“I know, hypothesis.” He wiped salt grains from the top of the shaker. “I suppose you know Troy Turner was murdered, too.”

I nodded.

“Think there’s a connection?” he said.

“Troy was killed a month into his sentence,” I said.

“And this is eight years later. Yeah, if I was Malley and wanted to do the revenge bit, I’d have finished the job quickly. It’s something I thought about when I heard about Turner’s death. I got concerned for Rand, called his warden and asked for a special watch. The jerk said he’d look into it. Definitely bullshitting me.”

“When you called were you thinking about Barnett Malley?”

“Maybe,” he said. “But even in general terms, I was thinking Rand would make a good trophy for some testosterone-laced sociopath out to make his rep.” He looked down at his food but didn’t touch it. “Anyway, I appreciate the warning, but if I got freaked out about every victim’s family member going after me I’d be a basket case.”

He held his hands out, palms up, steady. “See, no anxiety.”

Just compulsively organized table items.

I said, “You’re in Beverly Hills now. Must be a different level of offenders.”

“B.H. is more than just celebrity shoplifters. We handle a lot of West Hollywood’s felony cases, so, no, I’m not sleeping at the wheel.”

“Didn’t mean to imply you were.”

He took a long time assembling a salmon and cream cheese sandwich. Picked out capers one by one and imbedded them around the outer edge of the bagel’s whitened, bottom half. Inspecting his handiwork, he closed the sandwich but didn’t eat.

I said, “How much contact did you have with Rand after he went away?”

“I called him a couple of times,” said Montez. “Then I moved on. Why?”

“He phoned me the day he died, said he wanted to talk about Kristal but wouldn’t give details over the phone. We made an appointment and I showed up but he didn’t. A few hours later, he was found— dead. Any idea what could’ve been on his mind?”

He played with the sandwich on his plate, nudging it with his thumb until it sat dead center. When he looked up, his jaw was taut. “This isn’t really about warning me, is it? It’s about pumping me for information.”

“It’s both,” I said.

“Right.”

“We’re not in an adversarial position, Mr. Montez.”

“I’m a lawyer,” he said. “In my world everything’s adversarial.”

“Fine, but now we’re on the same side.”

“Which is?”

“Getting some justice for Rand.”

“By locking his killer up?”

“Wouldn’t that be a good start?” I said.

“In your world,” he said.

“Not in yours?”