The fifth book in the Dismas Hardy series, 1998

I owe thanks to a host of people who read the completed manuscript and to those who talked to me about their fields of expertise during the planning stages: Peter S. Dietrich, MD, MPH; Kay Schnieder of the Rush Alzheimer’s Disease Center in Chicago; Mary Beth Stamps, RN, MSN, associate director, Alzheimer’s Disease Center, UC, Davis; US Federal Judge William Shubb for his gracious assistance and introduction to the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals; Terri Nafisi for her insights into life in and around the court; Bob Lindell for a fascinating tour and history of the federal courthouse in San Francisco; Al Markel of the San Francisco Fire Department; my uncle, John E. Lescroart.

Al Giannini of the San Francisco district attorney’s office continues to be a brilliant analyst, a great friend and a true collaborator; his wife, Jan, kept the flame of the book alive when its author couldn’t feel the heat. Don Matheson must be black and blue from everything I bounce off him. Peter J. Diedrich is always there for a fact, a name, a date, an obscure reference, or general background material.

William P. Wood and Richard Herman, Jr., supplied a last, big epiphany; Karen Kijewski and Max Byrd are tremendous and ongoing psychic resources.

Finally, thanks to Jackie Cantor, my editor, confidante, and friend. And to Barney Karpfinger, without whom not.

To I, J., and L., Champions All

The past kept unraveling, tangled in an endless present. Afternoon sunlight slanted through the open window, warming the skin of the old man’s face, throwing into bright relief the two-day gray stubble. Salvatore Russo reclined in an ancient Barcalounger that he’d pulled over to catch the rays. God knows, balmy weather was rare enough in San Francisco. You took it when you could.