‘Yeah, yeah. Oasis, that’s right. They moved the investment money temporarily—it was, like, a hundred million bucks—so it looked like they could cover the thirty mil if they had to. And, you know, that got them a deal where they could get the product up-front with no down-payment, and then on-sell to cover it.’

Erin said, ‘The investment money was frozen. The article said the DA’s involved.’

‘Yeah, I know. That article was bullshit. Honestly, that money was clean. It said there’d been some kind of tip-off, but whoever it was gave them bad intel. The money was legit. But anyway, that’s not the problem. The problem’s the truck. I mean, it’s worth thirty million dollars, and it’s gone.’

Vincent said, ‘And you’ve no idea where it is?’

Page said, ‘Someone does. Someone’s intercepted it. Lamar’s guy—Freeman—he doesn’t have it. He’s smoked. Lamar’s smo—I mean, he’s dead, too. But like I said, Freeman brought another guy in—this Wayne whatshisname—and he’s gone. He’s off the grid.’

Vincent said, ‘With a truckload of soup, potentially.’

‘Yeah, well. A truckload of something.’

Page turned from the window and looked at his shelf, seemed to calm down a little, seeing his trophies. His breathing steadied. He said, ‘I went by his house—Wayne’s house—but he’d already hit the road. It was just the wife there, and she thought he’d gone off on some kind of sex trip, she didn’t have a clue.’

Vincent said, ‘What’s Delroy Clemons doing in all of this?’

‘He’s the buyer’s agent. He’s acting for the buyer. I could’ve told you last night, but you know, he was right there.’

Vincent said, ‘I was the one with the gun, though, wasn’t I?’

Page didn’t answer.

Erin said, ‘Who’s Delroy reporting to?’

Page said, ‘Sylvester Crow. Sly’s the buyer.’

Vincent shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. Sly’s dead.’

‘Sly’s dead?’

‘Uh-huh. They found him in his swimming pool with a broken neck.’

Page clasped his hands behind his head, had to look at his trophy shelf to stay calm.

Vincent said, ‘What do you know about Andre Gutierrez?’

‘Who?’

‘He worked for Sly. We think he might’ve killed him.’

Page shook his head. ‘I don’t know that name.’

The phone at reception started to ring. It seemed to jerk Page out of story mode. He said, ‘Look, I’m sorry, I can’t stay here. We have to leave. Sweetheart, we need to leave.’

Erin said, ‘What happened last night? I called the office number here, and then an hour later I had Delroy outside my hotel.’

Page was back behind the desk, opening drawers. He said, ‘I was here last night—I got the message and then called him.’