‘You said a witness saw a red station wagon?’ the woman asked.

‘That’s right. Do you –’

But the woman hung up.

Jo looked across the table at O’Hara. ‘That’s it?’

‘That’s it.’

‘You made me come all the way down here and eat these shitty eggs for this?’ She took off the headphones and tossed them at O’Hara. ‘If she actually calls me, we might be in business, otherwise this is worth less than nothing, Larry, you know that.’

‘Just see if she calls.’

‘If she doesn’t, our deal is off.’

‘Just see if she calls first,’ O’Hara repeated.

‘Yeah, well, she’s had my name since 2 p.m. yesterday.’

He shrugged. ‘Maybe she’s waiting for the right moment.’

The right moment came just before 7 p.m., as Jo was leaving the office.

‘Kader,’ she said, picking up her phone and putting on her jacket.

‘Uh, are you the one looking into that motel thing?’

She quickly sat down again. ‘Yeah, that’s me.’

‘I read that a witness at the motel saw a red station wagon. That right?’

‘That’s correct.’

Jo grabbed a pen and her notebook and looked in the direction of Hayesfield’s office. She could make him out behind the slats of the blind.

‘Hello?’ the woman said. ‘You still there?’

‘Yeah, I’m here.’

‘And this guy who blew his brains out up at Runyon Canyon Park – this Klein guy – you think he was the same dude who did all that shit with the acid and stuff?’

‘Can I get your name, ma’am?’

‘No. No, you can’t get no name.’

‘I need your name to –’

‘Do you think he did it or not?’

She felt her pulse quicken as she said, ‘I don’t know.’

‘Well, I think you got it wrong.’

‘Got it wrong how?’

There was no response this time.

‘Ma’am?’

More silence.

‘Ma’am, are you there –’

‘I think someone else did it.’

Jo tried to still her emotions.

‘Why would you say that, ma’am?’

Jo could hear the hesitancy in the woman now, like a series of staccato breaths.

‘Ma’am, it’s okay,’ Jo said.

‘Maybe this was a mistake.’

‘It’s not. You’re not making a mistake.’

‘All this Night Stalker stuff,’ the woman said, and for the first time there was a tremor in her voice, ‘I know it’s bad. I got eyes. I can read. I can see how messed up it is. And, I don’t know, maybe he ain’t as loco as this Stalker nut, but he’s still … he’s …’ Her sentence trailed off.

‘Who are we talking about here, ma’am?’

Silence.

‘Ma’am?’

‘I used to see him driving around in that red station wagon sometimes.’