A silver gray Volvo sedan was parked at the curb.
“You pretty close,” Hawk said. “A preppy pimp. Can’t count on nothing out here.” He got in the driver’s side. I put the briefcase on the backseat and got in beside him and we rolled out onto Mission Street.
“First we eat,” Hawk said. “Then what?”
“Mill River,” I said. “I want to take a gander at Jerry Costigan.”
“You like buffalo stew?” Hawk said.
“Certainly. And Cleveland stew and Detroit stew…”
“No. Buffalo meat. There a place up on Van Ness serve buffalo stew, we slip in, eat some, slip out, and head for Mill River.”
“And if the cops show up,” I said, “we can circle the wagons.”
We locked the briefcase in the trunk of the Volvo and went into Tommy’s-Joynt and ate buffalo stew. Buffalo stew tastes very much like beef stew. But there’s nothing wrong with beef stew. We each had a large bowl and sourdough rolls and a side of coleslaw and three bottles of Anchor Steam Beer. No cops came. No sirens blew. Warner Anderson and Tom Tully didn’t come in and put the arm on us. We finished our meal and went outside and got in Leo’s Volvo and headed south again toward Mill River.
Ten minutes out of the city I made Hawk stop the car and I threw up on the side of the road. When I got back in the car Hawk said, “You shot Leo to protect those whores.”
I nodded.
“Had to be done,” Hawk said.
“I know.”
“You’ll feel better in a while,” Hawk said.
“Better than Leo,” I said.
CHAPTER 11
WHILE HAWK DROVE I CANVASSED THE briefcase. Allie’s gun was a Colt .45 automatic with a full clip. That gave us four guns, but no spare ammunition. And each gun took a different load. If this took long we’d have to reorganize the arsenal. I kept my .25, put the .45 and the police .38 with one round spent into the briefcase. Then I counted the money. We were back on 101 south of the airport when I finished.
“Eleven thousand, five hundred and seventy-eight dollars,” I said.
“Eight bucks?” Hawk said. “Who pays a whore eight bucks? `Give you round-the-world for thirty-eight big ones, honey.‘ ”
“The pocket money from Allie’s wallet, probably,” I said.
“He look like a guy carries eight bucks,” Hawk said. I put the money back in the briefcase. Then I looked at the credit cards and licenses. There were three American Express cards, a Visa, two MasterCards, all in different names. There were licenses to match each name and a picture of Leo on each.
“You get some horn-rimmed glasses,” Hawk said, “and shave off that five-day growth you might get by using those cards and licenses. You preppy like Leo.”
“I’ll leave the beard,” I said. “They’ll think I’ve grown a beard since the picture and it will cover up the fact that I have a strong manly jaw and Leo’s is weak and unassertive.”
I put the credit cards back in the briefcase. “Remember where Mill River Boulevard is?” I said.
“Un huh.”
“Jerry Costigan lives off it on something called Costigan Drive in something called The Keep.”
“The Keep?” Hawk said.
“The Keep.”
“The more money you honkies get,” Hawk said, “the sillier you get.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Didn’t you grow up in a place called The Ghetto?”
“Shit,” Hawk said. “You got me.”
“See, you intolerant bastard.”
Hawk drove quietly for a moment and then he began to laugh. “Maybe I move to Beverly Farms,” Hawk said, “buy a big house call it The Ghetto.” He made ghetto a two-word phrase.
“The Wasps would turn lime green,” I said.
“Match their pants,” Hawk said.
The sun was beginning to set as we pulled off Route 101 and the slant of its decline hit the rear view mirror and Hawk had to tilt his head to keep from being blinded. We went the wrong way on Mill River Boulevard on our first try and had to U-turn and head back before we spotted Costigan Drive. Hawk pulled over to the side of the road and we sat with the motor idling and looked.
There was a redwood sign that said PRIVATE DRIVE, in gold lettering. The road curved up past it into a canyon. There were no mailboxes, no evidence that anyone else lived up the road. The hill into which the canyon cut was wooded and quiet. Not even birdsong broke the silence.
“Let’s walk in,” I said.
