Vincent said, ‘He’s got the worst breath I ever smelled on a human. You stand in front of him, it’ll take your hairline back about three inches.’

Locke was still in his own head. ‘He’s got poll position when it comes to evil, that’s for sure. I’ve never met anyone quite like him.’

Vincent said, ‘You been lying awake all night feeling sorry for dead Sly? Thinking Andre should’ve had some mercy.’

Locke shook his head. ‘No. I don’t feel sorry for him. But I worry what’s going to happen next. And I worry I should’ve stopped him by now. Andre, I mean. It’s like … how can you come face-to-face with something like that and let it keep moving past you. At some point you have to say you’re pulling the brake on it.’

Vincent said, ‘If you’ve driven down here with visions of getting rid of him, I’d advise against it.’

Locke shook his head. ‘No, I’m not going to do that. But I need to find him. He strikes me as one of these guys who thinks his life’s calling is to inflict as much damage as he can.’

‘And how come you’re so much more worried today than you were yesterday?’

But Locke wouldn’t get into it. He said, ‘Lamar had a security consultant named Wayne Forsyth. His wife says an employee of Eugene Lamar’s called up yesterday, asking for him.’

‘Yeah. That would’ve been me.’

‘Has Ms Jones asked you to find him?’

Vincent said, ‘I can’t talk about what she’s said or hasn’t said.’

Locke said, ‘That doesn’t fill me with much confidence.’

Beside his saucer, the folded sugar packet was gradually unfurling—hook-shaped now, like a witch’s finger. Locke took his wallet from his pocket and brought out a paperclip, slid it over the folded portion of sugar packet and put the sugar packet in his wallet and the wallet in his pocket.

Vincent waited for him to complete his little exercise and said, ‘Who are the two guys I killed yesterday?’

‘I don’t know. Hired guys, yet to be ID’d.’

‘Why are you so interested in Gutierrez?’

‘I told you.’

‘Not really. You said he’s evil, and you implied you’ve got some kind of personal duty to take him out. That sounds a bit metaphysical or religious or something. And if that’s the case, it’s either the wrong decision, or there’s a better reason for doing it. And I’m thinking in your case, going after a guy by yourself in plain clothes on a Thursday—it’s just flat-out a wrong decision.’

Locke said, ‘What’s wrong with it being a Thursday?’

Vincent thought about that. He said, ‘Nothing, I guess.’

Locke said, ‘Every now and then I feel like I meet a character. You know what I mean?’