Trunk Music (Harry Bosch Series #5)

( 273 )

Overview

Back on the job after an involuntary leave of absence, LAPD homicide detective Harry Bosch is ready for a challenge. But his first case is a little more than he bargained for.

It starts with the body of a Hollywood producer in the trunk of a Rolls-Royce, shot twice in the head at close range - what looks like "trunk music," a Mafia hit. But the LAPD's organized crime unit is curiously uninterested, and when Harry follows a trail of gambling ...

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Trunk Music (Harry Bosch Series #5)

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Overview

Back on the job after an involuntary leave of absence, LAPD homicide detective Harry Bosch is ready for a challenge. But his first case is a little more than he bargained for.

It starts with the body of a Hollywood producer in the trunk of a Rolls-Royce, shot twice in the head at close range - what looks like "trunk music," a Mafia hit. But the LAPD's organized crime unit is curiously uninterested, and when Harry follows a trail of gambling debts to Las Vegas, the case suddenly becomes more complex - and much more personal.

A rekindled romance with an old girlfriend opens new perspectives on the murder, and he begins to glimpse a shocking triangle of corruption and collusion. Yanked off the case, Harry himself is soon the one being investigated. But only a bullet can stop Harry when he's searching for the truth . . .

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Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher
"His best yet!...a jazzy, funky, roller coaster of a book.""—Publishers Weekly

"Trunk Music is Connelly at his best, skewering the superficial Hollywood society, the hoods, the good guys and bad girls, the bureaucratic tyrants who would rather fill in the right form than get to the truth."—Orlando Sentinel

"A terrific read...truly one of the year's best entertainments."—Booklist

Orlando Sentinel
"Trunk Music is Connelly at his best, skewering the superficial Hollywood society, the hoods, the good guys and bad girls, the bureaucratic tyrants who would rather fill in the right form than get to the truth."
Booklist
"A terrific read...truly one of the year's best entertainments."
Washington Post
Compelling...Connelly displays a wonderful atmospheric feel for the posh and the poor...The last pages bring things to a shocking end that should satisfy Connelly's growing audience.
People
For those seeking the kind of action that takes more turns than a roulette wheel, Trunk Music is a sure bet.
Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly
From the opening bars, when the body of Tony Aliso is pulled from the trunk of his Rolls Royce Silver Cloud on Mulholland Drive, to the final grace note on a Hawaiian beach, Connelly has crafted a jazzy, funky, roller coaster of a book. The return of maverick L.A. homicide detective Hieronymous (Harry) Bosch (from 1995's The Last Coyote) is cause for rejoicing. The Aliso murder quickly embroils Bosch and his new team (Kizmin Rider, a young black female officer on the rise in the department; veteran Jerry Edgar; and their boss, Lieutenant Grace Billets) in a Byzantine tangle of Las Vegas mob money, Hollywood filmmaking and police politics. The plot rushes headlong into deadends and deadfalls, repeatedly reorients and tears off in a new direction. Never known for tact, the single-minded Bosch is soon hotfooting through an acronymic snakepit: the LAPD's OCID (Organized Crime Investigation Division); the IAD (Internal Affairs Division); the LVPD's OCU (Las Vegas Police Department's Organized Crime Unit); the FBI. Not only does each organization claim a piece of the action, but each also wants a piece of Bosch. Connelly has it all working together here: skillful dialogue, solid plotting, nuances of race and status and a pace that will leave readers gasping to keep up. Connelly's early promise (The Black Echo earned him the 1993 Edgar for best first novel) has been borne out nicely by succeeding novels. Trunk Music is his best yet. $400,000 ad/promo; author tour. (Jan.)
Library Journal
Homicide dick Harry Bosch investigates the murder of a Hollywood producer in this latest from the author of the Edgar Award-winning The Black Echo (LJ 1/92).
Kirkus Reviews
Hollywood homicide dick Harry Bosch goes up against whoever killed high-rolling, lowlife filmmaker Tony Aliso and tipped his body into the trunk of his Rolls.

The early buzz on the case shouts Las Vegas—so Harry heads out there in hopes of tracking down Tony's latest companion, a stripper named Layla. Instead he finds a trail of evidence that links Tony to a money-laundering operation for Joey Marks, the outfit's top man in Vegas; to Dolly's, a strip club owned by Marks lieutenant Luke ("Lucky") Goshen; and to Eleanor Wish, an ex-FBI agent whose activities took her to Harry's bed and a stretch in the pen before she turned up on video playing poker at Tony's side. Tough-guy Harry (The Last Coyote, 1995, etc.), incredibly still carrying a torch for Eleanor, wastes no time rekindling their affair—Eleanor's sullenness cracks just long enough for some brisk sex—and then finds he has to cut all sorts of deals with the Vegas cops and his own department to keep her out of the case he's building against Lucky Goshen. Back in L.A., deeper trouble awaits: When Harry lays out the case against Goshen—motive, fingerprints, murder weapon—he's told that Goshen's an undercover FBI agent with an ironclad alibi and that he's dashed into the middle of a sting that's been years in the making. Relieved once again of his homicide assignment, Harry—together with trusty sidekicks Jerry Edgar and Kiz Rider—goes up against Tony's killers himself, with results as gripping and satisfying as they are improbable.

Forget realism, okay? If you'd like to see a buried love affair take off like a rocket and a bunch of crooks and crooked cops as canny and treacherous as le Carré's spies, you've come to the right place.

Washington Post
"Compelling...Connelly displays a wonderful atmospheric feel for the posh and the poor...The last pages bring things to a shocking end that should satisfy Connelly's growing audience."
People
"For those seeking the kind of action that takes more turns than a roulette wheel, Trunk Music is a sure bet."
From Barnes & Noble
The murder of a Hollywood producer has all the signs of a Mafia hit, but something doesn't add up. Battling impertinent superiors, disgraced LAPD homicide detective Harry Bosch follows a string of odd clues until he uncovers a scheme many magnitudes more deadly than he'd imagined--with himself as the next target. Now Harry must prove himself not just by breaking the case, but surviving it. "Truly one of the year's best entertainments." Booklist.
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781455550654
  • Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
  • Publication date: 10/15/2013
  • Series: Harry Bosch Series , #5
  • Format: Mass Market Paperback
  • Pages: 544
  • Sales rank: 53,256
  • Product dimensions: 4.10 (w) x 7.50 (h) x 1.00 (d)

Meet the Author

Michael  Connelly
Michael Connelly is a former journalist and has won every major prize for crime fiction. He lives in Florida.

Biography

Best known for his dark police procedurals featuring the tough, complex and emotionally scarred LAPD detective, Hieronymous "Harry" Bosch, Michael Connelly has been called "infernally ingenious" (The New York Times), "one of those masters...who can keep driving the story forward in runaway locomotive style" (USA Today) and "the top rank of a new generation of crime writers" (The Los Angeles Times).

Consistently exquisite prose and engrossing storylines play an integral role in his swelling success. However, Connelly believes that solid character development is the most important key. As he explained to MagnaCumMurder.com, "I think books with weak or translucent plots can survive if the character being drawn along the path is rich, interesting and multi-faceted. The opposite is not true."

A native of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Connelly attended the University of Florida; there he discovered the works of Raymond Chandler -- author of many classic Los Angeles-based noir dramas such as The Big Sleep, The Long Goodbye, and Farewell, My Lovely. The cases of Philip Marlowe inspired Connelly to be a crime novelist -- and by studying journalism, he put himself in the perfect position. "I went into journalism to learn the craft of writing and to get close to the world I wanted to write about -- police and criminals, the criminal justice system," he told MagnaCumMurder.com.

After graduation, Connelly worked the crime beat for two Florida newspapers. When a story he and a colleague wrote about the disastrous 1985 crash of Delta Flight 191 was short-listed for the Pulitzer, Connelly landed a gig in Marlowe's backyard, covering crime for one of the nation's largest newspapers -- The Los Angeles Times. Three years later, Harry Bosch was introduced in The Black Echo, which earned Connelly the Edgar Award for Best First Novel. Connelly has since won every major mystery honor, including the Anthony (The Poet, Blood Work) and the Macavity Award (Blood Work).

While Connelly has written stand-alone novels that don't feature his tragic protagonist Harry Bosch, he is best identified by his rigid, contentious and fiery -- but also immensely skilled and compassionate -- detective. According to The Boston Globe, the Bosch series "raises the hard-boiled detective novel to a new level...adding substance and depth to modern crime fiction."

Called "one of the most compelling, complex protagonists in recent crime fiction" (Newsweek) and "a terrific...wonderful, old-fashioned hero who isn't afraid to walk through the flames -- and suffer the pain for the rest of us" (The New York Times Book Review), Bosch faces unforgettable horrors every day -- either on the street or in his own mind. "Bosch is making up for wrongs done to him when he rights wrongs as a homicide detective," Connelly explained in an interview with his publisher. "In a way, he is an avenging angel."

Bosch is clearly a product of his deadly, unforgiving environment. "The philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche once wrote that when you look into the darkness of the abyss the abyss looks into you. Probably no other line or thought more inspires or informs my work," said Connelly in the same interview. With each passing novel, Bosch looks deeper and deeper into the abyss; and readers continue to return to see just how far he will gaze.

Good To Know

  • Michael Connelly received a huge career boost in 1994 when then President Bill Clinton was photographed walking out of a Washington bookstore with a copy of The Concrete Blonde under his arm. Connelly remarked to USA Today, "In the six years I've been writing books, that is the biggest thrill I've had."

  • Real events have always inspired Connelly's plots. His novel Blood Work was inspired by a friend who underwent transplant surgery and was coping with survivor's guilt, knowing someone had died in order for him to live. The book was later developed into a feature film starring Clint Eastwood, Angelica Huston, and Jeff Daniels.

  • One of Connelly's writing professors at the University of Florida was cult novelist Harry Crews.

  • Connelly named his most famous character after the 15th Century Dutch painter, Hieronymous Bosch. As he told Bookends UK in an interview, Bosch "created richly detailed landscapes of debauchery and violence and human defilement. There is a ‘world gone mad' feel to many of his works, including one called ‘Hell' -- of which a print hangs on the wall over the computer where I write." Some interesting outtakes from our interview with Connelly:

    "I wrote a mystery story as a class paper in high school. It was called The Perfect Murder. The protagonist's named was McEvoy, a name I later used for the protagonist in The Poet. Being a witness to a crime when I was 16 was what made me interested in crime novels and mystery stories."

    "I wrote my first real murder story as a journalist for the Daytona Beach News Journal in 1980. It was about a body found in the woods. Later, the murder was linked to a serial killer who was later caught and executed for his crimes."

    "Everything I want people to know about me is in my books."

  • Read More Show Less
      1. Hometown:
        Sarasota, Florida
      1. Date of Birth:
        July 21, 1956
      2. Place of Birth:
        Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
      1. Education:
        B.A. in Journalism, University of Florida, 1980
      2. Website:

    Read an Excerpt

    Trunk Music


    By Michael Connelly

    Grand Central Publishing

    Copyright © 2013 Michael Connelly
    All rights reserved.
    ISBN: 978-1-4555-5065-4



    CHAPTER 1

    As he drove along Mulholland Drive toward the Cahuenga Pass, Bosch began to hear the music. It came to him in fragments of strings and errant horn sequences, echoing off the brown summer-dried hills and blurred by the white noise of traffic carrying up from the Hollywood Freeway. Nothing he could identify. All he knew was that he was heading toward its source.

    He slowed when he saw the cars parked off to the side of a gravel turn-off road. Two detective sedans and a patrol car. Bosch pulled his Caprice in behind them and got out. A single officer in uniform leaned against the fender of the patrol car. Yellow plastic crime-scene tape—the stuff used by the mile in Los Angeles—was strung from the patrol car's sideview mirror across the gravel road to the sign posted on the other side. The sign said, in black-on-white letters that were almost indistinguishable behind the graffiti that covered the sign:

    L.A.F.D. FIRE CONTROL MOUNTAIN FIRE DISTRICT ROAD NO PUBLIC ADMITTANCE—NO SMOKING!


    The patrol cop, a large man with sun-reddened skin and blond bristly hair, straightened up as Bosch approached. The first thing Bosch noted about him other than his size was the baton. It was holstered in a ring on his belt and the business end of the club was marred, the black acrylic paint scratched away to reveal the aluminum beneath. Street fighters wore their battle-scarred sticks proudly, as a sign, a not so subtle warning. This cop was a headbanger. No doubt about it. The plate above the cop's breast pocket said his name was Powers. He looked down at Bosch through Ray-Bans, though it was well into dusk and a sky of burnt orange clouds was reflected in his mirrored lenses. It was one of those sundowns that reminded Bosch of the glow the fires of the riots had put in the sky a few years back.

    "Harry Bosch," Powers said with a touch of surprise. "When did you get back on the table?"

    Bosch looked at him a moment before answering. He didn't know Powers but that didn't mean anything. Bosch's story was probably known by every cop in Hollywood Division.

    "Just did," Bosch said.

    He didn't make any move to shake hands. You didn't do that at crime scenes.

    "First case back in the saddle, huh?"

    Bosch took out a cigarette and lit it. It was a direct violation of department policy but it wasn't something he was worried about.

    "Something like that." He changed the subject. "Who's down there?"

    "Edgar and the new one from Pacific, his soul sister."

    "Rider."

    "Whatever."

    Bosch said nothing further about that. He knew what was behind the contempt in the uniform cop's voice. It didn't matter that he knew Kizmin Rider had the gift and was a top-notch investigator. That would mean nothing to Powers, even if Bosch told him it was so. Powers probably saw only one reason why he was still wearing a blue uniform instead of carrying a detective's gold badge: that he was a white man in an era of female and minority hiring and promotion. It was the kind of festering sore better left undisturbed.

    Powers apparently registered Bosch's nonresponse as disagreement and went on.

    "Anyway, they told me to let Emmy and Sid drive on down when they get here. I guess they're done with the search. So you can drive down instead of walking, I guess."

    It took a second for Bosch to register that Powers was referring to the medical examiner and the Scientific Investigation Division tech. He'd said the names as if they were a couple invited to a picnic.

    Bosch stepped out to the pavement, dropped the half cigarette, and made sure he put it out with his shoe. It wouldn't be good to start a brush fire on his first job back with the homicide table.

    "I'll walk it," he said. "What about Lieutenant Billets?"

    "Not here yet."

    Bosch went back to his car and reached in through the open window for his briefcase. He then walked back to Powers.

    "You the one who found it?"

    "That was me."

    Powers was proud of himself.

    "How'd you open it?"

    "Keep a slim jim in the car. Opened the door, then popped the trunk."

    "Why?"

    "The smell. It was obvious."

    "Wear gloves?"

    "Nope. Didn't have any."

    "What did you touch?"

    Powers had to think about it for a moment.

    "Door handle, the trunk pull. That'd be about it."

    "Did Edgar or Rider take a statement? You write something up?"

    "Nothing yet."

    Bosch nodded.

    "Listen, Powers, I know you're all proud of yourself, but next time don't open the car, okay? We all want to be detectives but not all of us are. That's how crime scenes get fucked up. And I think you know that."

    Bosch watched the cop's face turn a dark shade of crimson and the skin go tight around his jaw.

    "Listen, Bosch," he said. "What I know is that if I just called this in as a suspicious vehicle that smells like there's a stiff in the trunk, then you people would've said, 'What the fuck does Powers know?' and left it there to rot in the sun until there was nothing left of your goddamn crime scene."

    "That might be true but, see, then that would be our fuckup to make. Instead, we've got you fucking us up before we start."

    Powers remained angry but mute. Bosch waited a beat, ready to continue the debate, before dismissing it.

    "Can you lift the tape now, please?"

    Powers stepped back to the tape. He was about thirty-five, Bosch guessed, and had the long-practiced swagger of a street veteran. In L.A. that swagger came to you quickly, as it had in Vietnam. Powers held the yellow tape up and Bosch walked under. As he passed, the cop said, "Don't get lost."

    "Good one, Powers. You got me there."

    The fire road was one lane and overgrown at its sides with brush that came as high as Bosch's waist. There was trash and broken glass strewn along the gravel, the trespasser's answer to the sign at the gate. Bosch knew the road was probably a favorite midnight haunt for teenagers from the city below.

    The music grew louder as he went further in. But he still could not identify it. About a quarter mile in, he came to a gravel-bedded clearing that he guessed was a staging point for fire-fighting apparatus in the event that a brush fire broke out in the surrounding hills. Today it would serve as a crime scene. On the far side of the clearing Bosch saw a white Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud. Standing near it were his two partners, Rider and Edgar. Rider was sketching the crime scene on a clipboard while Edgar worked with a tape measure and called out measurements. Edgar saw Bosch and gave an acknowledging wave with a latex-gloved hand. He let the tape measure snap back into its case.

    "Harry, where you been?"

    "Painting," Bosch said as he walked up. "I had to get cleaned up and changed, put stuff away."

    As Bosch stepped closer to the edge of the clearing, the view opened below him. They were on a bluff rising above the rear of the Hollywood Bowl. The rounded music shell was down to the left, no more than a quarter mile. And the shell was the source of the music. The L.A. Philharmonic's end-of-the-season Labor Day weekend show. Bosch was looking down at eighteen thousand people in concert seats stretching up the opposite side of the canyon. They were enjoying one of the last Sunday evenings of the summer.

    "Jesus," he said out loud, thinking of the problem.

    Edgar and Rider walked over.

    "What've we got?" Bosch asked.

    Rider answered.

    "One in the trunk. White male. Gunshots. We haven't checked him out much further than that. We've been keeping the lid closed. We've got everybody rolling, though."

    Bosch started walking toward the Rolls, going around the charred remnants of an old campfire that had burned in the center of the clearing. The other two followed.

    "This okay?" Bosch asked as he got close to the Rolls.

    "Yeah, we did the search," Edgar said. "Nothing much. Got some leakage underneath the car. That's about it, though. Cleanest scene I've been at in a while."

    Jerry Edgar, called in from home like everybody else on the team, was wearing blue jeans and a white T-shirt. On the left breast of the shirt was a drawing of a badge and the words LAPD Homicide. As he walked past Bosch, Harry saw that the back of the shirt said Our Day Begins When Your Day Ends. The tight-fitting shirt contrasted sharply with Edgar's dark skin and displayed his heavily muscled upper body as he moved with an athletic grace toward the Rolls. Bosch had worked with him on and off for six years but they had never become close outside of the job. This was the first time it had dawned on Bosch that Edgar actually was an athlete, that he must regularly work out.

    It was unusual for Edgar not to be in one of his crisp Nordstrom's suits. But Bosch thought he knew why. His informal dress practically guaranteed he would avoid having to do the dirty work, next-of-kin notification.

    They slowed their steps when they got close to the Rolls, as if perhaps whatever was wrong here might be contagious. The car was parked with its rear end facing south and visible to the spectators in the upper levels of the Bowl across the way. Bosch considered their situation again.

    "So you want to pull this guy out of there with all those people with their wine and box lunches from the Grill watching?" he asked. "How do you think that's going to play on the TV tonight?"

    "Well," Edgar replied, "we thought we'd kind of leave that decision to you, Harry. You being the three."

    Edgar smiled and winked.

    "Yeah, right," Bosch said sarcastically. "I'm the three."

    Bosch was still getting used to the idea of being a so-called team leader. It had been almost eighteen months since he had officially investigated a homicide, let alone headed up a team of three investigators. He had been assigned to the Hollywood Division burglary table when he returned to work from his involuntary stress leave in January. The detective bureau commander, Lieutenant Grace Billets, had explained that his assignment was a way of gradually easing him back into detective work. He knew that explanation was a lie and that she had been told where to put him, but he took the demotion without complaint. He knew they would come for him eventually.

    After eight months of pushing papers and making the occasional burglary arrest, Bosch was called into the CO's office and Billets told him she was making changes. The division's homicide clearance rate had dipped to its lowest point ever. Fewer than half of the killings were cleared. She had taken over command of the bureau nearly a year earlier, and the sharpest decline, she struggled to admit, had come under her own watch. Bosch could have told her that the decline was due in part to her not following the same statistical deceptions practiced by her predecessor, Harvey Pounds, who had always found ways of pumping up the clearance rate, but he kept that to himself. Instead, he sat quietly while Billets laid out her plan.

    The first part of the plan was to move Bosch back to the homicide table as of the start of September. A detective named Selby, who barely pulled his weight, would go from homicide to Bosch's slot on the burglary table. Billets was also adding a young and smart detective transfer she had previously worked with in the Pacific Division detective bureau, Kizmin Rider. Next, and this was the radical part, Billets was changing the traditional pairing of detectives. Instead, the nine homicide detectives assigned to Hollywood would be grouped into three teams of three. Each of the three teams would have a detective third grade in charge. Bosch was a three. He was named team leader of squad one.

    The reasoning behind the change was sound—at least on paper. Most homicides are solved in the first forty-eight hours after discovery or they aren't solved at all. Billets wanted more solved, so she was going to put more detectives on each one. The part that didn't look so good on paper, especially to the nine detectives, was that previously there had been four pairs of partners working homicide cases. The new changes meant each detective would be working every third case that came up instead of every fourth. It meant more cases, more work, more court time, more overtime, and more stress. Only the overtime was considered a positive. But Billets was tough and didn't care much for the complaints of the detectives. And her new plan quickly won her the obvious nickname.

    "Anybody talk to Bullets yet?" Bosch asked.

    "I called," Rider said. "She was up in Santa Barbara for the weekend. Left a number with the desk. She's coming down early but she's still at least an hour and a half from us. She said she was going to have to drop the hubby off first and would probably just roll to the bureau."

    Bosch nodded and stepped to the rear of the Rolls. He picked up the smell right away. It was faint but it was there, unmistakable. Like no other. He nodded to no one in particular again. He placed his briefcase on the ground, opened it, and took a pair of latex gloves from the cardboard box inside. He then closed the case and placed it a few feet behind him and out of the way.

    "Okay, let's take a look," he said while stretching the gloves over his hands. He hated how they felt. "Let's stand close; we don't want to give the people in the Bowl more of a show than they paid for."

    "It ain't pretty," Edgar said as he stepped forward.

    The three of them stood together at the back end of the Rolls to shield the view from the concertgoers. But Bosch knew that anybody with a decent pair of field glasses would know what was going on. This was L.A.

    Before opening the trunk, he noticed the car's personalized license plate. It said TNA. Before he could speak, Edgar answered his unasked question.

    "Comes back to TNA Productions. On Melrose."

    "T and A?"

    "No, the letters, T-N-A, just like on the plate."

    "Where on Melrose?"

    Edgar took a notebook out of his pocket and looked through the pages. The address he gave was familiar to Bosch but he couldn't place it. He knew it was down near Paramount, the sprawling studio that took up the entire north side of the fifty-five-hundred block. The big studio was surrounded by smaller production houses and mini-studios. They were like sucker fish that swam around the mouth of the big shark, hoping for the scraps that didn't get sucked in.

    "Okay, let's do it."

    He turned his attention back to the trunk. He could see that the lid had been lightly placed down so it would not lock closed. Using one rubber-coated finger, he gently lifted it.

    As the trunk was opened, it expelled a sickeningly fetid breath of death. Bosch immediately wished he had a cigarette but those days were through. He knew what a defense lawyer could do with one ash from a cop's smoke at a crime scene. Reasonable doubts were built on less.

    He leaned in under the lid to get a close look, careful not to touch the bumper with his pants. The body of a man was in the trunk. His skin was a grayish white and he was expensively dressed in linen pants sharply pressed and cuffed at the bottom, a pale blue shirt with a flowery pattern and a leather sport coat. His feet were bare.

    The dead man was on his right side in the fetal position except his wrists were behind him instead of folded against his chest. It appeared to Bosch that his hands had been tied behind him and the bindings then removed, most likely after he was dead. Bosch looked closely and could see a small abrasion on the left wrist, probably caused by the struggle against the bindings. The man's eyes were closed tightly and there was a whitish, almost translucent material dried in the corners of the sockets.

    "Kiz, I want you taking notes on appearance."

    "Right."

    Bosch bent further into the trunk. He saw a froth of purged blood had dried in the dead man's mouth and nose. His hair was caked with blood which had spread over the shoulders and to the trunk mat, coating it with a coagulated pool. He could see the hole in the floor of the trunk through which blood had drained to the gravel below. It was a foot from the victim's head and appeared to be evenly cut in the metal underlining in a spot where the floor mat was folded over. It was not a bullet hole. It was probably a drain or a hole left by a bolt that had vibrated loose and fallen out.


    (Continues...)

    Excerpted from Trunk Music by Michael Connelly. Copyright © 2013 Michael Connelly. Excerpted by permission of Grand Central Publishing.
    All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
    Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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    See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 273 Customer Reviews
    • Anonymous

      Posted February 22, 2012

      All of his books are very excellant if you like police stories

      My complaint is your book library does not have Michial Connelly books in number order. It is very difficult to find the next number in as series

      24 out of 30 people found this review helpful.

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    • Posted March 16, 2012

      Very Exciting

      I've just started reading the Harry Bosch novels and I love them all so far. This one is no exception. Good plot, some good twists and a good storyline. In my opinion, you can't go wrong with a Harry Bosch story. You think you have it figured out and then some new piece of evidence shows up or a new wittness steps forward or the obvious person turns out to have an alibi. Good reading, you won't be disappointed.

      7 out of 11 people found this review helpful.

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    • Posted January 10, 2011

      Loved this one too...

      Michael Connelly drops another classic onto the book shelves loved every minute of the book couldn't put it down unless there was a life threatning emergency.

      5 out of 5 people found this review helpful.

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    • Anonymous

      Posted December 27, 2011

      Dale

      The book starts out slowly setting the stage for the last part of the book. The last few chapters were great. Another quality book by M.C.

      4 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

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    • Anonymous

      Posted October 12, 2012

      Nice

      I love all of the books about Harry Bosch. Highly recommend. Some not very graphic violence, some mild sexual situations. No cursing. A nice size book. Likable characters and a good plot.

      AD

      3 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

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    • Anonymous

      Posted October 3, 2012

      !

      Bn, please ban these kids here from wasting space with their stupid rolepkaying games and chitchat crap. Fine them, ban them, do something already.

      3 out of 11 people found this review helpful.

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    • Posted January 28, 2012

      Does not disappoint

      I'm new to the Harry Bosch series (great fan of The Lincoln Lawyer), Harry Bosch is very good also, I started with number 1 & intend to read all of Harry Bosch in order. Highly recommend.

      3 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

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    • Posted May 8, 2010

      Another good read

      You won't be disappointed. This is another great book by this author. He gets so many characters going and you find yourself wanting to know more about them. He does this is such a flowing way that you don't get lost in the identities.

      3 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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    • Anonymous

      Posted March 5, 2012

      doesn't let you down

      another good detective novel with Harry Bosch

      2 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

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    • Posted January 31, 2012

      Recommend

      Easy entertaining read.

      2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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    • Anonymous

      Posted January 15, 2012

      AWESOME

      I luv this series.

      1 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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    • Posted January 5, 2012

      Highly Recommended

      I have not finished it, but it is a continuation of the Harry Bosch series, and they are fabulous. If you enjoy a dark hero with issues, uncovering the seedy side of life, this is a good series to get into. I suggest starting with the first book and work your way through the series.

      1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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    • Posted October 20, 2011

      Trunk Music Review

      This is #5 that I have read of the series and I am ready to download #6.. Great author and even greater characters..Twists and turns in every chapter.. Must read this, but for new comers..You need to start at #1 and learn the characters

      1 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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    • Anonymous

      Posted June 15, 2014

      A recomendation for trunk music

      Dj snake turn down for what

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    • Anonymous

      Posted April 4, 2014

      Great detective novel

      I am new to Michael Connelly, but better late than never. I am taking the Harry Bosch books in their order in the series, and Trunk Music was the best to that point. However, I have to admit as I write this review, I have read two more in the series and find each one improving on the other. Connelly is a master at plot twists, with just enough foreshadowing to allow the reader some educated guesses as to what's next, but never to the point of predictability.

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    • Anonymous

      Posted March 21, 2014

      Adaara

      I guess

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    • Anonymous

      Posted March 21, 2014

      Eren

      Well okay then. Bye

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    • Anonymous

      Posted March 11, 2014

      Megs

      With you by jessica simpson

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    • Anonymous

      Posted March 9, 2014

      To Hazzah

      Will you please post the words to Cupid's Got A Shotgun by Carrie Underwood?

      0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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    • Anonymous

      Posted March 8, 2014

      To Hazzah

      Could you post the lyrics for Teams by Lorde and Chocolate by The 1975?

      0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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