8I
'Mike? Yo, Mike?'
Fallon stepped out behind them. He tapped Schilling with the gun.
Schilling jumped like a bitch.
'Jesus, luck! You scared the shit out of me.'
'Pay more attention next time. If I was the wrong guy,
you wouldn't have a next time.'
'Whatever.'
Schilling and Ibo put down the bags, Schilling bitching because Fallon had gotten the drop on him. Ibo tossed a green apple to Fallon, then took a bottle of Orangina, for himself. It had to be orange--orange juice, orange soda, Orangina; Ibo wouldn't drink anything else. Fallon needled Schilling about getting the drop, but they both knew that Eric was good. In fact, Eric was excellent. Fallon just happened to be better.
Fallon said, 'You get the car okay?'
'Mazi got it. We went down to Inglewood. Half the rides down there are rolling stolen, anyway; the cops
won't pay attention even if the owner calls it in.'
Ibo said, 'Eets good cahr. Nyce seets.'
Schilling took two cell phones from a bag and tossed them to Fallon, one, two, a Nokia and a Motorola. They needed the car and the phones for what they had planned.
Fallon watched for a moment as they put out the food, then said, 'Listen up.'
Schilling and Ibo looked over. They had been planning this for a long time, but now they were getting close to the edge. It would be go or no-go in just a few hours.
'Once we double-cross this guy, there's no going back. Are we all good on this?'
Schilling said, 'Hell, yes. I want the money. So does Mazi. Dude, this op is nothing compared to that other shit; fuck what some asshole thinks.'
Ibo rapped fists with Schilling, the two of them grinning. Fallon knew how they would answer, but he was glad he had asked. They were in it for the money, like professionals. 'Hoo.' Schilling and Ibo answered, 'Hoo.' Fallon dropped to the floor to pull on his socks and shoes. He wanted a shower, but the shower could wait. 'I'm gonna go find an AO. Stow the chow, then check the kid. Make sure he's tight.' The AO was the location they would secure and maintain as the area of operation for the double-cross. 'He's tight. He's under three feet of dirt.' 'Check him anyway, Eric. I'll be back after dark, then we can pull him up to make the call. We'll probably have to put him on the phone to convince these guys.' Fallon slipped his gun into his pants, then started for the garage. Schilling called after him. 'Yo. What are we going to do with the kid if we don't get the money.'' Fallon didn't even look back or break stride. 'Put him back in the box and plug up the hole.' 83
CHAPTER 8
time missing: x8 hours, 38 minutes
Laurence Sobek murdered seven people. Joe Pike was supposed to be the eighth. They were seven innocent human beings, but Sobek blamed them for putting a pedophile named Leonard DeVille into prison for the rape and sodomy of a five-year-old girl named Ramona Ann Escobar. As often happens to men with 'short eyes,' DeVille was murdered by inmates. All of that had happened fifteen years ago. Joe Pike, who was then with LAPD, had been the arresting officer, and Sobek's seven victims had been witnesses for the prosecution. Sobek shot Pike twice before Pike put him down, and Pike almost died. His recovery had been slow, and sometimes I doubted it. I guess Pike doubted it, too, but with Pike you never know. The Sphinx is a chatterbox compared to Pike.
I told him about Ben and the call as we drove to my house.
Pike said, 'The man on the phone didn't make any demands?'
'He told me it was payback. That's all he said. lust
that it was payback for what happened in Vietnam.' 'You think he's for real?' 'I don't know.'
Pike grunted. He knew what happened to me that day
84
in Vietnam. He was the only person I'd told about that day outside of Army personnel and the families of the other four men. Maybe all of us needed to play the Sphinx, time to time.
When we reached my house, a pale blue SID van was parked across my drive, where Starkey was helping a tall, gangly criminalist named John Chen unload his equipment. Gittamon was changing shoes in the backseat of his car. Richard and his people had gathered at the side of my house with their jackets off and sleeves rolled. A nasty purple bruise had risen under Fontenot's eye. DeNice openly glared at us.
Pike and I parked off the road past my house, then walked back to the van. Starkey shot a resentful glance at Gittamon and lowered her voice. She was still smoking.
'You see all these people? Gittamon is letting them come down the hill.'
'This is my partner, Joe Pike. He's coming, too.'
'Jesus, Cole, this is a fuckin' crime scene, not a safari.'
John Chen emerged from the van with a day pack and an evidence kit like a large metal tackle box. He bobbed his head when he saw us.
'Hey, I know these guys. Hi, Elvis. Hiya, Joe. We worked together on the Sobek thing.'
