The Concrete Blonde (hb-3)

was reading it, Belk went to the lectern and objected.
    “Your Honor, if this is offered as impeachment, I don’t see how it is valid. These are the words of a psychiatrist, not my client.”
    Chandler moved to the microphone and said, “Judge, if you look in the section marked Summary, the last paragraph is what I would like to be read by the witness. You will also notice that the defendant signed the statement at the bottom.”
    Judge Keyes read some more, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and said, “I’ll accept it. You may show it to the witness.”
    Chandler brought another copy up to Bosch and placed it in front of him without looking at him. Then she walked back to the lectern.
    “Can you tell us what that is, Detective Bosch?”
    “It’s a confidential psychological release form. Supposedly confidential, I guess I should say.”
    “Yes, and what does it relate to?”
    “My release allowing me to return to duty after the Church shooting. It is routine to be interviewed by the department’s psychiatrist after being involved in a shooting. Then he clears you to return to duty.”
    “You must know him well.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Ms. Chandler, that’s not necessary,” Judge Keyes said before Belk got up.
    “No, Your Honor. Strike that. You were cleared to return to duty-to your new assignment in Hollywood-after the interview, correct?”
    “Correct.”
    “Isn’t it true that this is really nothing more than a rubber-stamp process? The psychiatrist never holds an officer back from returning on psychiatric grounds?”
    “No on the first question. I don’t know on the second.”
    “Well, let me turn it around. Have you ever heard of an officer being held back by the psychiatric interview?”
    “No, I haven’t. They’re supposed to be confidential so I doubt I would hear anything anyway.”
    “Will you please read the last paragraph of the summary section on the report in front of you?”
    “Yes.”
    He picked up the paper and began reading. Silently.
    “Out loud, Detective Bosch,” she said in an exasperated tone. “I thought that was implicit in the question.”
    “Sorry. It says: ‘Through his war and police experiences, most notably including the aforementioned shooting resulting in fatality, the subject has to a high degree become desensitized to violence. He speaks in terms of violence or the aspect of violence being an accepted part of his day-to-day life, for all of his life. Therefore, it is unlikely that what transpired previously will act as a psychological deterrent should he again be placed in circumstances where he must act with deadly force in order to protect himself or others. I believe he will be able to act without delay. He will be able to pull the trigger. In fact, his conversation reveals no ill effects at all from the shooting, unless his sense of satisfaction with the outcome of the incident-the suspect’s death-should be deemed inappropriate.’“
    Bosch put the paper down. He noticed the entire jury was looking at him now. He had no idea whether the report was highly damaging or helpful to his cause.
    “The subject of that report is you, correct?” Chandler asked.
    “Yes, it’s me.”
    “You just testified that there was no satisfaction, but the report by the psychiatrist said you did feel a sense of satisfaction with the outcome of the incident. Which is right?”
    “Those are his words on the report, not mine. I don’t think I would have said that.”
    “What would you have said?”
    “I don’t know. Not that.”
    “Then why did you sign the release form?”
    “I signed it because I wanted to get back to work. If I was going to argue with him about what words he used, I was never going to get back to work.”
    “Tell me, Detective, did the psychiatrist who examined you and made that report know about your mother?”
    Bosch hesitated.
    “I don’t know,” he finally answered. “I didn’t tell him. I don’t know if he would have had the information previously.”
    He could hardly concentrate on his words, for his mind was scrambling.
    “What happened to your mother?”
    He looked directly at Chandler for a long moment before answering. She didn’t look away.
    “As was testified to earlier, she was killed. I was eleven. It happened in Hollywood.”
    “And no one was ever arrested, correct?”
    “That is correct. Can we go on to something else? This has already been testified about.”
    Bosch looked over at Belk who got the