It was a quiet morning in Indianapolis. But as I was enjoying coffee and listening to my wife's desperate attempts at piano, my phone rang and I was speaking to Kevin King.

Kevin King was the son of a long-time friend. He was a tall but rather thin fellow and worked as Room service in the Augustus Hotel in Miami. His father had helped me through my years through very specific methods. That guy also insisted him on police work, even teaching him martial arts and all about guns. But Kevin was undisciplined.