“Okay. Let me know.”
She said, “Pike?”
Pike waited.
“Don’t get second thoughts about killing him. Don’t make that mistake. Darko is mine.”
Pike said, “Sh.”
He hung up as Cole glanced up from the things he had spread on the table.
Cole said, “I think we have something.”
Pike went to see, thinking he had rules of his own.
32
Jon Stone
JON STONE DROPPED OFF Pike and his buddy at their cars, then drove back up the hill, but he didn’t return to his observation point. He would in a few minutes, but he wanted to take care of something first.
He parked outside Grebner’s house, noting that half the vehicles at the surrounding homes were Rovers just like his, and that almost all of them were black, also like his. He counted two white Rovers, and a silver, but all the others were black. Parking in this neighborhood was like hiding a tree in the forest.
Jon got out, went around to the rear, and opened the hatch. He dug around in his gearbox, selecting a sweet little nine-millimeter Sig he had rebuilt himself, along with its matching suppressor tube, which he had also built. He screwed the suppressor in place, checked to make sure no one was watching, then closed up his Rover and let himself into Grebner’s house.
Stone figured the three turds Pike described would still be trying to get loose, and, sure enough, there they were, the two outside, and the older turd there in the living room-Grebner.
Grebner was on his feet, stumbling around in a circle as he tried to see his back in a mirror. He had scored a pair of scissors, and was trying to cut the plastic ties binding his wrists.
When Jon walked in, Grebner looked over, saw the Sig, and froze like a stiff.
Jon said, “That guy who was here, with the dark glasses? He’s the nice one.”
Stone stripped the scissors from Grebner’s hand, kicked his legs out from under him, and dropped him to the terrazzo.
Stone said, “Watch.”
The two men outside saw him coming and tried to roll away, over and over like a couple of glowworms. One of them was barking in Serbian, but the other just kept rolling. Jon had to hand it to the guy.
Jon grabbed the barker by the feet, dragged him to the pool, and pushed him in. The other one managed to wedge himself against the bar by the time Jon caught him. Jon dragged him back to the pool, and tossed him in, too. They were splashing around like a couple of beached fish, and breathing about as well.
Grebner managed to gain his feet again, and ran to the front door, but lost a lot of time fumbling with the lock. Jon had locked it when he entered. Jon caught him at the door, dropped him to the ground again, then dragged him back to the living room. Dude slid easily across the terrazzo.
Jon said, “This is a lovely home, by the way. Wonderful view. Nice clean design. I have an interest in residential architecture.”
Jon bellied him out, then lifted his head by the hair so he could see the splashing.
“See that? They’re drowning. If those boys had the proper training, if they were true elite killers, they’d know what to do. That boy who was just in here? Sunglasses? He’d know what to do. Me, you could drop me in there like that, wouldn’t be a problem.”
Jon watched the splashing for a moment, and decided there wasn’t as much now as a few moments ago.
“Only you couldn’t drop me.”
Grebner said, “I told the other one everything I know.”
“I know. I just didn’t want him to have all the fun. You wanna go for a swim?”
“No!”
Jon smiled. Jon wasn’t going to throw him in.
But then Jon stopped smiling.
“You got a message to deliver. I just wanted to make sure you’ll deliver it in a timely fashion. You’ll do that, won’t you?”
“Yes!”
“I thought you might. Now let me ask you a question-does Jakovich have a buyer?”
“I don’t know. Michael say no, but I don’t know.”
“How about Michael? Why’s he hot for so much heavy metal?”
Grebner glanced away, which meant he was thinking. Thinking was bad. Stone snapped a hard right fist into his nose. He punched him again, then a third time.
Grebner snorted out streamers of blood, now spitting the words.
“He has a deal with the Armenians. Way over market price. He can make much. Way over much.”
“How much over much?”
“Three million dollars. He think maybe more.”
Stone dropped Grebner’s head. He admired the distant view for a moment, and thought, briefly, that he should probably drag those two assholes out of the pool, but then decided against it. He patted Grebner’s head.
“You boys truly fucked up this time.”
Jon left the lovely house, broke down and stored his weapon, then resumed his position at the end of the street.
He took out his cell phone, and called a friend of his who often dealt in illegal arms.
“Hey, bruddah-man! What’s the word on those AKs?”
Sitting there, he reminisced about the good times he had with Frank Meyer in foreign lands, and waited for something to happen.
33
COLE WENT THROUGH THE call log on Grebner’s phone, examining both the incoming and outgoing calls, and made notes in a spiral notebook. When he finished, Cole brought up the most recent incoming call number on Grebner’s phone, and held it out. Pike saw a number in the 818 area code.
Cole said, “This is the call you answered when the caller hung up. The incoming number.”
“Darko.”
“I think so. This is the last outgoing call, which is the pager number programmed to Darko’s name.”
Cole showed him a number with a 323 area code, then scrolled back through the outgoing call log.
“The second to last outgoing call went to the same number, which is the call we saw Grebner make before he threw the phone.”
“That’s why I think it was Darko. Grebner paged him, so he was probably answering the page.”
“Uh-huh, so check it out. This particular phone only retains the most recent twenty incoming calls and outgoing calls-”
Cole turned the tablet so Pike could see. Cole had listed the call numbers in two columns, along with the times and dates the calls were made or received. Cole had drawn an X next to almost half of the incoming numbers, indicating the calls were received from blocked numbers. Cole had drawn lines connecting three of the outgoing calls with three incoming calls. He pointed out the outgoing calls.
“Here’s Grebner paging Darko. See the times?”
“Yeah.”
Cole pointed out the corresponding incoming calls.
“Okay, over here he receives an incoming call within twenty minutes of making the page. One of the callbacks was from a restricted number, but two come from the same number as the call you answered up at the house.”
“Different locations?”
“That’s what I’m thinking. But why use a listed number? Twice?”
“No cell service. Nothing else available.”
Cole stared at the call lists for a moment, then picked up his phone.
“Let’s see what we get.”
Cole dialed the number, then listened. He listened for a very long time before he ended the call.
“No answer. I counted twenty rings, but nada. That usually means a phone is unplugged.”
Pike said, “Can you get an address?”
Two calls and twelve minutes later, Cole had an address. The phone number was listed to something called Diamond Reclamations in Lake View Terrace, up in the San Fernando Valley. When Cole lowered his phone, he nodded at Pike.
“It fits. Lake View is in the foothills up by Angeles Crest. Mountains mean bad cell service, so landlines are the way to go.”
Pike said, “Good start. How about I check out Lake View, and you see what you can get from the rest of this?”
Cole pushed the papers back into the grocery bag.