“What time this morning did you step out, sir?”

“Seven forty-five. If you want me to narrow it down, I doubt it happened after five a.m. because by then I was up and in my office, which is in the front of the house, so I think I would’ve heard something. Though I can’t be sure. One thing you can say about the darn thing, the engine’s quiet.”

“Five a.m.,” said Milo. “Early riser.”

“I like to be well prepared for the markets when they open in New York. Sometimes when I’m looking at the international bourses, I’m up even earlier than that.”

“Stock trader?”

“Dabble in commodities. This morning nothing enticed me, so I figured I’d get some breakfast, make some calls.”

“Must be successful dabbling.”

Heubel shrugged and scratched his head. “Beats honest labor. Anyway, I reported it, by the time I heard back from Detective Binchy, I’d found it.”

“Right in the neighborhood,” said Milo.

“Three blocks west, on Villa Entrada.”

“Any particular reason you went there?”

Heubel looked puzzled.

Milo said, “Are you aware of some delinquent living on Villa Entrada who might do something like this?”

“Oh,” said Heubel. “No, not at all. I just drove up and down, can’t even tell you why I did it because I wasn’t really hopeful. Probably just to do something — you know? Trying to take back control?”

“Absolutely, sir.”

“If you’d asked me to bet, I’d have said it was in East L.A., or Watts or on a flatbed to Tijuana. You can imagine how surprised I was when I spotted it, parked right at the curb, keys in the ignition.”

“Speaking of the keys,” said Milo. “How did—”

“I know, I know, stupid,” said Heubel. “The main one’s in my desk drawer but who figured someone would find the other?”

“Spare set?”

“One of those magnetic dealies, I keep it in a wheel well in case the main one gets lost.” Heubel colored. “Dumb, huh?”

“Who knew it was there?”

“That’s the thing,” said Heubel, “no one. I’m so careful that when I go to the car wash I remove it. Guess I wasn’t careful enough. Maybe someone drove by and saw me removing it. Believe me, I’ve learned my lesson.”

“All’s well that ends well,” said Milo.

“Absolutely. But the blood’s troublesome, isn’t it, Lieutenant? It wasn’t until I got home that I noticed it.” Blinking. “That’s what it is, right?”

“It’s possible, sir, but even if that turns out to be the case, there’s no evidence of violence.”

“What do you mean?”

“It really isn’t that much blood, and with violence you generally see what we call impact spatter — dripping or spray or sizable splotches. This looks more like someone wiped a cut on the leather.”