And the one I’d written him would have had my name and address on it.

Which explained why Lawrence, at the hospital, had tried to tell me that they were after me, too.

What were the odds that the kind of people who’d stab Lawrence for a name and an address were going to let me walk away with Angie once I’d let them search the Virtue for what they believed was hidden inside it?

This was not something I was going to be able to handle alone. I had to have help. I needed the police.

But if Bullock had his own people on the inside, or had members of the force on his payroll, how could I call the police and be confident they wouldn’t pick up the phone and call Bullock?

The answer was not to call the police. The answer was to call a single policeman. A police detective. One who might feel he still owed Lawrence something, who might want to make up for a mistake he’d made in the past.

As I sped toward Lawrence’s apartment, I dug into my back pocket and struggled once again to get out my wallet. In there, I found Steve Trimble’s official business card. I let the wallet drop onto the passenger seat, glanced at the home number on the card, memorized it, and dropped the card next to my wallet. Now I dug out my phone and punched in the number with my thumb, keeping my other hand on the wheel.

“Hello?” A woman.

“Is Steve there?”

“May I tell him who’s calling?”

I told her.

“Just a minute.”

I waited a good half minute. Finally, “Walker, what do you want?”

“I haven’t got a lot of time to explain this, Trimble, so listen carefully. Some people from Lenny Indigo’s gang, one of them Barbie Bullock I think, have kidnapped my daughter. They’ve told me that if I call the police, they’ll know and they’ll kill her. They say they’re willing to trade her for my car, which I bought yesterday at a police auction with Lawrence, and which I’m guessing has drugs hidden in it someplace. Am I going too fast?”

“I’m listening,” Trimble said.

I could see Lawrence Jones’s building up ahead. I hung a right before I reached it, drove into the parking lot out back.

“They’re calling me back in about half an hour, to tell me where I’m supposed to meet them. I don’t think I can make this exchange alone. I need someone watching my back, and since I’m too scared to call 911 and tip these guys off, I’m calling you. And there’s something else you should know.”

“What’s that?”

“I think these are the people who tried to kill Lawrence.”

There was a pause at the other end of the line. “Where will we meet?”