The Google Maps feature was like having a spy satellite. Pike typed in Rahmi’s address, and there it was—all of Compton spread out thousands of feet below. Pike zoomed in for a closer look, then went to the street view, which allowed him to see Rahmi’s building as if he were standing in the street. Faded paint. Dying grass. Big Wheel on its side. The Google pictures had been taken on a bright, sunny day, and might have been taken months ago, but they were a good place to start.

Rahmi Johnson lived in a green two-story apartment building 1.67 miles north of the Artesia Freeway in Compton. His building was shaped like a shoe box, with three units on bottom, three on top, and a flat, featureless roof. Rahmi had the center ground-floor apartment. Single-family homes and similar buildings lined Rahmi’s side of the street, set on lots so narrow that some of the homes were turned sideways. Rahmi’s building was sideways. Almost every yard was protected by short chain-link fences, and almost every house had security bars on its windows. The opposite side of the street was lined by single-story commercial buildings.

Because of the sideways orientation, the side of Rahmi’s building faced the street and the front of the building faced the next-door neighbor’s property. Residents entered through a chain-link gate, passed the Big Wheel, then went along the length of their building to reach their apartments. This sideways orientation made it difficult for Pike to see Rahmi’s door from the street. He considered this, and knew the police would have the same problem.

Pike was studying the buildings surrounding Rahmi’s apartment house when his cell phone rang. He saw it was John Chen, and took the call.

“Yes.”

“We confirmed a fourth gun to go with the fourth set of shoe prints. Three of the four guns were used in the earlier murders, but the fourth gun was not. That fourth gun showed casings in the nanny’s room and the family room.”

“How many?”

“Three. The fourth gunman shot Frank Meyer once, and put both bullets in the girl—Ana Markovic. We’re still matching the other bullets and casings, but that’s the prelim. I thought you’d want to know.”

“Thanks.”

Pike put down the phone, and thought about the fourth shooter. The new guy. Someone who had not taken part in the earlier invasions, but had gone to Frank’s house. Pike wondered why a fourth man had joined the crew. Had the original three members known about Frank’s background, and expected more resistance?