Hell on Earth
If I were to ever write a book about any case I ever tried as a prosecutor, it would be about a murder that happened at the Roadrunner Inn around 2002 or 2003. It wasn't a headline grabbing case by any stretch of the imagination. It wasn't particularly shocking or gruesome, either. It just always fascinated me because of the people and circumstances involved in the case -- the victim, the defendants, and the witnesses were all so unique and the lifestyle that went on around the Roadrunner was like watching an episode of HBO's The Wire . The victim in the case was an unusual man named Lonnie, who went by the name of Bonsai. He was a Jewish man from the Northeast. His sister told me that he had worked for Motown Records back in the 1950s. As he grew older, he disconnected from society and became virtually homeless. He drifted from town to town and fleabag motel to fleabag motel. He made money for rent and drugs by selling bonsai trees -- hence the nickname. A few