“Not yet.”

“Jordie was found behind an abandoned Chevron station in Willowbrook. They used a box cutter on him. Wife and a child. You can relate to that, right? Me losing my guy. You losing your guy.”

“You believe Williams killed him?”

“Considering that Williams and his crew were Willowbrook homies, I’d say yes, but all we knew at the time is that a Crip set was involved. Jordie was trying to identify them.”

She returned the pictures to her pocket.

“What does this have to do with guns?”

“Darko works for a man named Milos Jakovich. Also known as Mickey Jack and Jack Mills.”

She arched her eyebrows, the arch asking if he recognized the names. Pike shook his head, so she explained.

“Jakovich heads up the original Serb set here in L.A.—the first of the old bosses to come over in the nineties. Think Don Corleone in his later years, but meaner. Jakovich is bringing in three thousand Chinese-made AK-47 assault rifles.”

The number stopped Pike. He tried to read if she was lying, but decided she was telling the truth.

“Three thousand.”

“Full-auto combat rigs that pirates stole from the North Koreans. So if Darko sends his killers to murder a man who used to be a professional mercenary, and who probably knows how to buy and sell weapons anywhere in the world, pardon me if I see a connection.”

Pike took a breath. A new element had entered the field, and now Pike felt a stab of doubt. He felt bad for having it, as if he were betraying Frank’s memory.

“Frank wouldn’t do that.”

“Tell you what? Let me figure out whether he would, since that happens to be my job. Here’s what’s more important—you’re going to help me get those guns.”

Walsh moved for the first time. She leaned forward, resting her hands on the table.

“Darko works for Jakovich, but he’s trying to take over the deal, pick his own buyer, and force a regime change. Old school out, new school in. That buys me time to find the guns, but if you keep dogging this guy, and he feels the heat—”

She snapped her fingers.

“Poof! The guns disappear, and they could be anywhere—Miami, Chi cago, Brooklyn. So—first—you’re going to drop your search-and-destroy.”

She didn’t give Pike time to respond, but pushed on, leaning even closer.

“These East European sets, if these bastards didn’t know you in the old country, they don’t talk to you, and they haven’t been in this country long enough for us to develop informants. My guy died trying to bust that lock, Pike, but you—I think you have someone inside with the Serbs. So—second—I want your contact.”