second word right above their eyes. Shithead. Etch it into their skin
with acid just like they did to your glass. Make em walk around like
that for a couple of years and see how their attitude improves before
maybe we give them some plastic surgery.'
'You think you can find who did it?' Arkadian asked, though he surely
knew the answer.
Luther shook his head, and Jack said, 'Not a chance. We'll file a
report, of course, but there's no manpower to work on small crime like
this. Best thing you can do is install roll-down metal shutters the
same day you replace the windows, so they're covered at night.'
'Otherwise, you'll be putting in new glass every week,' Luther said,
'and pretty soon your insurance company will drop you.'
'They already dropped my vandalism coverage after one claim,' Hassam
Arkadian said. 'About the only thing they'll cover me for now is
earthquake, flood, and fire. Not even fire if it happens in a riot.'
They stood in silence, staring at the window, brooding about their
powerlessness.
A cool March wind sprang up. In the nearby planter, the queen palms
rustled, and soft creaking noises arose from where the stems of the big
fronds joined the trunks.
'Well,' Jack said at last, 'it could be worse, Mr. Arkadian. I mean,
at least you're in a pretty good part of the city here on the West
Side.'
'Yeah, and doesn't it break your heart,' Arkadian said, 'this is a good
neighborhood.'
Jack didn't even want to think about that.
Luther started to speak but was interrupted by a loud crash and a shout
of anger from the front of the station. As the three of them hurried
around the corner, a violent gust of wind made the plate-glass windows
thrum.
Fifty feet away, the man in the Armani suit kicked the vending machine
again.
A foaming can of Pepsi lay behind him, contents spreading across the
blacktop.
'Poison,' he shouted at the machine, 'poison, damn it, damn you, damn
you, poison!'
Arkadian rushed toward the customer. 'Sir, please, I'm sorry, if the
machine gave you the wrong selection--' 'Hey, wait right there,' Luther
said, speaking as much to the station owner as to the infuriated
stranger.
In front of the office door, Jack caught up with Arkadian, put a hand
on his shoulder, stopped him, and said, 'Better let us handle this.'
'Damn poison,' the customer said furiously, and he made a fist as if he
wanted to punch the vending machine.
'It's just the machine,' Arkadian told Jack and Luther. 'They keep
saying it's fixed, but it keeps giving you Pepsi when you push Orange
Crush.'
As bad as things were in the City of Angels these days, Jack found it
difficult to believe that Arkadian was accustomed to seeing people fly
off the handle every time an unwanted can of Pepsi dropped into the
