Decker said, “They weren’t here as of a half hour ago. But they may have slipped in. Or they may be planning to come here later.” He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “I’m going to call Marge, have her cover the airport while I go hunting around the area.”

“Want me to stay with Marge?” Rina asked. “I’d recognize Noam better than she would.”

Decker stared at her. “You don’t get involved. Remember?”

“I just thought—”

“No.”

“Okay.” She tucked in loose strands of hair under her kerchief. “What are you going to do?”

“Check out the local sleep-joints. They had to have gone somewhere.”

They resumed walking.

The huge expanse of blacktop parking was by no means empty. He wondered what all the cars were doing in the lots if the terminals were nearly deserted. Then he thought of all the businessmen on overnights. They parked their cars in the lots and picked them up the next morning.

Not knowing exactly where Rina was, he had parked the car a quarter-mile away from TWA. As they walked, he thought: If Hersh and Noam were planning to leave the city, a case could be made for trying to nab them as they boarded the flight. It seemed insane for him to go running around the city, looking for two people who might show up soon anyway. Inglewood was spread out. They could be anywhere within a ten-mile radius.

But what if they changed their minds and decided not to leave the city? Then Decker would have missed a golden opportunity. Worse, what if Hersh changed his mind at the last minute and decided to do away with Noam—who was, thank God, alive as of a half hour ago. No, he couldn’t wait, he couldn’t take that chance.

Maybe they went back to Clint Willy’s dive. Pigeons returning to roost. He’d check that one out first. Luckily, all the dumps were near each other—

He interrupted his train of thought.

Why was he assuming they were holed up in any motel? Having committed a horrible, bloody crime, clothes soaked with blood, faces possibly scratched up, maybe they thought it was wise to avoid any motels—just like they did after assault number one. If they didn’t want to be noticed first time around—and that victim lived—they’d really want to lie low after what they had done.

He stopped walking. Rina asked what was wrong.

“You know, after they attacked their first victim, they didn’t register at a motel. They camped out under an overpass.” He paused. “I’m wondering if history might be repeating itself.”

“Does Inglewood have hideout spots under its freeways?”