"What'd the dude look like, Chris?"

"Don' know."

"Dude gives you his car keys, and you don't know what he looks like."

"It was dark-it's always dark there, that's why- Go look for yourself, it's always dark there."

"Dude you don't know and whose face you can't see just hands you the keys to his 'Vette, tells you to drive it home for him, gives you twenty bucks for the favor."

"That's right," said Soames.

"Why would he want to do that?"

"Ask him."

"I'm asking you, Chris."

"He had another car."

"Ah," said Milo. "Something you forgot to tell me the first time around."

"He- I-" Soames's mouth snapped shut.

"What, Chris?"

"Nothing."

"Part of the twenty was the dude told you not to say anything to anybody, right?"

Silence.

"Did he say anything about bailing you when you get busted for grand theft auto?"

Silence.

Milo got down on one knee, eye level with Soames. "What if I told you I believe you, Chris? What if I told you I know what this guy looks like? Tall, skinny, big nose like a bird's beak. Dresses all in black. Black hair, or maybe light brown. As in, wig."

Soames blinked.

"How'm I doing?"

Soames looked away.

"What if I told you you're a very lucky kid, Chris, because this is a very, very, very bad individual and you might be mixed up in something extremely heavy."

Soames's nose wrinkled. Dried snot crusted one nostril. His eyes were runny. His clothes smelled dirty, old, strangely metallic.

"Something unbelievably heavy, Chris."

"Right."

"Think I'm kidding you, Chris? How else would I know what he looks like? Why do you think I'm here at his house?"

Soames gave another abbreviated shrug.

"Accessory to murder, Chris," said Milo.

"Right."

"Hundred percent right. This guy likes to kill people. Likes to make it hurt."

"Bullshit."

"Why would I bullshit you, Chris?"

Soames said, "You-he-You better be bullshitting."

"I'm not."

Soames's eyes had turned wet. His lip was shaking.

"You know something, Chris?"

"You better be bullshitting," Soames whined. "I let him take Suzy."

Susanna Galvez. Female Hispanic, black and brown, five-two, 116. A DOB that made her fourteen years and seven months old. Missing-persons report filed eighteen months ago at the Bellflower substation.

"Parents suspect she's with her boyfriend," said Milo, pocketing his phone. "Male Caucasian, blond and blue, six to six-two, a hundred forty-five, goes by the name of Chris. No last name."

To Soames: "So, Mr. No Last Name, she ran away with you when she was twelve?"

"She's fourteen now."

Milo grabbed his collar. "You want her to make fifteen, tell me the rest of it, Chris. Now, you stupid little shit."

"Okay, yeah, yeah, I've seen the guy before, but I don' know him, that's the truth, man. Not a John, that was true, he just usually cruises. No name, he never told me no name."

"No name and he cruises Hollywood in the 'Vette," said Milo.

"No, no," Soames said impatiently. "Not the 'Vette, never saw the 'Vette before, the other car, this black Jeep. Suzy and I used to call him Marilyn, like Marilyn Manson, 'cause he's tall and weird-looking like Marilyn Manson."

"What's he cruise for?"

Soames's nose bubbled. Milo pulled out a handkerchief, wiped it, took hold of Soames's face again and stared into the boy's eyes. "What's his business, Chris?"

"Sometimes people-not me-score dope from him. Pills.

He's got boocoo pills, prescription shit. Not for me, Suzy either. I just seen him sell pills to other dudes. He has this girlfriend, white hair, all punked up, they both sell pills-"

"What happened tonight?"

"Me and Suzy were hangin' out, what time I don't know, we don't have watches, don't give a shit about time, had a couple burgers at Go-Ji's, we were headed back to this place where we camp-no B &E, it's like an empty squat, we camp there all the time, this guy Marilyn comes up and says he needs me to drive the 'Vette to his house, he knows I'm straight he can trust me, he just wants me to drive it there, put the keys in the mailbox, and take the bus back to 'Wood. Twenty bucks now and fifty more when he sees me tomorrow morning at Go-Ji's."

"What time tomorrow morning?"

"Ten. He's gonna meet me in the parking lot and give me the fifty and also give Suzy back."

"Give her back from where?" said Milo.

"I don't know," said Soames. He whimpered.

"He just took her and didn't tell you where or why?"

"He borrowed her, man."

"To make a movie, right? Guess what kind of movies he makes?"

Soames's shaking knee locked. He began to cry. Milo shook him out of it. "What else, Chris?"

"Nothing, that's it-you think he really could hurt her?"

"Oh, yeah," said Milo. "So think back, genius. Where did he say he was taking her?"

"I don't know! Oh, man!" said Soames. "Oh man, oh man-after we arranged about the 'Vette, he looked at Suzy and said she was real pretty and he could use her in this movie he was making, he's a producer. He didn't say nothing about where, I thought, Oh, man, her dad's gonna kill me."

"Why?"

" 'Cause a the movie-you know."

"You assumed he was making a fuck film," said Milo.

"No," said Soames. "I wouldn'ta- He said, 'Don't worry, no one's gonna mess with her, it's just a movie.' "

"What kind of movie? You handed her over and didn't ask him anything?"

"I- He- I think he said it was a thriller, she was gonna be like a main character, he needed to film her at night. 'Cause it was a thriller. He was gonna give us-her-a hundred bucks."

"In addition to the fifty?"

"Yeah."

"Generous."

"He said it was a big part."

"And he said he'd give you every penny of it, right?"

"It was for both of us, man. We hang together, but Suzy don't hold no money, I'm more responsible."

The deputies finally arrived. Milo let them take custody of Soames, and he and I hurried to the unmarked.

He pulled away fast, sped north.

"Two cars means two drivers," I said. "Before the escape, Crimmins and Heidi arranged a meet. Somewhere in Hollywood. But Crimmins knew Heidi wouldn't live out the evening, and with her out of the way, he needed someone to drive the second car. Most Hollywood streets have parking regulations; he couldn't risk a ticket. Also, the 'Vette's conspicuous."

"Why would he trust an idiot like Soames to transport it?"

"The idiot followed through, didn't he? Like I said, Crimmins is good at reading people. Or maybe he didn't care- was finished with the 'Vette."

"Just like that? He walks away from a car? And why would he be finished with it?"

"Because tonight marks a new stage in his life," I said. "And money's not his thing, it never was. The moment he has any, he lets it slip through his fingers. He grew up with fast toys, easy come, easy go. Easy to replace, too. He steals movie equipment, boosting another car's no big deal. The Jeep's not registered under any of the names we know about, either. For all we know, he's got a fleet stashed somewhere."

"Supercriminal. Daredevil Avenger."

"Let's face it, Milo, you don't have to be a genius to get away with felonies in L.A."

He growled, raced to Sunset, turned right. I closed my eyes and sat back, knowing exactly where he was headed. Moments later, I felt the car swerve, opened my eyes to see a freeway signpost. The 101 North. Very little traffic this late, and the I-5 interchange was only minutes away. He pushed the unmarked up to ninety, a hundred.

"Susanna Galvez," he said. "That Hatzler woman told you Derrick and his brother had a thing for Mexican girls."

"Nostalgia," I said. "Exactly. This whole thing's about reliving the good old days."