Chen finished filling in the boxes, then picked up the key card with a pair of plastic forceps and swiped it through a card reader. The information embedded in its magnetic strip instantly appeared on the computer.

00087662///116/carversystems//

0009227//homeawaysuites047//

0012001208//00991//

Chen tapped at the screen.

"Here it is, dude. It's from the Home Away Suites chain. The oh-forty-seven is probably the location. The one-sixteen is probably the room number. All this junk on the left side is just coding sequences. You don't have to worry about that."

I copied the information into my notebook. Room 116 at Location 47.

"What's Carver Systems?"

"The company that made the lock. Remember I said only three or four companies make this stuff? That's them. Does Diaz know you have the card?"

"Not yet. I was going to give it to her later."

Chen looked worried.

"I can't do this off the books. This is a homicide."

"I'm not asking you to do it off the books. Diaz knows I'm working the case. She's good with it."

"Then I'd better keep the card. I can have the CI send over the vic's prints to see if we get a match."

"Can you make a duplicate for me?"

"You mean make you another key card?"

"Yeah. Now that you have the codes, can you put them on another card?"

"Make you a key for room one-sixteen?"

"Yeah."

Chen looked uneasy again, cocking his head like a nervous parrot.

"This isn't some kind of grudge thing, is it, you thinking someone murdered your old man? If you kill somebody, it'll be my ass."

"He isn't my father."

"I'm going to tell Diaz I made a dupe for you. I'll tell Starkey, too.

"Tell them. That's fine."

Chen dug around in a cabinet until he found a box of blank cards. He typed on the computer some more, swiped a new card through the reader, then handed it to me. He didn't look happy about it.

"Room one-sixteen."

"Thanks, John. I owe you."

"You better not kill anyone."

I pocketed the card and started back through the lab.

"Hey, Elvis."

I stopped. John Chen was staring at me with the wary parrot eyes, only now the eyes seemed sad.

"I don't look like my father, either."

I went out to my car, but Starkey had already gone.

Chapter 9

H ome Away Suites was a chain of cheap no-frills motels geared to drive-by salesmen and people on their way to somewhere else. They were big in the Midwest, but had only six locations in Southern California, with two in the L. A. area, one being in Jefferson Park just south of mid-city, the other in Toluca Lake . Jefferson Park was closer to downtown, so I got their number from information, and called from the SID parking lot. A chipper young woman answered."Home Away Suites, your home away from home, may I help you?"

"Is this location number forty-seven?"

"Pardon me?"