Michael Connelly

“A murder case is like a tree. A tall tree. An oak tree. It has been carefully planted and cared for by the state. Watered and trimmed when needed, examined for disease and parasites of any kind. Its root system is constantly monitored as it flourishes underground and clings tightly to the earth. No money is spared in guarding the tree. Its caretakers are granted immense powers to protect and serve it.

The tree’s branches eventually grow and spread wide in splendor. They provide deep shade for those who seek true justice.

The branches spring from a thick and sturdy trunk. Direct evidence, circumstantial evidence, forensic science, motive and opportunity. The tree must stand strong against the winds that challenge it.

And that’s where I come in. I’m the man with the ax. My job is to cut the tree down to the ground and burn its wood to ashes.”
― Michael Connelly

“Does this bother you?" he asked.

She turned around and looked at him.

"Does what bother me?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said. "I guess that she chose her own penance. She came here and went on missions and took care of children and all of that. Vow of poverty, paid off the mortgage, whatever. But she didn't turn herself in and say, 'I'm responsible.' She didn't tell all those parents how come their kids died."

He gestured to the box.

"She talks about redemption. But she chose all of this. Nothing was taken from her. You know what I mean?”
― Michael Connelly