Jack leans on the garage door. Hard. Teddy's head looks like it might just pop off.
'All right, I did!' Teddy yells. 'But that is not an official confession. I was coerced.'
Jack lets up on the door.
'Who sent you?'
Teddy clamps his mouth shut.
Jack leans into it. Repeats, 'Who sent you?'
'Couple of Russian dudes.'
'You're Kazzy's butt boy. He's Armenian,' Jack says. 'What does he have to do with the Russians?'
'They own him. They took him over.'
'Nicky Vale,' Jack says.
'What about him?'
'You know him.'
'Never heard of no Nicky Vale.'
Jack leans on the door again. ' Nicky Vale?'
'I've heard the name,' Teddy says. 'I heard that kicked around. Some sort of boss. Boss of bosses. Capo de tutti capi godfather shit. Kazzy said he went away and now he's back.'
'Did you set the fire at his house?'
'No.'
But Teddy giggles. Much as you can giggle with a two-hundred-pound garage door on your neck.
'What's funny, Teddy Cool?'
Teddy actually laughs. 'We been workin' you, dumbass motherfucker. Cal Fire is our bish.'
'You've been waltzing through my files,' Jack says. 'Who you got inside Cal Fire?'
'Dunno.'
'Is it Sandra Hansen? SIU?'
'SIU. M-I–C. K-E-Y. M-O-U-S-E, I dunno.'
'Tom Casey?'
'Dunno.'
Jack leans down on the garage door.
'I don't know!' Teddy croaks. 'Splatter my brains all over the garage, Deputy Dawg. Sanitation comes and sprays 'em away tonight with a hose, I don't fucking know. Somebody, because we been working you, humpin' you. The Armenians, the Russians, they all been humpin' away at you, Jack.'
'You set the Scollins fire?' Jack asks.
'That one I might've done,' Teddy says. 'But you can't use any of this. You'll be in jail before I will.'
'Same old Teddy Cool,' Jack says. 'Toss in a bunch of soaked rags and a match. You never grow, Teddy. You never develop. I mean, here we both are in the same old place. You being a stupid, sloppy asshole and me whaling on your ass.'
Jack lets up on the door.
'Who gave the order to kill that old man, Teddy?'
'What old man?'
'Porfirio Guzman, twelve years ago.'
'The old beaner?' Teddy asks. Then looks up and smiles. 'Kazzy said his boss told him to. So Kazzy told me to. And you can't do a thing about it, Deputy Dawg.'
Problem is, Teddy Cool is right.
You can't do shit because you don't have shit.
You have a witness to Nicky moving furniture in and out the night of the fire. The same witness puts Nicky on the scene, contrary to his recorded statement.
But if you use the witness they kill the witness.
Deja vu.
You have the fake remnants.
Yeah, you have char samples, too. Look what happened with them.
You have the guy who made the fakes and he's dead.
All burned up.
Okay. You have two missing Vietnamese kids driving the stolen truck that picked up the furniture. And you have an attempted hit on the deputy who was investigating the missing kids.
And nothing to hook any of it to Nicky Vale.
Jack looks around the garage, sees a gas can.
Pours the contents around the floor as Teddy screams.
Jack pours the rest of the gas over Teddy's head. Some of it scatters and seeps down through the garage door.
Jack squats down next to him.
'What did Nicky do with the furniture?'
'What furniture?'
'Shit, where did I put my matches?'
'I don't know nothing about no fucking furniture!'
Teddy isn't lying. Teddy is too scared to be lying.
'Give me something, Teddy,' Jack says. 'Something I can use.'
Teddy's thinking it over. Jack can see that Teddy's weighing relative fears. His fear of Nicky Vale against his fear of burning alive. Jack knows he's going to win because the flame is immediate and the other is still abstract and Teddy doesn't have a good grasp of the abstract.
'Westview,' Teddy says.
'What?'
'What I got to give you,' Teddy says. 'I just hear Kazzy talking about something called Westview. Something he's got going on with Nicky Vale.'
Jack pushes the button and the garage door opens.
Teddy's boys are standing there with guns pointed. Three shotguns, two pistols, and a Glock.
'Good idea,' Jack says. 'Let's have a blazing gun battle. Barbecue Teddy Cool.'
'Put 'em down! Put 'em down! Put 'em down!' Teddy screams.
Jack walks through them to his car. Gets inside, opens the window and says, 'He sang like a little girl. What can I say, guys? He's still my bish.'
Starts the car and drives away.
Wondering, what the hell is Westview?
106
Nicky looks across the desk at Paul Gordon, who's sniffing the top of his cappuccino to make sure that it's nutmeg and not cinnamon.
That important task done, Gordon looks up at Nicky like, I'm ready for you now.
For his part, Nicky will be glad to leave the man's ego behind.
'Ready?' Nicky asks.
'I'm all yours.'
'Tomorrow morning,' Nicky says, 'Tom Casey will call to offer $50 million to settle my claim.'
Gordon freaks. In his wildest imagination he never dreamed that Cal Fire would go for the $50 million. He was counting on them turning it down. What the fuck good is Cal Fire if it suddenly gets smart?
'Don't worry,' he says. 'I'll turn it down. I'll find a pretext.'
Nicky shakes his head.
'You'll accept that offer.'
Gordon turns white.
