Back on the job after an involuntary leave of absence, LAPD homicide detective Harry Bosch lands his first case: a Hollywood producer found in the trunk of his Rolls-Royce, shot twice in the head.  It looks like “trunk music,” a Mafia hit.

The LAPD’s organized crime unit is oddly uninterested, but Harry thinks they’re wrong.  He follows the money trail from the producer’s office to Las Vegas, where he quickly finds evidence of Mafia involvement.  But something about the case doesn’t add up, and Harry follows a string of odd clues — glitter in the producer’s cuffs, an over-the-counter medication in the Rolls’ glove box — in a different direction entirely.

Just when Harry thinks he’s on firm ground, the bottom falls out.  Blind sided again and again, at odds with his superiors, and overwhelmed by a romance that has cropped up in the middle of the case, Harry is as off balance as he’s ever been.  When the picture finally comes into focus, Harry discovers a scheme many magnitudes more deadly than he imagined—with himself now one of its targets.  Running on instincts and nerves, with a short fuse and everything to lose, Harry must prove himself not just by breaking the case, but by surviving it.