“The Dark does have its bright side.” Monroe, Grimm Centuries before we the people began forking out mega-bucks supporting alphabet law enforcement collections of slacker eaters of donuts, it was the private sector who kept society reasonably restrained. Dad was part of that proud, shadow private sector segment. As was Granddad and Great Granddad. Dad started me out early, because nobody worries about a kid with a cheap camera. I remember what I think was the first time Dad used my youth to infiltrate and get the shot. Mom tells it different. She claims Dad actually used me as cover when I was an infant. According to her, Dad put me in a baby carriage and pushed me past a secure building all the while snapping photos with a camera hidden under my blanket. He’d stop the carriage, fuss with my blanket, snap photos with just the lens sticking out then tuck the camera back under. Mom found out and Dad backed off putting his offspring to work for a number of years. While I don't remember the baby carriage episode, I do remember the first time Dad used me for a 'walk-through'. Walk-through, that's when you just walk by and try to snap a few photos, surreptitiously.

"... we both know the best villains have little or no profile at all." Ian Rankin “Again, it’s a miracle that more federal judges are not whacked.” John Grisham PROLOGUE Granddad stressed psychophysics as an investigative tool. He said to know a targeted person, to really start to understand that person, it was as easy as just watching that person’s eyes. Just provide a range of visual stimuli and watch the target's eyes. I was just a teenager with a brand new driver's license. Granddad would let me drive as he worked his private investigator gigs. The first couple of times out, driving Granddad around, convinced me about the whole concept of psychophysics. Granddad was investigating a potential Candidate for the position of Police Chief of Santa Barbara. The City Power-Brokers were paying. I tagged along as driver and chief note taker. Granddad set up in a parking lot across the street from the café coffee shop the Candidate frequented almost every morning. One of the nice things about Southern California is the vast abundance of want-to-be-actors on-tap. Young ones, old ones, retreads, Method actors, Meyerhold’s Biomechanics pretenders, Classical actors, and of course, Meisner devotees, all on tap at the drop of a hat. Well, almost immediately available with a single phone call. Granddad didn't tell them why or even for whom they were working. He didn't have to. The thrill of being paid, in cash, for a simple walk-on, was enough for the want-to-bees. Early every morning, for the first week, Granddad and I sat in his car and watched the Candidate's eyes as a broad representation, via the want-to-bees’ preferred methods of expression, of the human condition, paraded by the café windows, in front of the Candidate. Part of psychophysics is testing for the lower limits of what causes an individual to take conscious notice of the provided stimulus. Granddad was convinced that a person's eyes, at the instant of the lower limit stimuli, gave a snapshot on the person's subconscious attitudes. He was old-school. He believed that individuals couldn’t change their attitudes toward others but could modify their behaviors. He stressed that what we were doing was trying to see if the Candidate had predator-attitudes that he had successfully hidden via modifying his behavior to fit what he wanted others to see. We sat, binoculars glued to our eyes, as we watched from across the street, the Candidate's eyes, as the want-to-bees parade passed by.

CHAPTER 1 “In the beginning there was only Chaos. Then out of the void appeared Erebus, the unknowable place where death dwells, and Night. All else was empty, silent, endless, dark. Then, Love was born bringing along the beginning of order. From Love emerged Light, ….” greekmythology.com “Distal phalangeal fracture,” the too young Doctor stated, factually, as she pointed at my bare big toe. She glanced back at her computer screen. “Old injury.” I nodded. “Yeah. I don't remember doing it, the actual, ahh, event. But my Mother would tell the story about me, as a toddler, dropping Great Uncle Edger's model locomotive, either a Lionel or Märklin, the make changed each time she told the story, on my toe.” Uh oh, I getting ahead of myself. OK, let me start again. ... Mom, as in 'She Who Must Be Obeyed', had made it crystal clear. I was going to take advantage of our Heath Insurance Program's full medical exam and 'free' body scan. Part of her 'crystal clarity' was that I had no say in the matter. It had made me seriously think about giving up my rent-free living at home status. The small, semi-furnished, presently available, studio apartment just down the street from my favorite bar was looking better and better. A good deal better than sitting answering questions about the how and why of old injuries. In silence, I questioned 'why' it was so important to Mom that she'd have confirmation of me being a member of humanity. I did question though, in silence, for sure. Her demanding that she follow me in her car to the clinic and personally deliver me to the front desk, should have tipped me off to her motivation. Yup, it never dawned on me, at that instant in time, what she was plotting. Clueless, I dutifully sat as she filled out forms which she then allowed me to sign. Surprisingly, she didn't insist on accompanying me down the hallway to a small health clinic type room. The young woman, to my eye way too young to be a medical doctor, introduced herself as Doctor Hickok. Well, of course I asked about the OK Coral. Didn't even get a smile. All business, Doc Hickok. Yup, 'High Noon'.

An unreserved and incisive account of the career and personal life of the "King of Late Night" at the height of his fame and influence is shared from the perspective of his lawyer, wingman, fixer, and closest confidant.

PCMag.com is a leading authority on technology, delivering Labs-based, independent reviews of the latest products and services. Our expert industry analysis and practical solutions help you make better buying decisions and get more from technology.

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"Plunging into the complexities of Elizabethan history, Hess raises a host of provocative questions about Shakespeare's identity and the controversial character of the 17th earl of Oxford, the leading candidate for authorship honors. Wide reading informs his answers, and he doesn't shy from proposing linkages, motivations and ingenious theories to make sense of the historical records and answer the many questions about Oxford's life. His work on Don Juan of Austria may well prove to have opened a new perspective on that military leader's connection to Shakespeare." -Richard F. Whalen, author, Shakespeare: Who Was He? "The Dark Side of Shakespeare is an original and stimulating book that takes the authorship debate in unexpected new directions. Even those who reject its conclusions will find plenty to think about." -Joseph Sobran, author, "Alias Shakespeare"

NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • THE BOOK BEHIND SEASON TWO OF TNT’S THE ALIENIST • Dr. Laszlo Kreizler returns in a “whopping thriller” (The Washington Post) that showcases Caleb Carr “at his strongest” (USA Today). June 1897. A year has passed since Dr. Laszlo Kreizler, a pioneer in forensic psychiatry, tracked down the brutal serial killer John Beecham with the help of a team of trusted companions and a revolutionary application of the principles of his discipline. Kreizler and his friends—high-living crime reporter John Schuyler Moore; indomitable, derringer-toting Sara Howard; the brilliant (and bickering) detective brothers Marcus and Lucius Isaacson; powerful and compassionate Cyrus Montrose; and Stevie Taggert, the boy Kreizler saved from a life of street crime—have returned to their former pursuits and tried to forget the horror of the Beecham case. But when the distraught wife of a Spanish diplomat begs Sara’s aid, the team reunites to help find her kidnapped infant daughter. It is a case fraught with danger, since Spain and the United States are on the verge of war. Their investigation leads the team to a shocking suspect: a woman who appears to the world to be a heroic nurse and a loving mother, but who may in reality be a ruthless murderer of children. Once again, Caleb Carr proves his brilliant ability to re-create the past, both high life and low. Fast-paced and chilling, The Angel of Darkness is a tour de force, a novel of modern evil in old New York. Praise for The Angel of Darkness “A ripping yarn told with verve, intensity, and a feel for historical detail . . . Once again we are careening around the gaslighted New York that Carr knows, and depicts, so well.”—The New York Times Book Review “Gripping . . . Carr is at his strongest, exploring the dark underside of the human psyche and ferreting out the terrors and tragedies that drive men—and women—to kill. . . . In Libby Hatch, Carr has created a villain whose cunning is nearly equal to his detectives’ crime-solving prowess. . . . The mystery is plotted with military precision.”—USA Today “[A] whopping thriller . . . Carr keeps us racing along with him to the very end.”—The Washington Post Book World “Fascinating . . . In a brilliant bit of historical casting, Clarence Darrow, a rising courtroom wizard from Chicago, turns up to defend the villain at a tense upstate New York murder trial.”—Time