Bosch opened his file and checked the DMV photo of Banks that Chu had provided. Looking back at the dealership, he easily identified Banks as the balding man with a drooping mustache at the desk in the corner closest to Bosch. He watched the man, studying him in profile because of the angle of the desk. While Banks looked like he was studiously engaged with something on his computer screen, Bosch could tell he was playing solitaire. He had angled the screen so that it could not be seen from within the showroom, most likely by his boss.

After a while Bosch got bored watching Banks, started the car, and pulled away from the curb. As he did so, he checked the rearview and saw a blue compact pulling away from the curb five parked cars back. He made his way on Crows Landing Road back to the 99, intermittently checking the mirror and seeing the car trailing in traffic behind him. It didn’t concern him. He was on a major traffic artery, and lots of cars were going the way he was going. But when he eased up on the accelerator and started letting cars go by him, the blue car slowed to match his speed and continued to hang back. Finally, Bosch pulled to the curb in front of an auto parts store and watched his mirror. Half a block back, the blue car turned right and disappeared, leaving Bosch to wonder if he was being followed or not.

Bosch pulled back into traffic and continued to check his mirror as he headed to the CA-99 entrance. Along the way, he passed what seemed like an unending parade of Mexican food joints and used-car lots, the visual only broken up by the tire stores and auto repair and parts shops. The street was almost like one-stop shopping: buy a junker here and get it fixed up over there. Grab a fish taco at the mariscos truck while you’re waiting. It depressed Bosch to think about all the road dust on those tacos.

Just as he spotted the entrance ramp to CA-99, he also saw his first “Drummond for Congress” sign. It was 4 × 6 and posted on a safety fence that crossed the overpass. The sign, which had Drummond’s smiling face on it, could be seen by all who headed north on the freeway below. Bosch noticed that someone had drawn a Hitler mustache on the candidate’s upper lip.

As he came down the ramp to the freeway, Bosch checked the rearview and thought he saw the blue compact coming down behind him. Once he merged into traffic, he checked again, but traffic now obscured his view. He dismissed the sighting as paranoia.