"San Quentin…?" Steve was staring at his partner from under raised eyebrows. "You want to go to San Quentin?"

Swallowing heavily, Mike nodded.

"You do know the both of us aren't supposed to be going anywhere, right?"

"I know…"

"And you want us to go to San Quentin…?"

Nodding again, the older man shrugged beseechingly.

"Why?"

With an almost comical grimace, Mike wagged his head from side to side, "Ah, well, that hunch I had…?" The younger man nodded. "Well, that's where the hunch is…"

Steve sat back slightly. "That's where the hunch is…?"

Mike nodded quickly again.

"I'm going to need more details, Lieutenant."

Snorting a short, sharp laugh, Mike cleared his throat. "Well, um, I was thinking about how Lonsdale got out of the country back in '49… and of course the first thing that comes to mind is he had to have had a false passport and maybe other I.D., right? And he had to have gotten them somewhere, right…?"

It was Steve's turn to shrug. "Didn't they follow up on that at the time?"

"Well, as far as I could remember, and going over the file on Lonsdale again confirmed it, they did a… cursory investigation, to be kind, into it but didn't pursue it. They knew that Lonsdale was in the Philippines and there was no way they could get him back, so they just let it drop. I guess they had a lot of other cases at the time…" He raised his eyebrows with a facial shrug.

"So what's Quentin got to do with all that?"

Warming up to the subject, Mike leaned forward slightly. "Well, I remembered there was this really amazing forger that was working in The City back in the early 50's. I remember hearing about him at the time, while I was still walking a beat, and I knew he'd been caught and sent away. But you know how short felony sentences are and he got out and came back to The City and set up shop again.

"Well, it didn't take long for our paths to cross. I arrested him once in '63 for distributing fake driver's licenses but his shyster lawyer got him off. But three years later, I nabbed him again for counterfeiting and he got two years. In Quentin."

"And he's still there?" Steve sounded incredulous.

"Of course not," Mike growled, shaking his head in feigned irritation and the younger man chuckled. Rolling his eyes, the older one continued, "Anyway… I had Bill get those files for me because I wanted to make sure I was on the right track. I wanted to make sure Kovalev did the kind of forgery that Lonsdale and his folks would need to disappear – drivers licences, social security cards, that kinda thing. And I was right, that's his specialty."

"So why Quentin then?"

"Because he got out after that 60's conviction but he's been caught twice since then and this last time, the judge said 'that's it, he's not getting out again'. He's been in ever since."

"And you want to talk to him?"

"And I want to talk to him."

"And you think he'll confirm that he forged documents for the Lonsdale family?"

"Well, I'm hoping to convince him he has nothing left to lose if he tells me, and I'm also hoping that, if he did do it, he might remember what new names he gave the parents."

Steve sat back slightly, staring at his partner with a soft smile. "I like the way your mind works, Lieutenant."

Smiling warmly, Mike nodded. "Yeah, I sometimes like the way it works too," he chuckled.

"Ah, but there is one problem, right? Like I said, we're not supposed to go anywhere. I believe you even promised… remember?"

Mike grimaced. "Yeah, I know… that is a problem…" He looked at the younger man pleadingly.

After a couple of silent seconds, Steve sighed heavily. "When do you want to go?"

With a sudden, happy grin, Mike asked, "You got your badge and gun with you?"

Steve nodded. "They're in my bag."

"Good." Mike started to get up. "You got something to wear besides that t-shirt and jeans?"

Steve looked down at himself. "Ah, no, I didn't think –"

"Then we'll stop by your place and you can change. It's sorta on the way…" He headed towards the stairs. "I'll be back down as soon as I can."

As his partner disappeared up the stairs, Steve looked down at the files on the table and exhaled loudly. There was no way they were going to get away with this, he thought with amused helplessness.

# # # # #

"The suit and the hat don't really go with the beard, you know," Steve observed casually as he glanced across the front seat.

With a self-conscious chuckle, Mike reached up and ran his right hand over his hairy chin. "I know, but I said I wasn't going to shave it off till we had Lonsdale in custody again and that's what I'm gonna do." He looked at his partner. "So, ah, what do you think?" He gestured vaguely at the dashboard.

"The car? It's great, it really is. Personally, I think it's a real step up from the last one."

"Yeah, I think so too," Mike admitted quietly. "How does it handle?"

"Easy… you gotta like that power steering."

"Yeah... I'm looking forward to getting behind the wheel myself."

"Won't be too long," Steve added encouragingly.

Traffic had been fairly light and it didn't take much time to get up the 101 to Point San Quentin. Mike had called ahead so they were expected and, after checking in and turning over their firearms, they were led to an interview room.

A few minutes later, the far door opened and a small, thin, grey-haired man with sparkling blue eyes almost bounded into the room, followed by a tall black uniformed guard. With a nod at the two detectives, the officer watched as the prisoner sat on the cold metal chair on the near side of the table, lacing his fingers as he put his forearms on the table and leaned forward with an unexpected eagerness.

Mike glanced up at the guard and nodded. Returning the nod, the officer stepped backwards out into the corridor and shut the door.

Kovalev's eyes narrowed as he stared at the older cop, his glance flicking briefly to the fedora sitting on the table and back again. He started to smile. "I know you," he said slowly, "you arrested me a couple of times…" He unclasped his hands and snapped his fingers. "Stone… Sergeant Stone, isn't it?"

Mike smiled. "Well, it's Lieutenant now…" he answered pleasantly.

Kovalev's smile turned into a confused frown, his stare taking in the empty left sleeve and obviously bandaged shoulder. "What, you get shot or something?"

"Car accident."

"Oooo," the felon winced in sympathy. "That why you got the beard? You been on sick leave?"

"Something like that." Mike shifted in the hard chair, leaning forward slightly and nodding to the man beside him. "This is my partner, Inspector Keller."

As the wary blue eyes snapped in his direction, Steve nodded and Kovalev nodded back. The forger laid his hands flat on the table and took a deep breath. "Ah, so why the visit, Lieutenant? Not that I mind, you know… I don't get many visitors…"

"Stanley, we need help with a very important old unsolved case, and I was hoping we could pick your brain."

"What kinda old case?"

"A murder. I'm in Homicide now, have been for years. And there's a case from way back in '49 that's never been… resolved that I'd like to close the book on."

"And you think I can help you?" Kovalev asked, his eyes darting back and forth between the partners. They both nodded. "How?"

"Lonsdale," Steve said flatly, staring unblinkingly at the man across the table. "Does that name ring any bells with you?"

His gaze turning inwards, Kovalev slumped in the chair slightly. After a few long beats he screwed up his face and shook his head vaguely. "It… it sounds familiar but… I'm not sure…" He looked at Mike. "You think I did some work for this guy?"

Nodding slowly, Mike stared at him. "Yeah, maybe… He changed his name to Daniel Harrison. Does that sound familiar?"

Kovalev shook his head. "When would that be?"

"Summer of '49."

"Jeez, I was just getting started then… I didn't have much of a… a clientele, I guess you could call it. What kinda things were you thinking of?"

"A passport for sure."

"Oh, I didn't start doing passports till about '53. I was only doing driver's licenses and social security cards then. Passports were a lot trickier."

Mike had glanced at his partner and a tiny smile appeared.

"Do you remember anyone doing passports back then?"

Kovalev inhaled noisily through his teeth. "Ah… yeah, I remember one guy… a Mexican guy used to live on Pine. He was a genius at that kinda stuff, I learned a lot from him."

"He still around?"

"Nah. Nah, he died about ten years ago."

Mike leaned forward and pinned the small man with an unblinking stare. "Do you remember if you ever made any drivers licenses or social security cards for a middle-aged couple named Lonsdale in late '49 or '50?"

"What, like a married couple? Like this guy's parents?"

Both cops nodded.

Kovalev inhaled deeply again. "Well, I can't be a hundred percent sure but it's entirely possible." He chuckled. "I've done so many over the years, I can't remember them all, you know."

Two pairs of eyes stared at him expectantly.

"Can, ah, can you tell me why?"

Mike glanced at his partner and sat back slightly. Then, as clinically as he could, he relayed to Kovalev the broadest details of the Larson/Lonsdale case, of the initial arrest and subsequent flight, and the most recent arrest and escape. He finished with the hope that they might be able to track down Lonsdale's parents by discovering the names they had been living under for over twenty years.

Kovalev had sat back, his hands in his lap and his head down. He didn't say a word for several long beats after Mike had finished, then he raised his head. "I wish I could remember, I really do. I'd help you catch the little bastard in a heartbeat if I could." He sighed sadly. "I never helped anyone who was running from the law for something like murder, you gotta believe me. At least never deliberately. I turned a lot of murderers away over the years, you understand." He looked desperately from one cop to the other, hoping they would take him at his word. The older one eventually nodded.

Drawing another deep breath, he said quietly, "But yeah… I can help you…"

Both detectives sat up a little straighter. Mike leaned closer to the table. "How?"

Kovalev had dropped his head and was looking at the veteran detective from under a lowered brow. "Ain't nobody knows about this but me…" he began softly. "I, ah… I saved everything…"

Mike felt his heart thud in his chest and blood pound in his ears. He swallowed heavily.

Kovalev raised his head. "From the time I started, I saved it all. When I got caught the last time, I wasn't stupid. I knew I was probably going away for the rest of my life… So I gave it all to someone… someone I trusted…"

"Who?" Mike asked in a whisper.

The small lifer smiled wistfully. "My sister… she lives in Walnut Creek with her husband… There's boxes in her basement… A lot a boxes… I was very thorough." He smiled slightly. "She doesn't know what's in them… Nobody does but me…" He looked the lieutenant in the eye and clenched his jaw. "If there's anything about this... this Lonsdale and his parents in those boxes, it's all yours…" He leaned forward and put his clasped hands on the table again. "I'll give you her address…"