The frontier came alive, the realization that in the 1950s, despite the veneer of sleek cocktail bars of a new Alaska, Fairbanks still pulsated with rhythms that echoed from the old goldmine days, not so distant a memory for many old-timers. And as the trappers and prospectors and wandering loners drifted down into Fairbanks, often old crippled men now, they brought with then not only fantastic stories but also long-held grievances, angers, and the desire for revenge. Perfect for the mystery writer—there is always a good murder at the end of such a history.