T en hours start to finish, and I had Faustina's name and address, and a list of every call made from his motel. I was thinking about calling Diaz and Pardy when I realized I was hungry, so I picked up a couple of soft tacos from Henry's Tacos in North Hollywood and ate them on the benches out front. I wolfed down the tacos like a starving dog, then bought two more, slathering them with Henry's amazing sauce. I would probably have Faustina's life story by dinner, and his killer by bedtime. LAPD would probably beg me to clear their other unsolved cases, and I thought I might go along. Largesse is everything. When I finished eating, I worked my way up Laurel Canyon to the top of the mountain, then along Woodrow Wilson Drive toward my house. I was feeling pretty good until I saw the unmarked sedan parked in front of my house, and my front door wide open.

I parked off the road beyond my house, then walked back to check out the car. It was an LAPD detective ride with a radio in the open glove box and a man's sport coat tossed casually on the back seat. My friend Lou Poitras was a homicide lieutenant at Hollywood Station, but this wasn't his car. Also, Lou wouldn't leave my front door hanging open like an invitation to bugs and looters.

I went inside. Pardy was on my couch with his arms spread along its back and his feet up on the coffee table. He didn't get up or smile when he saw me. A black Sig hung free under his arm.

"You have a nice little place here, Cole. I guess it pays off, getting your name in the papers."

"What are you doing?"

"I was up here asking your neighbors about you. They say your car was here all night, so I guess you're in the clear unless something else comes up."

"I meant what are you doing here in my house."

"I saw your door open, but got no answer. I thought you might be dead or injured, you being a party to a homicide investigation, so I came in to render assistance."

I went back to my front door and examined the jamb. Neither it nor the lock showed signs of having been jimmied. I left the door open and went back to the living room. Two cabinets beneath my television were ajar and the stack of phone books on the pass- through between my dining room and the kitchen wasn't in its usual place. Pardy had searched my house.

"I can't believe you came into my house like this."

"I can't believe you went back to my crime scene this morning. I find it suspicious."

"Diaz knows I'm working the case. She gave me her blessing."

"Did she?"

"Ask her."

"O'Loughlin gave me the lead, and I don't need any help. Consider this a courtesy call."