In this vivid depiction of the wiseguys and poor sods who drift through his flawed hero's bar, Con Lehane also shows us their modest hopes and dreams . . . There are no easy solutions in McNulty's world.

I get very cranky when interrupted. I snap at people, sigh dramatically and slam my door shut.

I came to writing mysteries through poetry and still think that a well-constructed mystery is very much like a well-constructed sonnet. Both are artificial forms. Both start off in one direction and then, with a twist of the concluding couplet/surprising ending, both reveal that they were headed somewhere different all the time.

A woman’s body doesn’t quit just because her heart breaks.