“I know you want to get started. And I understand why. But if we go into this without a very clear idea of what we want to do and how we’re going to do it, we won’t get anywhere. López works for a cartel. He’s been doing that for years, and that kind of longevity, in that kind of business… It doesn’t just happen. He’s a careful and suspicious man. If we go out when we’re not completely ready, he’ll know. And we only get one shot at this.”

“Fine. Grab him off the street, throw him into the back of a car and take him somewhere quiet. You give me ten minutes with him.”

Milton stared at him. “And then what?”

“And…” He stumbled, unnerved by the ice in Milton’s eyes. “And he’ll give us everything we need to know about who killed my old man.”

“He won’t,” Milton said. “He won’t know. López is responsible for European business. He’s our way in, but that’s it. I work him carefully. I get him to trust me. I establish a business connection that might look like he’s going to make a lot of money, for him and the cartel. I take advantage of his greed. And then I parlay all of that into an introduction to whoever it is who’s up the chain from him. And then I do it again. I’m not just interested in whoever it was who gave the order to have your father killed, Chase. I want whoever gave the shooter the order and then whoever gave that person the order. I want them all, from top to bottom.”

“That’s too ambitious,” Chase said, although Milton could see that his frustration was draining out of him.

“No,” Milton said. “I don’t think so. I’ve worked this kind of angle before. We can do it.”

Chase nodded back toward the inside. “And them?”

“Who? Ziggy and Hicks?”

“They’re good?”

“I wouldn’t be able to do this without their help.”

Chase sighed.

“And you,” Milton added. “I need you, too.”

Chase bit his lip and looked out over the docks below the apartment block. He sighed. “I’m sorry. This whole thing… it’s been hard. What happened to my dad—it’s…” He stopped and sighed again. “Shit, you know. He used to have a saying—”

“Your dad had a lot of sayings.”

“He surely did. He said a man should keep his saddle oiled and his gun greased. He meant you needed to stand ready, and, when the moment comes, you go and you take care of business. I’m ready, John. And it feels like I been waiting a long while to get going.”

“I know,” Milton said. “It’s hard. Harder for you.”