that those who are evil will not remain hidden in darkness forever. 
 
At the end of the day Rodriguez was a good cop and he wanted what Bosch wanted. He could not remain angry and mute if it might cost Orlando Merced his due.
 
------------ 
 
“I have waited twenty years for this phone call . . . and all this time I thought it would go away. I knew I would always be sad for my sister. But I thought the other would go away.” 
 
“What is the other, Henrik?” Though he knew the answer. 
 
“Anger . . . I am still angry, Detective Bosch.” 
 
Bosch nodded. He looked down at his desk, at the photos of all the victims under the glass top. Cases and faces. His eyes moved from the photo of Anneke Jespersen to some of the others. The ones he had not yet spoken for. 
 
“So am I, Henrik,” he said. “So am I.”
 

Angle of Investigation 
 
1972
 
They were heading south on Vermont through territory unfamiliar to him. It was only his second day with Eckersly and his second on the job.
 
Now 
 
He knew that passion was a key element in any investigation. Passion was the fuel that kept his fire burning. So he purposely sought the personal connection or, short of that, the personal outrage in every case. It kept him locked in and focused. But it wasn’t the Laura syndrome. It wasn’t the same as falling in love with a dead woman. By no means was Bosch in love with June Wilkins. He was in love with the idea of reaching back across time and catching the man who had killed her.


The Scarecrow
 
At one time the newsroom was the best place in the world to work. A bustling place of camaraderie, competition, gossip, cynical wit and humor, it was at the crossroads of ideas and debate. It produced stories and pages that were vibrant and intelligent, that set the agenda for what was discussed and considered important in a city as diverse and exciting as Los Angeles.





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W Donelson
agnes_1317

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Reply with quote  #2 
Hi, I am new to this nice group. I have read and loved Michael Connelly´s books for a very long time.  I am originally from Europe.  I want everybody to know that there is a big and terribly interesting exhibit with Hieronymus Bosch´s works in his hometown in Holland right now.  It is to commemorate his death 500 years ago.  It is sold out.  I hope to get tickets to the exhibition when it comes to Prado in Madrid during my stay there in June.
Bosch was one of the important artists.

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sonja sandin
Donelson

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Reply with quote  #3 
Wonderful. Wish I could go. Perhaps some day!
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fred7771

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Reply with quote  #4 

And the well-known British art critic, Waldemar Januszczak, now believes that Bosch was the painter that really kicked off the whole Renaissance movement.  In his reaction to the new Bosch exhibit, he states,  "And here’s another question: who in recent times has inspired more followers, Michelangelo or Hieronymus Bosch?

 . . . Bosch wins hands down. His influence on symbolism, expressionism and, above all, surrealism has been galactic. Without him there would be no Goya, no Dali, no Magritte, no Beckmann, no Chapman brothers, no warpings, no mutations, no dark and violent envisionings of hell on earth. Any art that presents reality as the site of madness and distortion can trace its lineage back to the inventive artistic firebrand born in ’s-Hertogenbosch, in the Netherlands, in about 1450."

See:  http://www.waldemar.tv/2016/03/modern-not-medieval/

So, Harry Bosch, who mused in A Darkness More Than Night that Bosch's nightmarish vision presaged twenty-first century Los Angeles and its ubiquitous criminal goings on, may have been right in tune with this new idea of the painter's influence.


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Fred in Bogota
fred7771

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Reply with quote  #5 
Actually, it may have been McCaleb that thought that about the painter Bosch (?)
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Fred in Bogota
Donelson

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Reply with quote  #6 
I think Connelly will be seen as a modern master, just as important as Hammer, Chandler, and Spillane.

His hero is our hero, his mission becomes our mission. In today's world, we need more Harry Bosches.

I have put up some passages from Connelly's Bosch series, things that stand out, stand above good detective fiction, and rise to important fiction, important insights into who we are.

Thank you, Michael.

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W Donelson
Donelson

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Reply with quote  #7 
The Closers
Bosch studied the mud-walled structure behind the musician and wondered if Don Francisco Avila had any idea what he was helping to set in motion when he staked his claim to the spot in 1818. A city would grow tall and wide from this place. A city as great as any other. And just as mean. A destination city, a city of invention and reinvention.

A place where the dream seemed as easy to reach as the sign they put up on the hill, but a place where the reality was always something different. The road to that sign on the hill had a locked gate across it.
 

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W Donelson
Janed

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Reply with quote  #8 
Love that one, Donelson. Thanks.
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Jane Davis
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http://www.MichaelConnelly.com
Donelson

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Reply with quote  #9 
Quote:
Originally Posted by fred7771

And the well-known British art critic, Waldemar Januszczak, now believes that Bosch was the painter that really kicked off the whole Renaissance movement.  In his reaction to the new Bosch exhibit, he states,  "And here’s another question: who in recent times has inspired more followers, Michelangelo or Hieronymus Bosch?

 . . . Bosch wins hands down. His influence on symbolism, expressionism and, above all, surrealism has been galactic. Without him there would be no Goya, no Dali, no Magritte, no Beckmann, no Chapman brothers, no warpings, no mutations, no dark and violent envisionings of hell on earth. Any art that presents reality as the site of madness and distortion can trace its lineage back to the inventive artistic firebrand born in ’s-Hertogenbosch, in the Netherlands, in about 1450."

See:  http://www.waldemar.tv/2016/03/modern-not-medieval/

So, Harry Bosch, who mused in A Darkness More Than Night that Bosch's nightmarish vision presaged twenty-first century Los Angeles and its ubiquitous criminal goings on, may have been right in tune with this new idea of the painter's influence.



Superb, Thank you.

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W Donelson
Donelson

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Reply with quote  #10 
The Wrong Side of Goodbye 
 
Bosch picked up the envelope. It wasn’t sealed. He looked into it and saw a clear glass test tube containing a swab used to collect saliva. It was Vance’s DNA sample. “This is where you could be tricking me, Mr. Vance.”

“How so?”

“It would have been better if I had swabbed you, collected this myself.”

“You have my word.”

“And you have mine.”

Vance nodded and there did not seem to be anything else to say.

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W Donelson
Donelson

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Reply with quote  #11 
courtesy Janed, moderator:

The Lost Light

There is no end of things in the heart. Somebody once told me that. She said it came from a poem she believed in. She understood it to mean that if you took something to heart, really brought it inside those red velvet folds, then it would always be there for you. No matter what happened, it would be there waiting. She said this could mean a person, a place, a dream. A mission. Anything sacred. She told me that it is all connected in those secret folds. Always. It is all part of the same and will always be there, carrying the same beat as your heart. I am fifty-two years old and I believe it. At night when I try to sleep but can't, that is when I know it. lt is when all the pathways seem to connect and I see the people I have loved and hated and helped and hurt. I see the hands that reach for me. I hear the beat and see and understand what I must do. I know my mission and I know there is no turning away or turning back. And it is in those moments that I know there is no end of things in the heart.



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W Donelson
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