Chapters (46)
- COVER PAGE
- PRAISE
- DEDICATION
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- SNEAK PEEK: EXIT .45
Vincent said, ‘What did Lou say about his nose?’
‘He didn’t have an explanation. He was bombed out of his brain.’
Vincent said, ‘Well, as I say, the nose was all me. I hope that’s not going to derail the investigation.’
Locke said, ‘Lou Cazaretti says Andre Gutierrez was in the house. Maybe he dreamed it, but I’m pretty confident he didn’t.’
‘Well, that changes things, doesn’t it? You think Gutierrez did it.’
Locke nodded. ‘I’d pretty much guarantee it.’ He looked down at his coffee for a moment, as if the anti-Locke reflected there darkly might offer some guidance. ‘But I wanted to make sure I had my facts arranged.’ Looking at Vincent again—eyes hanging there below the edge of the cap brim. ‘Which means I also need to know what you were doing at Sylvester Crow’s place yesterday afternoon.’
‘Who says I was there?’
Locke said, ‘There was an officer posted outside. He took down the Range Rover’s licence plate—three forty-seven pm, I think it was. And given Ms Jones was in an office at Santa Barbara PD, I’m not quite sure how it could have been her.’
Vincent said, ‘I dropped in on the way back from Lamar’s. Sly wasn’t home. I found him down at Montecito, playing golf.’
Locke’s mug rose to find his mouth, but his eyes didn’t move. ‘And?’
Vincent shrugged. ‘And he wasn’t entirely helpful. In fact, the Coroner might wonder why he has facial bruising and evidence of a bloody nose. I can talk to them about that, if required.’
Locke looked at him for a while. ‘How many noses did you get through yesterday?’
Vincent said, ‘Just the two. I’m at three for the year, though. I did one in New York, back in March.’
Locke spent a few more seconds just looking at him. He said, ‘I recommend you go and talk about it with Santa Barbara PD. Yesterday’s efforts, I mean.’
Vincent said, ‘I’ll think about it. Why would Gutierrez want to get rid of Sly Crow, anyway?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You got this funny look in your eye that says otherwise.’
Locke put his mug down, rotated it on the saucer, small motions back and forth, as if it were a dial by which to tune his thoughts. He looked up and said, ‘Gutierrez is a psychopath. I hope I made that clear to you yesterday.’
‘Yeah, you did. I haven’t been socialising with him.’
Locke looked away and then back. ‘I’ve seen him a few times in the flesh.’ Nodding to himself, as if working through points in his head, reaching some bottom line. ‘I think he might be the worst person I’ve ever met. And I’ve seen some real bad ones.’