Loose in the world, temporarily, due to his jail problem, persona non grata at the gallery, Jack starts a project photographing former dictators, 
Third World generals, and ex-strongmen washed up in Miami. There are a couple dozen of them around, tough mordant souls come down in the world. Maybe he can pick up pointers about sneaky killers, loose snake-eyed ravagers and such, his new métier or fixation, find a way to snare them. Unsolved murders fester in his soul. He goes from dictator to dictator asking questions, letting them tell their stories, arrange themselves in their nooks and cubbyholes for photos. He puts these spreads in one of the arts papers, among special-feature articles they enjoy running because he is an authentic jailbird, and the stories, as the features editor, an old high school friend, says, have a jolt to them.
