I noted the Williamses’ last known address, then stood, my knees and back stiff from sitting too long in the chair. I knew their neighborhood. I knew people who lived there. I might just have a string or two to pull. “I’ll be glad to. Let’s go, Jung.”

Jung had been peeking over Ben’s shoulder at the mug book. He looked at me, eyes wide. “Where’re we going?”

Ben eyed me, suspicious. “Yeah, where are you going?”

I looked from Ben to Weber. “I’ve just picked out a couple of dangerous criminals. I would think that gives you both plenty to do without sweating over where I’m going.”

Ben shook his head, his mouth twisted into a distrustful smirk. “Uh-uh, don’t worry about what we’ve got to do. I want to know what you think you’ve got to do.”

“I’m taking Jung home. Unless, of course, I can sit in while Marta works the fake nurse?” Both stood still, eyes averted. Of course I couldn’t. “That’s what I thought.” I motioned to Jung. “Let’s roll.”

“Stay out of this,” Ben called after us.

I waved good-bye, keeping it moving. “I’m taking my client home, if that’s all right with you, Grandpa.”

“‘Grandpa,’ my ass. Go home. Keep close to your phone. I’ll call when we grab these idiots up.”

“On my way.”

I shoved out into the office, Jung walking beside me. “You’re not going home, are you?”

“Nope.”

“You’re going after those guys?”

“Yep.”

We headed for the elevator, weaving through busy cops. They didn’t appear to take notice of either of us, but I knew they saw us, all the same. In fact, if pressed, every single one of them would likely be able to give a detailed description of Jung and me, right down to the color of our socks. It came with the training. Cop eyes missed very little.

“They work for Spada?”

I slid him a sidelong look, smiled. “Yeah, looks that way.”

Jung stopped walking. I stopped to see why he stopped. “So that old man killed Tim for money?”

He stared at me, hurt in his eyes. I’d forgotten for a moment that at the bottom of this case was Jung’s grief for his friend, that it was more than just a battle now between Spada and me. “Mostly for money, but I think he got off on the control, the power, choosing who lives or dies, seeing it done. Like this whole thing is some kind of game.”

Jung nodded, his jaw clenched. I was looking at a different face than the one I was used to. This wasn’t the easygoing sandwich guy prone to existential jabberwocky anymore; I was looking at a less innocent Jung.