Pike didn’t move or speak until the top was in place and the windows were closed, and neither did the bagman. He was too busy trying to breathe.

Pike said, “Grab the wheel. Both hands.”

He grabbed the wheel.

“Try to escape, I’ll kill you. Try to grab this weapon again, I’ll kill you. Do you understand?”

“This is a mistake, my man. I don’t know what you—”

Pike backfisted him hard on his temple, striking so fast the man had no time to react. His head bounced off the window, and Pike caught him again on the rebound. The second backfist made his eyes flag.

Pike jerked him upright, then dug his thumb into a nerve bundle between the man’s ribs. The man moaned, and pushed weakly at Pike’s hand, so Pike hit him again. The man covered his head.

Pike said, “Grab the wheel. Grab it.”

The man grabbed the wheel with both hands.

“Try to escape, I’ll kill you. Try to take this weapon again, I will kill you. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Jesus, stop hitting me. Please—”

“If you let go of the wheel again, I’ll kill you. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

The man’s knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip. Blood from his mouth dripped onto his shirt, and the corner of his eye at his temple was swelling.

Pike said, “What’s your name?”

“Vasa.”

“I’m going to search you, Vasa. Don’t let go of the wheel. Do not r esist.”

Pike went through Vasa’s pockets, finding a black ostrich wallet, a Nokia cell phone, and four thin vinyl billfolds.

Pike said, “One from each girl?”

“Yes.”

“They have the money ready? You stop by, they give it to you?”

“You know who this belongs to?”

“Me.”

Pike thumbed through the bills, mostly hundreds and twenties, and counted out thirty-eight hundred. He tucked the money into his pocket.

“Where’s the rest?”

Vasa blinked at him.

“What rest? That’s it.”

Pike stared into Vasa’s eyes, and finally Vasa sighed.

“Under the seat.”

Pike found another seventy-three hundred dollars under the seat, and added it to the cash in his pocket. That made eleven thousand, one hundred dollars of Darko’s money.

Pike studied Vasa. He stared at Vasa so long, the man turned away.

“Why are you staring at me? Who are you?”

“My name is Pike. Say it.”

“You are Pike?”

“Say the name. Say it.”

“Pike. I say it. You are Pike.”

“Look at me.”

Vasa cringed as if he was certain Pike would hit him again.

Pike touched the arrow on the outside of his arm.

“See this?”

Vasa nodded.

“Tell me you see it.”

“I see it.”

“Where is Michael Darko?”

Vasa’s eyes grew into saucers again.

“I don’t know. How would I know?”

“Call him.”