on the other side of town, a matra, the former jailer, raced to catch one time glams of -- glimpse of the man. clenching the fist full of flowers, he elbowed through a crowd of hundreds of friends, family, and admiring strangers and got beyond the row of bodies stacked in a line to be cremated. at last, the former prison guard made it to the coffin. his teenage son was just completing the final, and in the silence that followed, he placed what was left of the flowers on the feet of the fallen friend. he then helped roll the stretcher holding the father's body into the orange flames of the crematorium. overcome with grief, they muttered a friend, and praying on a grain is in the ashes, and i try to atone for my sin. if he was not unwashed in the sadness at the premature death of the unsung heros, there could have been the voice of him quietly besieging a higher power. who will show me the way in the world? >> this is an incredible amount of rich detail making hair stand on end. how difficult was it reporting the book? the backdrop was this insider trading scandal, and so, you know, you