aw of America’s military, the more I wished I’d been a part of it when I was young, though I never changed my feelings about Vietnam. Bosch slowed his pace a bit so Edgar could renew his block-and-a-half lead. Davids liked my paper and said it was worthy of publication. Bosch looked at the clock, trying to gauge whether he had time for a smoke.
He had told her about her husband's death and they had stood in the same room they were in now, and she had talked. When I was in the White House, beginning in late 1993, I met with my old friend Taylor Branch about once a month to do an oral history. slant was the result of its being the work of an untrained hand; possibly a left-handed person printing with his right hand. He lit another cigarette and felt uneasy about the prospect of following the other detective but did it anyway.
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