“What I mean is, the odds are against me discovering anything new. Neither the cops nor the companies will be eager to reopen a can of worms. They’ll resist.”

“They resist, they’re hiding something.”

“Hiding something is a rich person’s default mode,” I said. “Rich and untouchable.”

“Nobody is untouchable,” he said.

The problem with rich people and politicians is that even if they’re not guilty of a particular incident or crime, they’re guilty of something. Something that could be exposed via some clod snooping into their affairs.

“I’d be poking the bear,” I said. “Possibly two bears, counting Zircon. That raises the stakes. Toss a senator into the mix and the stakes amount to the family farm.”

“Recent history suggests you’re stupid enough to take it on despite the hazards. Or because of the hazards. Did I mention Jon thinks you’re really, really stupid? My kind of endorsement.”

“I’m extremely impetuous. He’s raw I got the better of him.”

“Opening bell in a title fight,” he said with a sneer. “Congratulations. You picked a live one for an enemy. Endless resources. Zero compunctions. Pet name basis with top cops. The family passes down its grudges like heirlooms.”

“Way to sell the job. I accept this case, he’ll be even madder at me.”

“Maybe a skootch madder. A cunt hair madder. You can handle that, bad boy.”

I wasn’t so sure. And because I wasn’t sure, I polished off my drink and waited.

“Impeccable and by the book aren’t what I need,” he said after a while. “RG plays hardball. So does Zircon. You think they might resist an inquiry. That’s an understatement.”

“What is it you do need, Mr. Adeyemi?”

“I need a bad news sonofabitch with a gun. Somebody who won’t be intimidated by corporate mercs, who isn’t averse to smashing heads. Somebody who doesn’t mind killing if it comes to that.” He leaned close, clasped my forearm, and grinned. “Because if some fool is responsible for breaking my sister’s heart, I hope it comes to that.”

Most detectives maintain a list of things they won’t do. Mine is short, so I memorized it. Adeyemi must have read my mail.

■■■

I drove home in the gathering dusk, chewing on the pros and cons. Three days later, Adeyemi was cooling his heels in a jail cell awaiting trial. Hell of a lot of difference that it made. He wasn’t done with me by any means.

CHAPTER FOUR

The next day, I went to Meg’s house and picked her and Devlin up.

She’d been cold with me this past week. A colleague from the library brought her son, Caleb, over to play with Devlin. The boys shared a second-grade class. The kid walked into the hall where Devlin kept a pair of goldfish we’d bought at the state fair. Tossed them on the floor and watched them die, then slipped the corpses back into the tank. No reason for it besides a psychotic thrill. Meg and the other woman were shocked. Devlin didn’t say anything; sat there while the adults gave the little shit the third degree and extracted the whole truth out of him. Caleb had been almost eager to confess. The second the interrogation concluded, Devlin calmly stood and decked the kid. Knocked him flat and gave him a few kicks to grow on. Meg said Devlin’s face was ghost-white and expressionless.