“Yeah,” a man said.

“Let me talk to Joe,” I said.

“An’ who the fuck is this?”

“Easy Rawlins.”

A soundless moment passed and then: “Easy?”

“Hey, Joe. How you doin’?”

“Gettin’ ready to go down to the California Club. One of the governor’s men wants to talk.”

“I’m sitting here with a man named Jericho. He seems to think that you have something to tell me.”

“Jericho? That’s easy. He will never threaten you, so you have to make sure not to cross him because you will not make it to the other side of that street.”

“Huh. How’s your wife and son?”

“They okay. He’s off at school bein’ a genius and she’s more beautiful every day. How ’bout your li’l family?”

“They’re okay.”

“Remember, Easy. Walk softly, now.”

I hung up and practiced breathing again. Then I went into my speech.

I told Jericho about Craig Kilian and his untimely death; about Eddie Brock and his missing money. About a girl named Donata that I was still looking for and a man named Alonzo who was already dead.

“And what do you plan to do about all this?” Jericho asked.

“I plan to stay alive.”

That got the crime boss to smile again. He made a hand gesture that was familiar to Orrin Cause. The rust-clad gangster got to his feet, reached into a pocket, and came out with a fat envelope. This he deposited on my desk.

“That envelope contains two thousand six hundred and sixty-four dollars,” Jericho said. “That’s my lucky number. That’s what I’m giving you to keep me informed about what’s happening with your case.”

I didn’t reach for the money. I didn’t tell him that Donata/Roxanna had offered approximately thirty-eight times that much.

“You seem like you might have come from the country, Mr. Jericho. Is that true?”

He smiled again and nodded.

“Me too. I was born on a farm and lived around people who possessed what wealth the land had to offer but very little money. Those people traded in favors. You know what I mean?”

“I do.”

“So at the end of this thing with Brock and the money, if you are satisfied I might want to ask a small favor.”

Jericho gave me a curt nod, stood, and turned. He followed Orrin Cause through the front door.

38

38

Back in my office I decided on a .22 revolver for the rest of the Kilian affair. That caliber didn’t have much of a kick and I felt I might need to be accurate with each shot. There was too much threat for me to rely on manhood alone.

I made a call. After about a dozen rings I hung up. A few minutes later I repeated that process with the same results.

The next call was answered on the fourth ring.

“Pink Palace,” a mature woman’s voice warbled.