Sidewinder was slightly smaller than Sanchez—less gut but more bottom heavy. His face, eroded by acne, held a weak chin and a mouth of crooked front teeth. He had dishwater hair tied up into a ponytail. His garb was almost identical to Grease Pit’s—black T-shirt over black jeans. His boots held tips and spurs—great accoutrements for kicking recalcitrant motorcycles.

“Sidewinder Polinski, this is…”

“Lieutenant Decker.” He proffered his hand. Polinski turned it into a high-five handshake.

Sanchez said, “Sidewinder, this guy here, he’s in charge of Granddaddy’s bump. We gotta cooperate with him. Find the asshole who did this.”

“Absolutely,” Polinski said. “Anything we can do to help. Not just me, any one of us. We all loved Granddaddy.”

Sanchez said, “One hell of a guy. I was just tellin’…tellin’…”

“Decker.”

“Yeah, the lieutenant here that either he finds the asshole. Or we find the asshole. Don’t make no difference to me. Just so long as someone finds the asshole.”

“Sir, it does make a difference to the law.”

“Aw, fuck the law—”

“I know, Mr. Sanchez. We’ve had this conversation before.”

“Grease Pit’s just frustrated,” Polinski said. “We all are. I mean look at it from our point of view. The tax dollars wasted on OJ’s trial. And then the Menendez mistrial…more tax dollars wasted. Then the retrial. More tax dollars. That’s a lot of money. So you see what he’s saying about taking the law into his own hands. I mean it’s wrong. But it’s efficient.”

“It will land you in jail.”

“More tax dollars wasted,” Polinski said. “But that’s what this society has come to. Lots of waste.”

Decker stared at the biker, took out his notepad. “Any idea who might have bumped Granddaddy, Sidewinder?”

“Me?” Polinski scratched his head. “No. No ideas.”

“Nah, we don’t know assholes who do this shit,” Sanchez said. “We don’t believe in random violence.”

Decker managed to keep his face expressionless.

Sanchez said, “You shoulda seen Granddaddy on a bike, Lieutenant. Man, he was somethin’. Burnin’ the tar, smokin’ dirt through his tailpipes. And he put his money where his mouth was. Came through when it counted.”

“How so?”

“In the cause, man.”

“What cause?”

“He means,” Polinski said, “that Granddaddy came through when you needed him.”

“Fucking-A right!”

“What cause?” Decker repeated.

“Like when Benny got wrecked.” Polinski scratched his head again. Flakes snowed from his scalp. “Man, did he get wrecked!”

Sanchez said, “Yeah, man, that was somethin’. He really got wrecked, man.”

Decker said, “What happened to Benny?”

“Asshole was skunk drunk.” Sanchez adjusted his pants. “Went flyin’ head first into the ground. Blood squirtin’ all over the fuckin’ place. Granddaddy sprung into action. Man, it was somethin’ to see that guy in action when Benny got wrecked. Old guy like him.” He snapped his fingers. “Moved like that.”