“I'd say it's excellent,” I said. “Exemplary. And one way to keep things so tidy is through firm discipline. Very firm discipline.”

He sighed. “Sure, it's possible. But if de Bosch was running a torture chamber, wouldn't there be complaints?”

“Five dead people is a complaint.”

“Okay. But if you want a hostility motive, look at Bancroft. He had a hard-on for de Bosch for over twenty years. But that doesn't mean he ran around the country murdering everyone associated with him.”

“Maybe he should be looked into.”

“He will be,” he said wearily. “He's being looked into. Meanwhile, you be careful and sit tight. I'm sorry, Alex, I wish the goddamn pieces had fit together neatly, but it's turning out to be messy.”

“Just like real life,” I said. “Anything new on Katarina?”

“Coroner still can't decide if she was conscious or unconscious after those blows to the face. Her baby was, indeed, a twenty-two-week-old normal male, Caucasian. I called the sperm bank, they wouldn't even verify she was a customer. Sally and I can probably pry some information loose, eventually. Meanwhile, is Robin coming to us? Rick says no problem except for Rover—excuse me, Spike. Dog allergy. But if Robin really wants to take the pooch with her, he can put himself on antihistamines.”

“He won't need to,” I said. “Robin insists on staying with me.”

“Must be your charm . . . well, don't sweat it, I'm sure you're safe.”

“Hope so.” I told him about the brake lights the previous night.

“Just lights, nothing funny?”

“Just lights. And then the car drove off.”

“What time was this?”

“Nine forty-five or so.”

“Any other cars around?”

“Quite a few.”

“Sounds like nothing. If you see anything funny, call Beverly Hills PD—they protect their citizenry.”

“I will. Thanks for everything. . . . The kid who went off the mountain, did he have a name?”

“Still on that, huh?” He gave a small laugh. “His name was Delmar Parker and he originally came from New Orleans.”

“What was he being treated for at the school?”

“Don't know, there's no complete police report, because the case was closed and filed. We're working from summary cards at the coroner's office and lucky to find them. . . . Let's see . . . name, date, age, cause of death—multiple traumas and internal injuries—place of birth, N'Awleens . . . parent or guardian—here it is—the mother . . . Marie A. Parker.”

“Any address?”

“No. Why? You want to dig up another one?”

“No,” I said. “I don't want to dig up anything, believe me. I'm just grasping, Milo.”

Silence. “Okay, I'll try, but don't count on it. It was a long time ago. People move. People die.”

I pretended everything was normal. Robin and I ate lunch out by the pool. The sky was clear and beautiful, bracing itself for a smog cloud heading over from the east.

Lifestyles of the rich and fearful.