“I don’t know. I’m just blurting out ideas as I think of them. I’m giving you the benefit of my years of experience.”

Garrett smiled and finished his sandwich. “You don’t look happy with your lunch, Decker. You on a diet or something?”

“Not really, although I could take off a couple of pounds.” Decker drank up his coffee. “You know how it is, Rip. Sometimes it’s just not a cottage cheese kind of day.”

THE CELL PHONE went off at five in the afternoon. The window told Decker that the number was private. The man on the line was screaming. “Who the fuck is this?”

Decker took a few moments to gather his thoughts. “Lieutenant Detective Peter Decker of the LAPD. Who’s this?”

“A lieutenant? Sal Crane’s got a lieutenant in his pocket? Well, I’ll be damned!”

“I repeat. Who is this?”

“Rudolph Banks. Did you know that on my phone plan I have to pay for incoming as well as outgoing calls?”

Decker wanted to say: Then you could have saved a few bucks by answering my calls the first time, buddy. Instead he said, “First of all, I’m not in anyone’s pocket, let alone Sal Crane. I used the name to get your attention because you hadn’t returned any of my numerous calls.”

“I haven’t returned anyone’s calls because I’ve been on fuckin’ jury duty for the last five days. As an alternate! Do you believe that shit! I have to sit through some bullshit trial that was a total waste of my taxpayer time and my taxpayer money and I can’t even be part of saying whether the son of a bitch is guilty or not guilty. No, no, no, I have to park my ass on a rock-hard bench outside the courtroom waiting for those twelve motherfuckers to render a verdict just in case one of them happens to keel over And for this privilege, I get paid fifteen big ones a day plus fifty-three cents a mile gas one way.”

“You’re doing your civic duty.”

“No, it’s them who did their doodie on me. Thank God it’s over. What do you want, Lieutenant?”

“Thanks for asking. I’m currently working Homicide, Mr. Banks—”

“So what do you want with me? Whoever got whacked, I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“I’d like to talk to you about Primo Ekerling—”

“They caught the bastards. It was in all the papers, Lieutenant. If you give me your e-mail address, I’ll send over the articles.”

“I have a few questions that you might be able to help me out with.”

“So ask.”

“These kinds of questions are better asked in person.”

“I didn’t whack him. End of conversation.”