Tony Mandolin's past just came back to bite him.
Hard.
San Francisco's pickpockets are dropping dead, fingertips black with a toxin no morgue has ever seen. The money in their pockets is laced with enough poison to wipe out a city block. Someone is waging chemical warfare on the city's sleight-of-hand artists... and doing the taxpayers a favor.
Until the Vatican decides Tony is the real problem.
Turns out breaking up a child-slavery ring that reached into the upper floors of power—and Rome—puts a permanent bullseye on your back. The Jesuits didn't like the headlines. Now three-man hit teams in tailored black are stalking Tony through the fog, armed with suppressed pistols and the kind of blessings that don't come from the nice part of the Bible.
When the poison, the priests, and a very real warning about authentic New Orleans voodoo all point to the same impossible culprit, Tony realizes he's seen this case before... right down to the green-stained spleen in the autopsy photos.
Deja vu has never been this deadly.
With his seven-foot diva housemate Frankie, a zombie Cajun bartender who's picking up bad juju vibes, a wizard who's more hangover than hero, and a giant mystical crab who owes nobody favors, Tony Mandolin has to solve the unsolvable—again—before the next corpse on the slab is his.
