The First Rule

by Robert Crais

“They followed me earlier today. They know I’m trying to find Darko, so now they believe someone in Yanni’s complex has information about him. They will look for that person.”

  Rina and Yanni launched into more Serbian, and Yanni didn’t look happy. Cole turned away as if he had heard enough foreign-language conversations to last a lifetime.

  “You want something to eat?”

  “Not yet. Did you find anything running the check on Darko’s condominiums?”

  “Yeah. They’re not his condos—not in his name or any name I’ve been able to connect to him. This guy is hidden, man—he does not exist, so he’s almost certainly here illegally.”

  Cole ticked off the points.

  “No one named Michael Darko appears in the DMV, the Social Security rolls, or the California state tax rolls. No one by that name has an account with any of the major credit card companies, the public utilities here in Los Angeles County, the telephone company, or any of the major cell service providers. Michael Darko has no criminal record that I’ve been able to find.”

  Rina said, “In Serbia. In Serbia, he was arrested. This I know.”

  Pike thought over what George told him about how the old-school Serb gangsters tried to instill fear by creating a myth for themselves. The Shark. Here, then gone, like an imagined man. A monster his men talked about, but never saw.

  Pike shrugged.

  “He’s just another turd.”

  Cole said, “A smart turd. His hookers rent their condos in their own names. Darko supplies them with a credit and rental history so they look good on the application, and kicks back cash to cover their rent, but they have to write the checks. Same with their phones, and other expenses. Everything is in their names, and they pay the bills. That way he avoids a paper trail to the girls.”

  Rina said, “Yes. That is why we follow the money. The money will give us the man.”

  Cole nodded.

  “He has women spread from Glendale to Sherman Oaks. A collector stops by every day to pick up their cash.”

  Pike glanced at Rina.

  “You know the man who picks up the money?”

  “I will know him to see him unless the man change. He will be there between four and six. This is always the way. The girls, they have their money from the night before, but their money from the day is better.”

  Pike said, “Will he know how to find Darko?”

  She shook her head, making the expression she made when she thought Pike was a moron.

  “No, no, no. He is an outcast.”

  Pike and Cole traded a look, not understanding.

  “Why is he an outcast? He’s being punished?”

  Rina had a brief conversation with Yanni. When they stopped speaking Serbian, she tried to explain.

  “Outcast is like someone learning.”

  Cole said, “Starting at the bottom?”

  “Yes! The men who want to be accepted, but must prove themselves. The pakhan is the boss—that is Michael. Below him, his close friends are what we call the authorities. These are the men who make sure everyone do what Michael say.”

  Pike said, “Enforcers.”

  “Yes. They make the men obey. The men, they are the ones who do the work and earn the money. The outcasts help the men.”

  “Okay, so the guy who collects the money, he’s an errand boy. He brings the money to Michael?”

  “He brings it to his boss. Michael does not touch the money.”

  Cole said, “Then how do we find Michael?”

  She thought for a moment, then glanced at Yanni. Yanni mumbled some more, and Rina shrugged.

  “Depends on who the boss is. If boss is authority man, then maybe he know. If boss is only one of the men, then no. We won’t know until we see. Is like a sergeant, and Michael is a colonel. The sergeant does not talk to the colonel. He talks to the captain.”

  Pike looked at Cole.

  “Maybe there’s a way to turn this around. Maybe we can make Darko find us.”

  “Steal the money?”

  “Follow these people from business to business, and hit him. Hit him so hard he has no other choice.”

  Cole thought for a moment, then nodded.

  “Sounds like a plan. You ready for something to eat?”

  Cole stepped past him into the kitchen. Pike looked at Rina and Yanni. They whispered to each other in Serbian, and then Rina glanced over.

  “We will go to motel. Here smells like cats. It is making me ill.”

  Pike said, “Eat. I have a place you can stay. We’ll go after dinner.”

  He took his new phone and stepped out onto Cole’s deck.

  25

  THE NIGHT AIR WAS CLEAR, and chill, and the canyon below Cole’s home was quiet of man-made sounds. A wooden deck jutted from the back of Cole’s house, hanging out over the night-filled canyon like a diving board to nowhere. Pike went to the rail. The air felt good, and its clarity seemed to magnify the lights that fell away to the city. Out here on the deck, at the edge of the glow from within Cole’s home, Pike enjoyed the solitude.

  He turned to face Cole’s home, and leaned into the rail, the wide glass face of the house an invisible wall. Rina and Yanni were still huddled together on the couch, and occasionally glancing outside. Cole was in the kitchen, busy with cooking.

  Pike fished out the new phone, and called George Smith. He did not want to call, but he had to warn George about Walsh.

  George answered on the first ring, his voice as American as a Modesto car salesman.

  “This is George. Who’s calling, please?”

  “Williams was dead. Williams, and two of his crew. Jamal Johnson and Samuel Renfro.”

  George laughed.

  “Well, there you go. Justice is swift.”

  “Wasn’t me. Someone killed them the same night they murdered Frank.”

  “Ah, are you asking if I knew? I did not.”

  “Not asking. I thought you should know in case your friends in Odessa ask.”

  “Then muchas gracias.”

  “Something else you should know. The ATF was tracking my vehicle when I came by this morning. They might come around, knocking on doors.”

  George was silent for several seconds, and when he spoke, the Modesto tone was edged with something dark.

  “You brought them to my store?”

  “I don’t know. They were tracking my vehicle. They know where I parked, and how long I parked there. I don’t know if they had eyeballs on me or not.”

  Another moment’s silence.

  “Where did you park?”

  “A block north.”

  Another moment.

  “There are many shops within a block of my place.”

  Pike didn’t bother to say anything. George was shaking the facts to see if he could live with them, just as a terrier shakes a rat.

  Inside, Rina stood. She peered outside, trying to find Pike at the edge of the light, then said something to Yanni. Yanni gestured as if he were getting impatient with her, and wanted to leave.

  George said, “Why might they knock on doors, Joseph?”

  “Darko. They know I have inside information on the Serbians. They want my source. They’ll probably retrace my route today, trying to locate everyone I spoke with.”

  George suddenly laughed, giving it his best Modesto twang.

  “Why, hell, George Smith ain’t some Bosnian refugee. If they come around, I’ll tell’m you wanted a lamp. I’ll bet I can sell them a nice little sconce. Might even give them a discount.”

  George laughed again, and now Rina came around the couch and was heading for the deck. Pike would have to go, but he needed a favor from George.

  “One more thing.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I’m going to hit Darko’s business, and I want him to know it’s me. Maybe some people at Odessa can drop my name in the Eastern Bloc neighborhoods.”

  “This would put a target on your chest.”

  “Yes.”

 
George made a little sigh.

  “Well, we do what we do.”

  George hung up as Rina opened the door. She stepped out onto the deck as Pike put away his phone.

  She said, “It’s dark out here. Why do you stand in the dark?”

  Pike hesitated, wondering whether he should tell her what he had found in Willowbrook, and finally decided he should. He had been feeling the bib in his pocket as if it were a living thing, alive and pulsing, and wanting to come out.

  “Darko’s crew is dead.”

  She visibly stiffened, then joined him at the rail.

  “You found them?”

  “Yes. Men named Jamal Johnson and Moon Williams. Have you heard of them?”

  She shook her head.

  “Samuel Renfro?”

  She shook her head again.

  “They were killed the same night they took your son and murdered my friends.”

  Her mouth shrunk to a tight knot, and her eyes turned watchful.

  “Were Michael or my boy with them?”

  “No. But I found this.”

  Pike took the bib from his pocket, and once more marveled at its softness. As soon as he opened it, he smelled the apricots, even in the rich night air.

  Rina took it, and seemed to marvel at it just as Pike had marveled at it.

  “But nothing to say where’s the baby?”

  “No. I’m sorry, but no.”

  Her face folded into a frown, and she turned to face the canyon. Pike decided to feel her out about Jakovich.

  “I found another line I can follow—a man named Milos Jakovich. Do you know who he is?”

  She stared into the dark for a moment, then shrugged.

  “The old one. Michael, he work for him.”

  “Do they have business together?”

  “I do not know. The blood is not good.”

  “They don’t like each other?”

  “I don’t think so. Michael never tell me these things, but I hear. Like with his business. I am just whore.”

  She turned back toward the canyon, and Pike felt uncomfortable.

  “Maybe Jakovich or someone who works for Jakovich knows how to find Michael.”

  “I don’t know those people.”

  “Is there someone you could ask?”

  She worried the inside of her cheek, then shrugged again.

  “It is like a different family. I would be scared, I think.”

  Pike let it go, thinking she was probably right in being scared. If Jakovich and Darko were in some kind of war, she might find herself in jeopardy from both sides.

  Pike said, “It’s okay. Forget it.”

  “I will do it if you wish.”

  “Forget it.”

  They stood in silence, then she leaned over the rail to peer down into the black canyon.

  She said, “It is so dark.”

  Pike didn’t answer.

  “Do you have children?”

  Pike shook his head.

  “You should have children. You should make plenty of babies, and be a strong father.”

  Pike didn’t answer again.

  Rina held the bib to her nose, and Pike could feel her draw in the deep apricot smell and the scent of her child. She touched her belly where the knife wounds had scarred, as if the pain she felt then and now were linked, and he wanted to touch that place, too, but didn’t.

  Pike said, “We’ll find him.”

  “Yes. I know we will find him.”

  Rina leaned into him, and gazed up with shadowed eyes that seemed to be searching.

  “I would be with you. It is okay.”

  “You don’t have to be with me.”

  “Whatever you like, I will do.”

  Pike turned away.

  “Get your bag. I have a place where the two of you can stay.”

  Pike went out without eating, and took them away.

  26

  THE NEXT MORNING, Pike had Cole take him to check out the building in Sherman Oaks. It was a modern, three-story structure a few blocks south of Ventura Boulevard, across from a gourmet food store.

  Pike said, “How many prostitutes does he have in there?”

  “She says he had four, two on the top floor and two on the second, but that could have changed.”

  “The pickup happens between four and six?”

  “Yeah, but that’s only approximate. These people aren’t running an airline. We should set up early, plan on staying late, and be ready to wait a few days.”

  Pike expected no less.

  “It’s hunting.”

  “Yes. It’s hunting.”

  They circled the building to see the surrounding residential streets, and finished their tour in the food store’s parking lot. Pike noted the proximity to entrance and exit ramps for both the San Diego and Ventura Freeways. The location had been chosen so customers could be given easy directions. The prostitutes who worked here saw customers who came to them, and were known as in-call girls. Safer for the girls, and with a lower overhead for Darko. Out-call girls needed drivers and bodyguards.

  Pike said, “How many stops does he make before here?”

  “Three. Darko has buildings in Glendale, Valley Village, and this one. This was always the last stop.”

  “So he should be carrying the full day’s take.”

  “Should be. If this is still the last stop.”

  Pike was going to steal the money. That was the plan. He was going to steal Darko’s money, and leave the pickup man so scared he would run straight to his bosses. Then Pike would take whatever his bosses had, too.

  Pike said, “I’ve seen enough. Let’s go.”

  They would need Rina to identify the bag man, so Pike picked her up a little while later. He had brought them to an empty guesthouse a few blocks south of the Sunset Strip the night before. It was small, but nice, with a lovely courtyard and neighbors who wouldn’t pry. Pike had used it before.

  Rina was waiting on the street when he arrived. Yanni’s truck was parked at the curb.

  She said, “Yanni want to come.”

  Pike looked past her, and saw Yanni in the courtyard.

  “No Yanni. Forget it.”

  She barked something in Serbian, and Yanni gave Pike the finger.

  Pike brought her to Cole’s, where they reviewed the plans and maps of the location with Jon Stone. When Stone first arrived, Rina squinted at him, and tugged at Pike’s arm.

  “Who is this?”

  “A friend. He was a friend of Frank’s, too.”

  “I don’t trust these people I don’t know. I would rather have Yanni.”

  “Not for this, you wouldn’t.”

  At one-thirty that afternoon, they climbed into their cars and returned to Sherman Oaks, Pike and Rina in his Jeep, Cole in his Corvette, and Stone in his Rover. They looked like a caravan winding their way along the spine of the mountains.

  When they reached the market, Pike and Cole turned into the parking lot, but Stone continued past, moving to set up on one of the nearby residential streets. Pike found a parking spot in one of the middle rows facing the apartment building’s entry, and Cole parked three spaces away.

  Pike said, “You need to use the bathroom?”

  “No, I am fine.”

  “The guy who’s coming to pick up the money, does he know you?”

  “I don’t know. Probably he would know me, yes.”

  “Then let’s get squared away. Get in the backseat. You won’t be as easy to see in back.”

  She looked at him as if he was an idiot.

  “It’s only two o’clock.”

  “I know. But we want to be prepared in case he comes early.”

  She gripped her big purse. The one with the gun.

  “I don’t care if he see me or not.”

  “I care. Get in the back.”

  She scowled again, but got out, and climbed into the backseat. Pike adjusted the mirror so he could see her.

  “Can you see the entry?”

&
nbsp; “Yes.”

  “Watch.”

  “It’s only two o’clock. Will be hours before he come.”

  “Watch.”

  He expected her to fidget or try to make conversation, but she didn’t. She sat behind him, a second presence in the car, quiet and still, watching.

  They watched for an hour and ten minutes, silent, as people came and went around them, parking, backing out, pushing buggies filled high with groceries. Rina did not move or speak for the entire time, but then she suddenly pulled herself forward, and pointed past his chin.

  “That window on the top floor, on the side there away from the freeway. That was mine.”

  Then she settled back and said nothing more.

  Pike studied her in the rearview, but only for a moment. He didn’t want her to catch him staring.

  An hour and twenty minutes later, she abruptly pulled herself forward again.

  “That girl. She is one of the girls there. In the green.”

  A young woman in black spandex shorts and a lime green top came around the corner and went to the glass door. Her dark hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, and a large gym bag was slung over her shoulder. On her way back from the gym. She was lean and fit, but her breasts were too large to be natural. She looked very young.

  Rina said, “You see? I know this girl when they bring her here. They make her waitress, and then she dance.”

  “Stripper.”

  “Yes. And this.”

  The girl let herself into the lobby, then pushed a button for the elevator.

  Fifteen minutes later, Rina pulled forward again.

  “There. In the black car.”

  A black BMW convertible turned off Sepulveda and crept past the building as if looking for a parking place. The driver was a white male in his twenties with a thick neck and long, limp hair. He wore a white shirt with the sleeves rolled, a day-old beard, and mirrored sunglasses.

  Pike hit the speed dial for Cole.

  Three cars away, Cole glanced over as he raised his phone.

  “What’s up?”

  “The black convertible.”

  Cole glanced at the street.

  “I’ll get Jon.”

  Pike lowered the phone, but didn’t end the call. Cole was using a second phone to put Stone in the loop. They had planned on multiple phones to maintain constant contact.

  The BMW reached the stop sign, but instead of circling the building to park on the street, the driver turned into the parking lot.