“Look behind you.”

Chen emerged from his wagon. He stared at the radio car as if the officers would jump out to arrest him.

Pike said, “Farther back. I’m on the next block.”

Chen finally saw him, then shriveled back into his wagon.

“Did the police already come see you?”

“A detective named Terrio.”

“I was calling to warn you, bro. They found a picture of you with the vic. I’m sorry, man. I only heard about it this morning.”

“I want to see what happened in there.”

Chen hesitated again.

“It’s a mess.”

Chen, warning that he would see something awful, but Pike had seen awful things before.

Chen sighed.

“Okay, listen—two dicks from West L.A. are inside. I don’t know how long they’ll be.”

“ I’ll wait.”

“They might be here all day.”

“ I’ll wait.”

“All right. Okay. I’ll call when it’s clear.”

Pike could tell Chen wasn’t comfortable with him being out here, but Pike didn’t care about that or how long he might have to wait. Chen reemerged from his wagon and slouched back to the house, shooting nervous glances at Pike over his shoulder.

Pike got out of his Jeep, pulled on a pair of spare jeans and a plain green windbreaker so he would be less memorable, then climbed back behind the wheel. He studied Frank’s house. A sloping front lawn led to a two-story brick home with a steep slate roof, surrounded by elm trees and feathery hedges. The house looked stable, traditional, and strong, and was suited to the Frank Pike knew. Pike liked that. Frank had done all right for himself.

After a while, a man and woman who were likely the West L.A. detectives came down the drive, got into the unmarked sedan, and drove away. Chen called as Pike watched them.

“You still out there?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll come get you. We won’t have much time.”

Pike met Chen on the sidewalk, then followed him to the house. The two uniforms appeared to be dozing, and no one was visible in the media van. Neither of them spoke until they reached the front door, when Chen handed Pike a pair of blue paper booties.

“Gotta put these over your shoes, okay?”

They slipped on the booties, then stepped into a large circular entry with a winding staircase up to the second floor. A towering grandfather clock stood guard at the stair, standing tall over a rusty crust of blood footprints that dotted the floor.

Pike felt odd, entering Frank’s home, as if he were intruding into a place where it was understood he would never be welcomed. He had glimpsed Frank’s life from the outside, but never from within. He had never met Cindy, or the boys, and now here he was in their home. Pike heard movement upstairs, and Chen glanced toward the sound.