by Robert Crais
Tobey gently chided him.
“Let’s not be stupid.”
“Stupid, stupid.”
The boys were right. If the Bolivians hadn’t fed the arrow dude information, then the guy was fuckin’ good. Way he showed up at the canal, way he popped up on the billboard—this guy was dangerous good.
Daniel picked up the woman’s phone, and looked at her. She was lying back there like she was dead. Daniel liked’m that way.
“Your fuckin’ boyfriend better call soon. I’m gettin’ anxious.”
She didn’t move. Not even a twitch. Just stared at him with these narrow, watchful eyes. Like she was thinking.
Daniel jiggled the phone, and smiled at her.
The deader the better.
38
Both ends of Azzara’s street were blocked by black-and-white radio cars when Button and Futardo arrived. By then, LAPD barriers and yellow crime-scene tape ran from the house to the street, and Hector’s Monte Carlo was hidden by a collapsible screen. Hollywood Station owned the crime scene, but the Malevos Pacificos and Venice Trece belonged to Button.
Button hammered Pike and Cole with questions as they walked through the scene, but Pike wanted him focused on Azzara.
“We believe he returned here from the airport because his car is missing. He drives a black Prius. Get his tag, and put it out to patrol.”
“Did Azzara kill these people?”
Cole said, “We told you who killed them. Azzara probably has Rainey, and one or both of them can probably help find Rose Platt.”
Cole showed them William Rainey’s booking photo.
“I wrote Rainey’s file number on the back. Call the Louisiana Department of Justice. They’ll back up what we’re saying.”
Button’s jaw worked as he stared at the photo, but he handed it to Futardo.
“Call down there and see if you can find someone who knows about this.”
Futardo started away, but Button stopped her.
“Hang on—before you call, pull Azzara’s DMV and give it to the patrol commander. Tell him Azzara is a suspect in a multiple homicide. Tell him I’ll call him as soon as I can.”
She started away again, but he stopped her again.
“Futardo. They give you any shit down in Louisiana, bring me the phone.”
This time he let her go, and turned back to Pike.
“Twelve fucking million dollars, and this guy is making sandwiches in Venice?”
“Po’boys.”
As Futardo left, a Pacific Station gang detective named Eduardo Valenti waved them over to the banger by the coffee table.
“I know this one, too. Bobby Ruiz, aka Lil Rok.”
“One of Azzara’s people?”
“You bet. Born and bred Malevos over by Ghost Town.”
Valenti had already identified the banger by the kitchen island as a Malevos lifer named Trejo Hermanos, who was known as Crazy T.
Pike didn’t care who they were. The entire Los Angeles patrol division would now be looking for Azzara’s Prius, which was what Pike wanted, so now Pike wanted to continue the search himself. If Azzara had Rainey, then finding Azzara would give him Rainey, and Pike wanted Rainey.
Pike left Cole with Button and Valenti, and stepped outside to call Marisol.
“How’s Artie?”
“Hold on—”
She was probably with Artie, and had to change rooms to speak freely. She came back on the line a few seconds later, her voice soft so Artie wouldn’t hear.
“He’s better, I think. I checked his temperature like you said. It’s okay.”
“What about the blood in his urine?”
“Kinda pink, but not as much. I’ve been giving him cranberry juice. You think that’s okay, the cranberry juice?”
“Yeah. Sounds good.”
Pike waited while a Coroner Investigator went by on his way to a dead Federale. While Pike waited, he saw Straw enter the great room. Straw badged a uniformed officer, who pointed him toward Button. Then the CI was gone, and Pike continued with Marisol.
“I’m at Azzara’s house. That was a good address you gave me. It helped.”
“You are with Miguel?”
“No. Azzara isn’t here, but six people were murdered. Three of them are Malevos. It will probably be on the news, so I wanted you to hear about it from me, first.”
“I understand. Thank you.”
“Azzara took off with one of my friends when he found the bodies—a man from Louisiana. I need to find him.”
“I don’t know what to tell you.”
“People run home when they’re scared, and Miguel will be scared. If you hear something, will you call me?”
“May I ask you something?”
“Yes.”
“Did you kill them?”
“No.”
“Did Miguel?”
“No. A man who wants to kill my friends killed them. That’s why I have to find them first. Will you call?”
“Yes. Of course, I will call.”
“Stay with Artie. Watch his temperature.”
“You are a strange man.”
Pike closed his phone, then went to the chaise lounge where Dru Rayne had lain in the sun. He sat where she sat, and stared at her bottle. It was still on the deck. Dos Equis. Pike took out his phone and called her. Voice mail. He put away his phone, and thought over his options as he watched Cole, Button, Straw, and Valenti talking. Straw saw him and raised a hand, but Pike did not respond.
The call from Dru told him the killer would keep her alive until he had Rainey. By letting her make the call, he was using her as bait, but this didn’t mean he would kick back until Rainey showed up. He was a predator, so he would hunt. He was probably searching for Rainey even as Pike sat in the sun on Azzara’s chaise lounge. Pike felt confident he understood what the killer would do, but he was less certain about Rainey.
Pike wondered if Rainey would deal with the killer or run. Dru’s call suggested Rainey had the money, so Pike thought Rainey would probably run. Even if he wanted to stay, Azzara might not give him the choice. Whatever business Rainey had with Azzara and the Mexicans might force him onto a private jet.
Button came outside while Pike was thinking, and called him over.
“Stop sunning yourself and c’mere! Valenti has a question.”
When Pike went inside, Valenti said, “The guy who looked like a veterano , you said he had a ghost on his arm? Was it Casper the Friendly Ghost? You know that cartoon?”
“Yes. It was Casper.”
Valenti turned to Button.
“José Eschuara had a Casper. They called him the ghost because he’d sneak up behind people to shoot them—his vics never saw him.”
Cole said, “Creative.”
“Eschuara’s a big deal—a senior member in La Eme’s command structure in California. If Eschuara was here with the Federales—if these cowboys are really Federales—this was a high-level meeting. Way over Azzara’s pay grade.”
Button said, “Thanks, Eddie. Get us a picture of him. We’ll have Pike take a look.”
As Valenti walked away, Straw examined the dead cowboy on the couch.
“The person who did this is the same person who killed Mendoza and Gomer?”
“That’s how it tracks. Cole says he’s a Bolivian hitter. Rainey used to be in business with a Bolivian cartel.”
Straw frowned at Pike.
“These people are Rainey and who?”
“Rainey and Platt.”
Straw glanced from Pike to Cole as if he didn’t believe it.
“You’re sure about this?”
Cole said, “Positive. We had a vision.”
Button laughed, but Straw seemed annoyed.
“Did your vision show you where Mr. Rainey is?”
Button weighed in like he was tired of Straw’s questions.
“That’s what we’re doing here, Straw. We’re trying to find these people. This is all late-breaking news. We’ll know more when
we talk to the Louisiana FBI office. They have the case.”
Straw arched his eyebrows.
“Louisiana? Okay. I’ll give them a call. They’ll move faster for a fellow agent.”
“Thanks. We can handle it.”
Cole received a call on his cell, and moved away to talk. Straw watched him leave.
“I’ll talk to them anyway. They might like to hear about Cole’s vision. They also might have an ID on the lunatic who did this.”
Pike said, “Did you ask your men if they remembered anyone?”
“I did. They didn’t.”
Button frowned, suspicious that they’d had a conversation he knew nothing about.
“What are you talking about?”
“A picture of the killer. If he cased the sandwich shop, Straw might have him on video.”
“I’ll have my guys check, but I told you, we only set up on the bangers. Unless this guy cruised the shop when Azzara’s people were there, we won’t have him. And I don’t see how we’ll recognize him even if we have him.”
Pike had been thinking about it, and thought he knew how.
“Elvis has a security video from one of Rainey’s neighbors. Look at both of them. If the same person shows up on both recordings, he’s our guy.”
Button said, “That’s a pretty good idea, Straw. Makes sense.”
Straw turned away to call his guys, and Pike went over to Cole.
“I’m going to look for Dru.”
Cole nodded, telling whoever was on the phone to hold on.
“Where?”
“Venice. I’ll start at the body shop.”
“Okay. I’ll call you if I get anything.”
Pike turned away, then stopped.
“Thanks for not telling me her name is Rose.”
Pike left before Cole could answer.
39
Pike did not think Azzara would go to the body shop, but it was his last best place to start looking. La Eme gangs were families. If Azzara wanted a different car or help getting out of the country, he would go to someone he trusted.
Pike spent thirty-five minutes driving to Venice, and was still five minutes from the body shop when Elvis Cole called.
“Where are you?”
Pike told him where he was going and why.
“Don’t bother. Azzara and Eschuara are dead.”
Pike took his foot off the gas and steered toward the side of the street.
“Rainey?”
“No sign of Rainey. They were found five minutes from here on a side street off Doheny. Shot.”
“The Bolivian?”
“I’m heading there now to take a look, but it sounds like Rainey killed them. They were shot with a large caliber—at least a nine millimeter. The vics at Azzara’s were shot with a twenty-two. Hang on—”
Pike heard a voice in the background that was probably Button, then Cole came back on the phone.
“I guess Rainey and the bangers couldn’t agree on a plan. Looks like he shot them, pushed them out of the car, and took off. There’s no sign of the Prius.”
Pike thought for a moment, trying to decide what to do.
“Did Button get through to the investigators in Louisiana?”
“Yeah. They’re going to email some things.”
“Do they have the executioner’s picture?”
“Uh-uh. They’re sending what they have, but there isn’t a picture.”
“Keep me advised.”
Pike closed his phone. It had been reasonable to think someone at the body shop would hear from Azzara, but now Azzara was dead, so Pike focused on Rainey. With twelve million dollars, Rainey could have homes, apartments, and cars stashed all over the city. He might even be sailing out of the marina as Pike sat on the side of the street.
Pike thought about how Dru called him, but had been pretending to call Rainey. If she had never reached Rainey, he might not know the Bolivian had her.
Pike dug out Rainey’s cell number and gave it a try. The phone rang once, then immediately went to voice mail. Pike closed his phone, then had a follow-up thought, and dialed Rainey’s number again.
This time when the voice mail answered, Pike left a message.
“He has her.”
Pike left his number, then phoned Cole.
“Is Straw still at Azzara’s?”
“He left before us. He’s going to check their video and compare it to the disk we got from Laine. That was a good idea.”
“He’s doing that now?”
“Yeah. It’s going to take a long time. He wanted to get started.”
Pike decided to offer his help. He drove directly to Straw’s stakeout across from Rainey’s shop. The shop was now busy with police, but Pike ignored them. He went through the tattoo parlor as he had before, and once again climbed the rear stairs.
No one answered when Pike knocked. He knocked harder, then tried the knob and found it unlocked.
The two-room office suite was empty. The bedding and trash bags and gear were gone. Even the black sheet with its rectangular cuts was missing. The shakedown crew had moved on, and taken their video with them.
Pike ran back to his Jeep for Straw’s number, and called.
“Jack Straw.”
“Where are you?”
“Who is—Pike, is that you?”
“What’s going on with the video?”
“I have a man going through it right now.”
“Straw, I’m at your stakeout. It’s empty.”
“You need to relax, Pike. We closed that place down. The shakedown op is history. Most of my crew is already on their way home.”
“Louisiana doesn’t have a picture of the Bolivian.”
Straw was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was measured.
“I know they don’t. I spoke with an agent down there twenty minutes ago. So I’ve got Kenny looking at the recordings right now. If he sees anyone who looks suspicious—anyone who even remotely might be our guy—he will let me know. You better settle down, man. You sound like you’re losing it.”
Straw hung up.
Kenny. One man to look at hundreds of hours of video.
Pike settled back, and scanned the surrounding buildings and the gawkers on the sidewalks outside Rainey’s shop. Rainey probably wouldn’t return, but you never knew—Rainey had been running for years, but this time he hadn’t. Rainey had broken his pattern, and people never changed without a very good reason. Instead of running again, Rainey and Dru had moved in with Azzara, but left several things at Brown’s house, suggesting they felt the move would be temporary and they planned to return. Maybe Rainey left something at the house he needed before he would leave.
Pike drove to the house. The police had blocked the surrounding streets, so Pike left his Jeep on the boulevard and tried to cross the pedestrian bridge. The police had blocked the footbridges at both ends of the alley, so Pike found himself with three neighborhood women and six children at the construction site where Gomer had been murdered. They watched the activity as uniformed and plainclothes officers searched Brown’s house.
Pike spent little time looking at the police. Gawkers had gathered at the bridges and bike paths, and residents with a view of the scene were in their backyards. Pike searched the faces for Rainey, but knew the Bolivian killer might also be among them. If the killer was still hunting for Rainey, he might return to the house for the same reasons as Pike.
Pike found Lily Palmer’s card in his wallet, and called.
Jared answered, his voice low and dull.
“Hullo.”
“It’s Pike. Remember?”
Jared perked up.
“Oh, man, you should see this place. The cops are everywhere.”
“I know. I’m across the canal.”
“No shit? Man, did you know? Wilson and Dru are criminals. Did you know that?”
Jared came out to the edge of their pool and waved when he saw Pike.
“Hey, dude, there you a
re! I see you!”
Pike said, “Has anyone been next door?”
“At Steve’s place?”
“Yes.”
“Dude, look at it. The place looks like a cop convention.”
“Not now. Before the police.”
“Right, yeah, the cops asked that, too. No, uh-uh, I didn’t see anyone.”
“Not just today. What about yesterday and last night?”
“Nada, man.”
“Did you hear anything?”
“No, dude. And you know me—all eyes all the time. No evil shall escape my sight.”
“Get something to write with. I’m going to give you my number.”
“Sure, dude. Hang on.”
Jared jogged into his house, and reappeared a few moments later.
“Okey-doke, we are ready to copy, Houston.”
Pike recited his cell.
“If you see anyone next door after the police leave, I want you to call me. Will you do that?”
“Sure, dude. We’re supposed to call the cops, too.”
“That’s fine. Call them, but call me, too.”
“You got it, bro. No problemo.”
“And Jared—do you have alarms on your house?”
“Yeah.”
“Lock up tonight. Don’t leave any windows or doors open. Lock it and arm up.”
“Dude, you are freakin’ me out. Wilson’s cool with me. We joke around.”
Pike wasn’t thinking about Rainey.
“Lock up, Jared. If you see someone or hear something, call 911, then me. Tell your mother. Give her my number.”
The excitement left Jared’s voice.
“Yes, sir. I’ll tell her.”
Pike closed his phone.
Jared stared at him for a moment, then waved again and walked slowly back into his house.
Pike studied the near bridges and surrounding houses. If Rainey showed up because he wanted to enter the house, he would leave, but return later when the police were gone. Pike had nothing else, so he settled in to wait.
Forty minutes later, Pike’s attention was drawn when two men stepped from the crowd at the head of the pedestrian bridge. Special Agents Straw and Kenny showed their badges to the officer blocking the bridge, who immediately let them pass. They disappeared when they reached the end of the bridge, but Kenny reappeared a few minutes later in Rainey’s backyard. Pike wondered why he was here with Straw instead of checking the video.
