Barb was up. Pete heard her. Pete heard her fluff sheets.

Fred said, "I never liked Dom. He had the arrogance that always complements a big dick."

Pete grabbed him. Pete pinned his wrists.

"Talk to Barb. Keep her here while I take some pictures."

"Pete… Jesus… come on… I'm on your side."

Pete torqued his wrists. "Keep your mouth shut while I work this. I don't want any shit coming back to the Cavern."

"Pete, Pete, Pete. You know me. You know I am the Pharaoh's own fucking sphinx."

Pete let him go. Pete walked out. Pete jogged through the lot. Pete rehit the suite.

He unlocked it. He stepped in. He shot pix. Polaroids-twelve color prints.

He got the thumbprint. He got the bloodstains. He got the meat. He got the pink rugs. He got the knives. He got the spritz.

Pete shot twelve photos. The camera developed them. The camera made sounds. The camera cranked wet prints.

He grid-searched. He reloaded. He shot more pix:

Dom's thumb-drain-trapped-stuck between grates. A dildo/a hash pipe/hash dregs.

He dried the prints. He spread them out on a sofa. He grabbed the phone. He dialed L.A. direct.

Three rings-_be there_-

"This is Otash."

"It's Pete, Freddy."

Otash laughed. "I thought you were pissed at me. The Littell thing, remember?"

Pete coughed. His chest bipped. His pulse raced.

"I'm the forgiving type."

Otash yukked. "You're a lying frog fuck, but I'll let it go for old times' sake."

Pete coughed. His chest bipped. His pulse raced.

"Do you know Sal Mineo?"

"Yeah, I know Sal. I pulled him out of some grief with some high-school quiff."

"He's in the shit again, It's a two-man job, and I'll explain when I see you."

Otash whistled. "He's in Vegas?"

"I think he's driving back to L.A."

"Money?"

"We'll muscle him and work something out."

"When?"

"I'll catch a noon flight."

"My office, then. And bring some coin in case Sal craps out."

Pete hung up. The door jiggled. Lock tumblers clicked. Barb walked in. Pete said, "Shit."

Barb looked around. Barb saw things. Barb caught the drift. She toed a rug stain. She bent down. She pinched fiber tufts. She sniffed her fingers. She made a face. She said, "Shit."

Pete watched her. Barb rubbed her cheek. She looked around. She saw the wall stains. She saw the pix.

She studied them. She eyeball-cruised all twenty-four. She looked at Pete.

"Sal or Dom? Fred wouldn't say."

Pete stood up. His pulse raced. He grabbed a chair. He steadied in. He checked out Barb's cheek.

"What happened to your face?"

Barb winced. "Wayne did a good job of getting my attention."

Pete gripped the chair. Pete dug his hands in. Pete ripped fabric free.

Barb said, "I asked for it. I've asked for it from you, but Wayne cares about me in a different way, and he sees things you don't."

Pete threw the chair. It hit a wall. It gouged pink bloodstains.

"You're mine. Nobody's got the right to care for you, and nobody's seen things in you that I didn't see first."

Barb looked at Pete. Barb scoped the wall stains behind him. Barb closed her eyes. Barb ran. Barb ran straight past Pete.

o o o

Otash said, "Dom's in the trunk. I'll lay you six to one."

Car surveillance-Fred O.'s car-the seats pushed way back. Fred O.'s tarts and Fred O.'s cologne.

They lounged. They scoped Dom's T-Bird. They scoped Sal's apartment house.

Pete said, "You're on. I say he dumped him in the desert."

Otash lit a cigarette. Smoke billowed. Pete caught the backdraft.

Barb ran. He let her. She'd run straight back. Wayne hit her. Wayne loved her. Wayne's fucking cork snapped. Wayne loved weird. Wayne was fucked up. Wayne was woman-fucked. Wayne gets muscled soon. Wayne gets lectured soon. Wayne's cork gets desnapped.

Pete yawned. Pete stretched. Pete craved Fred O.'s cigarettes.

He scrubbed the suite. He wiped the walls. He burned the rugs. He called Dom's bun boy. He played dumb. He said where's Dom at? The geek said, "Huh?" The geek didn't know. The geek knew shit from Shinola.

He talked to his bellboys. They never saw Sal. Dom signed all the room-service chits. Dom booked the suite. That was good. That played their way.

Otash said, "Sal's on the skids. What kind of movie star lives in a fucking apartment?"

Pete scoped the street. We're in West Hollywood-the fucking Swish Alps.

"You mean what kind of coin can he have?"

Otash picked his nose. "Yeah, after he spends it all on fruit hustlers and dope."

Pete cracked his knuckles. "He's got a gold Rolex."

"That'll do for a start."

The sky went dark. Rain hit. Otash rolled his window up.

"You want to hear my one concern? That he's out spilling his guts to some faggot priest or the queens at the Gold Cup."

Pete cracked his thumbs. "He's out drinking. I'll give you that."

"Dom's in the trunk. I can smell his rancid ass from here."

"The desert. A hundred says so."

"You're on."

Pete peeled off a C-note. A car pulled up. Pete made the paint job-Sal's '64 Ford.

Sal parked. Sal got out. Sal walked inside. Pete cued Otash-we roll on ten.

They ticked down. They ticked slow. They hit ten. They got out. They hauled. They ran up. They made the front door. They made the main hallway.

There's Sal. He's at _his_ door. He's got his mail. He's got his key.

He saw them. He dropped his mail. He fumbled his key. They ran up. Pete frisked him. Otash grabbed his key.

He popped the door. He shoved Sal in. Pete grabbed a chair. Pete shoved Sal down. Otash pried his watch of f.

"This and half your pay for,your next picture. Cheap for what it gets you."

Brash Sal: "This is a gag, right? The Friars Club sent you."

Pete said, "You know what it is."

Bold Sal: "Yeah. It's a fraternity stunt. You and Freddy joined Chi Alpha Omega."

Otash buffed the Rolex. "Think back, _paisan_. You'll put it together."

Wise Sal: "I get it. I split the Cavern and didn't pay the bill. You're the collection agency."

Otash said, "The Cavern. That's a start."

Cool Sal: "I get it now. I made a bit of a mess. You want a damage deposit."

Pete said, "He's getting warm."

Otash said, "He'll be hot in two seconds."

Calm Sal: "You guys make a good team. The beefcake Abbott and Costello."

Pete sighed. "The time is upon us."

Otash sighed. "Yeah, just when I started digging on the repartee."

Smart Sal: "That's a big word, Freddy. You must have learned it in goon school."

Pete said, "The trunk or the desert?"

Otash said, "We've got a bet. I say he's outside right now."

Pete said, "The desert, right? You pulled off outside Vegas."

Otash said, "There's always Griffith Park. You've got all those hills and caves."

Pete said, "I saw one of Dom's movies. That thing had to be a yard long."

Brave Sal: "Hills, yards, shit. You're talking Sanskrit."

Pete hummed "The Man I Love." Otash flopped a limp wrist.

Sharp Sal: "I didn't think you guys were that way. Jesus, that's a revelation."

Pete sighed. Otash sighed. Pete picked Sal up. Pete slapped him. Pete dropped him.

Sal spit a tooth out. Said tooth hit Pete's coat. Otash slapped Sal. Otash wore signet rings. Otash laid cuts.

Sal wiped his face. Sal blew his nose. Sal made a mess.

Pete said, "This can all go away. I work the Vegas end, Freddy watchdogs you here. I don't want bad publicity at the Cavern, you don't want a manslaughter bounce."

Sal wiped his nose. Otash supplied a hankie. Pete pulled his photos. Pete tossed them. Pete hit Sal's lap.

Dig that disarray. Dig that drain hair. Dig that blood. Dig that severed thumb.