“One of the few perks of this job, eh?” Marge said. “You know where we are? I always get lost around this area.”

“We’re not too far from the academy,” Decker said. “Just go straight here, the road parallels the park. Do me a favor, Marge. As long as we had to exit, hang a right onto Los Feliz—I have some business in Hollywood I should take care of. You mind a half-hour delay?”

“Firing range ain’t going nowhere,” Marge said.

“Thanks,” Decker said. But Marge’s face looked tense. Decker told himself that she’d get over it, she was just a little anxious about getting back on the job. Had to prove herself. He hadn’t realized how insecure she was until she had suggested a trip to the range. She’d tried to sound casual, but her voice had been saturated with uncertainty. Decker agreed to tag along.

Marge rode through the park’s mountainous turns, past shaded picnic grounds and the old-fashioned pony ride—through acres of greenery until the winding lane merged into Los Feliz Boulevard. She drove westward, past rows of well-kept residential buildings. Behind, the hillside was stacked with split-level homes. As she crossed Vermont, the apartments yielded to stately mansions occupying acre lots on grassy knolls. On her left were gated communities where old Hollywood wealth used to reside. But now the area, resting in a smog-soaked basin of L.A., had lost some of its luster, fighting the aging process like an old-time movie queen.

“Where to, Jiggs?” Marge asked.

“Follow Los Feliz until it becomes Western,” Decker said.

“What time’s the Darcy arraignment?” Marge asked.

“Lou Nixon said some time in the late afternoon.”

“We won’t make it back on time,” Marge said.

“Hollander will be there,” Decker said.

“What’s Lou shooting for?” Marge asked.

“Ultimately, probation for Pappy and Earl,” Decker said. “And Earl and Katie to be placed with Sue Beth. As for ole Granny Darcy?” He shrugged. “Some sort of psych. eval. and treatment. Family’s totally fucked up. The only one who gains anything at all is Manfred. Sue Beth told me the Howards sold out right after the Darcys. Manfred’s already moving in the rigs. Seems they applied for drilling rights a long time ago, even before they owned the property. All the paperwork’s in. Just waiting for the final stamp of approval.”

“They could be protested.”

“By whom?” Decker said. “There’s no one left out there. Even Chip sold out to Manfred. And who could blame him? Not exactly a hoot slinging beers to hopped-up bikers. They’ve all taken the money and run.”

Western Avenue was a succession of cheap motels, take-out joints, and liquor stores. The seediest part of Hollywood. A perfect place to live if you wanted to dwell in chronic depression. The unmarked weaved in and out of traffic.

Marge said, “Manfred moving in like that. It stinks.”