I grew up on the streets of Detroit. As a youth, I was a petty criminal and did not do well in school. As I grew older, I realized I could use my knowledge of the streets to the benefit the city I loved. I became an undercover police officer (often portraying myself as a hustler from Buffalo), and I specialized in narcotics and illegal tobacco transactions. I likely would have never left this life if it were not for the murder of my close friend, Michael Tandino.

He was my childhood friend. He had returned from California, where he had been a security guard, but had apparently now gotten wealthy by investing in German bonds. I was thrilled to see him. Laughing and drinking and playing billiards, we spent an entire evening catching up. It was glorious and tragic all at once. For once we returned to my apartment, two men surprised us, knocking me unconscious, and murdering Mikey.

It was clear that it was a professional hit. That is why I was still alive. I knew Mikey, and he no longer had enemies in Detroit. The killers must have followed him from Los Angeles. I had to find out who they were! Thus I demanded that my Chief allow me to investigate this heinous crime, but he refused saying that I was too close to it. I couldn't be objective. In frustration, I then asked for a vacation. I had no intention of catching any sun, however. I planned on returning to California to avenge my friend and find the truth.