The way he said it made Pike look closer. He now seemed familiar, but Pike did not recognize him.

The man held his badge higher, making sure Pike saw.

“What, Pike, you don’t remember me? Jerry Button, from Rampart. Out of Pacific Station now. This is Detective Futardo. We’re here on the Smith assault, so no shooting, okay? Don’t shoot us.”

Rampart brought back the name, but this Jerry Button looked almost nothing like the sharp young officer Pike remembered. This Button was thirty pounds heavier, with blotchy skin and puffy eyes. That Jerry Button had gone through the Academy a couple of years ahead of Pike, and was a fast-track patrol officer in Rampart Division when Pike was a boot. They had been friendly, but not friends. Button had shunned him when Pike resigned, but most of his fellow officers had. Pike couldn’t blame them.

Pike read their ID cards, more than a car-length away. Futardo was a D-1, which told Pike she was new to the Detective Bureau and fresh out of a car. Button was now a Detective-3, which was a senior grade usually held by supervisors. A D-3 was too much horsepower for a simple assault.

Pike said, “How’s Mr. Smith?”

Button ignored him as he put away his badge.

“You carrying a weapon?”

“Two. And the permits.”

Button nudged Futardo again.

“Told you. He’s always gunned up.”

Futardo’s face was a dark little bunker.

“Should we check the permits?”

“Nah. You can’t get away with dropping as many bodies as this guy without having your paperwork in order. Your paperwork’s in order, isn’t it, Pike? You good on the paper?”

Pike stared at Button until Button finally laughed, and held up his hands.

“Just kidding. Let’s go inside, talk about what happened.”

“Out here is good.”

“C’mon, let’s go inside. Inside is better.”

“The courtesy of a call gets you inside. No call, out here. The rudeness, out here is fine.”

Button darkened.

“Are you going to cooperate or not?”

“Ask your questions.”

“Here in the parking lot?”

“Here.”

Button cued Futardo to take out a pad.

“All right then, here. You know what we need. Tell us what happened.”

Pike related the sequence of events just as he had described them to Hydeck, including a description of the second assailant and the arrival and actions of the paramedics and police. Futardo scribbled fast to keep up, but Button looked bored, as if he had heard it all before and didn’t much care one way or another.

“According to Officer Hydeck, you produced a nine-millimeter pistol and told her you took it from Mendoza. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Mendoza claims you planted it on him.”

“What does Mr. Smith say?”

“Says he never saw the gun. Is he lying?”

Pike thought back over searching Mendoza.