Drama City

recognition and surprise off his face when the sergeant asked him if he knew of a guy named Melvin Lee. Rachel Lopez, Peterson said, had been stabbed in Lee's apartment. A neighbor on the third floor had heard her screams.

'But the neighbor didn't call the police,' said Peterson. 'Rachel did. She had a cell on her. I guess she regained consciousness, at some point, long enough to do that.' Peterson stared through the glass like he was watching her struggling to hold the cell in her trembling hand, struggling to make the call. 'I saw her arrive here myself nearly two hours ago. She lost a lot of blood.'

Lorenzo had already told Sergeant Peterson, in thumbnail, about his past and his relationship to Rachel Lopez. Peterson had asked him if he was aware that Lee worked for Deacon Taylor, the counterpart to Nigel Johnson in the Park View game. Lorenzo explained that he had been in prison for a while and no longer kept track of the local players or cared to know their names.

The interview questions softened, as did the eyes of Sergeant Peterson, as it became clear that Lorenzo had nothing to do with the attack and, in fact, considered Rachel Lopez to be a friend. Lorenzo had the feeling that Sergeant Peterson was a friend to her too.

Peterson said that Rachel's file, found in the apartment, contained Lee's employment information. An MPD unit had already gone to the car wash where Lee worked, but Lee had disappeared. His car, an old Camry, was still on the premises.

He wouldn't be in that car, thought Lorenzo.

'What you need to tell me now,' said Peterson, 'is that you don't know anything about this.'

'Nothing,' said Lorenzo.

'And you've had no dealings with Melvin Lee. You don't know where we could find him.'

'I don't know anything,' said Lorenzo, telling the lie as naturally as he took breath. 'I don't know Lee and I don't know where to find him.'

And if I knew, I wouldn't tell you.

Through the windshield of the patrol car, they both watched the ambulance pull away.

'You can go,' said Peterson.

'Is she gonna make it?'

'I don't know,' said Peterson. 'You want to help her, say a prayer.'

'I will,' said Lorenzo.

And someone, thought Lorenzo, needs to pray for me too. While they're at it, pray for the motherfucker who did this to my friend.

CHAPTER 22

Lorenzo Brown drove north. He parked the Tahoe in the court behind the Humane Society alley and went through the screened back door, past the cat kennel, and through the lobby without speaking to Cindy or anyone else. He took the stairs up to the second floor, keeping his footsteps as quiet as possible so as not to alert Irena Tovar to his presence. Her door, as always, was open. He did not look in that direction and went directly to his own office at the opposite end of the hall. Jerry, out on calls most likely, was not at his desk. Neither was Mark Christianson.

Lorenzo phoned Nigel Johnson, got his message box, and left his direct number at the office. He then found his report file from the previous day and the notepad on which he had written down the license plate numbers of the cars parked on the edge of Fort Dupont. The phone on Lorenzo's desk rang, and he lifted the receiver.

'Officer Brown.'

'Officer Brown. I like that.'

'Nigel. Need your help on something.'

'Go ahead, boy.'

'Black Holmes still in the cut, right?'

'Long as he breathin'.'

'And his mother works for Motor Vehicles, doesn't she?'

'Uh-huh.'

'You been good to Black?'

'You know I have. His mother gets an envelope every month.'

'I need her to run a plate for me.'

'Look, you're damn near police yourself. Don't you have a way you can get that done?'

'Not this time.'

'Okay. What do you need?'

'I got the car and the license plate. I need the address of the owner.'

'What car?' said Nigel, as if he already knew the answer and did not like it.

Lorenzo gave Nigel the plate number of the silver BMW and listened to silence on the other end of the line.

'You there?'

'Why?' said Nigel.

'I'm lookin' to find Lee and Miller.'