He was wearing a trenchcoat. He was knocking firmly on a door. When the door opened, he was saying, also firmly, “Good morning. I’m Detective Anastos. I’m here to solve the homicide for you.” That spiffy image didn’t survive the grittiness of the 4-oh, where he went from uniform into torn blue je...
There had been an unusually long intermission, nearly two years, but now the curtain was going up again. Once more the Litchfield green was covered with snow, and new flakes drifted heavily down past the tall schoolroom windows. Inside, there were some changes. At the threshold of the courtroom, ...