"Wrong, Pardy, which is something you'd know if you had paid attention at the Academy. I can pursue any matter I choose so long as I don't interfere with or obstruct you in doing your job. You might not like it, but if you arrest me on those grounds, you'll have to make a case not only to the district attorney but also to Internal Affairs. You'll get to tell them how you entered my home without paper, and how you missed the key card and showed up late at the motel. You'll even get to tell them how you tried to front me off even though everything I've done today has been done with the full knowledge and permission of LAPD. You'll look sweet with all that, Pardy. O'Loughlin might even help you pack."

Pardy watched me with the hard eyes as if his body had gone rigid, and he didn't know what to do because nothing was playing out like he imagined. Then he made it worse.

"I don't think you understand, Cole. Where's your gun? Let me see the gun you killed all those people with."

Pardy raised his right hand and rested it on the Sig's grip. A film of sweat made his forehead shine.

"I want to make sure you understand."

The hammer cocking on the Colt .357 Python at my front door sounded like cracking knuckles. Pardy turned to the sound, and shouted his warning like when he was in uniform.

"LAPD!"

Joe Pike said, "So?"

Pike stood framed in the shadows of the open front door with his .357 down along his right thigh. Pike was six feet one, with short brown hair and ropy muscles that left him looking slender even though he weighed two hundred pounds. He was wearing a sleeveless gray sweatshirt, jeans, and the Marine Corps sunglasses he pretty much wore 24/7, inside and out, daytime or night. Light from the setting sun caught the glasses, and made his eyes glow.

Pardy kept shouting, but had the sense not to pull out his gun.

I said, "This is my partner, Joe Pike. You read about him in the newspaper, too."

"I'm a police officer, goddamnit. Police officer! Put down that weapon! Tell him to put down the goddamn gun."

I looked at Pike.

"He wants you to put down your gun."

"No."

"What do you want to do, Pardy? You want to have a shootout? You were finished. If you want to arrest me, I'll go with you and we can sort this out with O'Loughlin down at the station. Did you want to place me under arrest?"

Pardy glanced back at me, and the moment was done. He could press it, but his shit was weak and he knew it. He was so tight his voice squeaked like a bad hinge.

"Sit this one out."