Hawk shrugged. We were in his car, parked on Linnaean Street across from Susan’s home.
“You afraid he’ll make a run at Susan?” Hawk said.
“If he’s learned enough he’ll know it’s the only thing he can blackmail me back with. He can’t come straight at me because he doesn’t know where the tape is.”
“You thinking ’bout reinforcements?” Hawk said. “Me and Vinnie gonna get spread pretty thin covering you ass and hers.”
“I’ve made some calls,” I said. “Until we get more feedback we’ll all cover Susan’s ass . . . so to speak.”
“Lot better-looking than yours,” Hawk said.
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Yeah, you do,” Hawk said.
A bald guy, maybe forty-five, in a black jacket and a blue shirt, came out of Susan’s front door and down the steps. I looked at my watch.
“Okay,” I said. “Fifty minutes, right on schedule.”
Five minutes later a young woman went up the stairs. She had on a gray jacket, unzipped, with a maroon sweater that ended four inches above her low-rider jeans.
“What you suppose her problem is?” Hawk said.
“Compulsive belly fl asher,” I said.
“Lotta that happening ’round here,” Hawk said. “You call Tedy Sapp?”
“I did.”
“Chollo?”
“Yep.”
“And?”
“Sapp’s out of the country. I talked to Mr. Del Rio. He said he could lend me either Chollo or Bobby Horse, but not both.”
“Chollo,” Hawk said.
“That’s what I told him,” I said.
“How ’bout the little dude from Vegas?” Hawk said.
“Bernard J. Fortunato,” I said. “Couldn’t locate him.”
“Last time he helped us out, he got shot up,” Hawk said.
“I know,” I said. “Probably deserves a bye on this one.”
“We got enough people anyway,” Hawk said. “Hell, Chollo come aboard, and we got them outnumbered.”
“You know it’s not your fi ght,” I said.
“Ain’t Vinnie’s fi ght,” Hawk said, “or Chollo’s either.”
“That’s right,” I said.
Hawk smiled.
“Any fi ght will do,” he said.
30.
Alderson came in with a big red-haired guy who looked like a tough hippie. Flannel shirt, work boots, beard. Halfway to the desk, Alderson stopped and stared at Chollo sitting on the couch.
“Who’s this?” Alderson said.
“My friend,” I said, “visiting from Los Angeles.”
Chollo was slender and medium height, with a ponytail. He looked with quiet amusement at the big red-haired guy.
“Why is he here?” Alderson said.
I pointed my chin at the big redhead.
“Protect me from the red menace,” I said.
“Him?” the redhead said.
“Oh, I’m scared,” the redhead said.
“May I talk freely?” Alderson said.
“Absolutely,” I said.
The redhead kept eyeing Chollo. Chollo paid him no further attention. In fact he seemed as if he might be about to nod off.
