Prospect Park is no longer a democratic vista; it is a hell and purgatory of crime and no redemption. A once idyllic park reddened by the blood of wanton crime and ritualistic execution attempted by an upholder of the Law. Who is the derelict bum who has strayed into its now pathological confines? Who is the bum Rusty? The Talion Law grew out of my experience of twenty-five years as Director of the Youth Bureau of the District Attorney’s Office in Brooklyn, New York. I was aware daily of the mounting perplexities in the administration of criminal justice. I saw first hand the demoralizing pressures of overwork and shoddy compromise on the District Attorney and his staff causing a psychological warping of good men. A Chief Assistant, a close friend of mine, broke badly. In an alcoholic haze he used to wander into Prospect Park. I fetched him home on two occasions. He died of pneumonia having slept in the boathouse on a bitter cold night. So I thought: what if my dear friend survived the cold and drink, and awakened in Prospect Park? What might have happened to him? A park ranger’s mount is slashed on a bridle path. Swans are strangled on the lake. A hit man invades the park looking for whom. An old birdwatcher tricks him into an empty bear pit at the zoo. Why does the eight-year-old Jorge befriend the bum who calls himself Rusty? What does the Mafioso Solemner have in common with the bum? The Talon Law is rich in uncoaxed metaphors. The original aim of the park becomes a metaphor for the salvation of James Boerum.