“Nope, East L.A.” said Biro. “My mother cleaned rooms at the Huntington.”

A crime scene tech emerged from the apartment in full hazmat suiting, unmasked, wiped sweat from his face. “Got the bathroom dark enough to luminol, Detectives. Lots of swipe marks and someone used granulated cleanser. But there’s a whole lot of hemoglobin left. Tub, floor, sink, oodles in the shower.”

“Oodles,” said Milo.

“That’s a technical term,” said the tech. “This one’s something, huh? Got a spare smoke?”

At three thirty p.m. we left the scene and cruised by Gordito’s. Two rangy hookers, not even close to feminine, sat nibbling and drinking and gabbing. A trio of construction workers occupied a nearby table, everyone minding their own business.

Milo said, “Drive a little and circle back, we’ll keep trying for a while. Once Tasha finds out Tony got sliced she’s a sure rabbit.”

His cell beeped. “What’s up, Sean?… Any resemblance?… Better than nothing, zip a copy over to Raul Biro… The smart one, worked with Petra… Yeah, him. Anything else? Good, get over to the house and be in charge while the techies do their thing… I don’t care about that, Sean, if any of those chrome mavens have a problem, tell ’em to call me. Now read everything you’ve got, go slow and enunciate. I got old ears.”

He listened for several minutes, worked his jaws, clicked off.

“Got a two-year-old DMV shot on Nicholas Heubel. Unfortunately, the photo shows him with a full gray beard and a shaved head and the address he listed is a P.O.B. in Brentwood that he only rented the month he applied for the lease on the house. He gave three references: Ansel D. Bright, San Francisco, Roland Korvutz, New York, and a Mel Dabson, here in L.A.”

I said, “Establish a fake identify and back yourself up with your real name.”

“Clever boy, huh? The leasing company says Bright’s reference was ‘glowing.’ And the number they reached him at traces back to a prepaid cell. Korvutz never responded to the request. Unlike this Dabson character, who said he’d known Heubel for years, Nicky was upright, honest, and dependable. Two out of three plus twenty-four grand in cash was enough to close the deal.”

I said, “Where in L.A. does Dabson live?”

He checked his notes. “Altair Terrace, zip code looks like… not too far from here, in the Hollywood Hills.”

I said, “Wonder if you can see the sign from there.”

I made several passes up and down Highland, drove over to Santa Monica where transsexual and male hookers share the stroll with varying degrees of harmony.

Milo looked for Tasha while he worked the phone. Trying for background on Melvin then Mel Dabson.

No such individual.

I said, “Could be another alter ego.”

He ran AutoTracks and criminal searches using Melford, Melrose, Meldrim, and Melnick, sat back cursing.