“So?” del Rio said.

“Your daughter,” I said.

Del Rio didn’t speak.

“I got it from her grandmother.”

Del Rio waited.

“Anything you don’t want him to know?” I said.

“Chollo knows what I know,” del Rio said. “Chollo’s family.”

“How nice for Chollo,” I said. “I know who your daughter’s mother is.”

“Yes?”

“Jill Joyce,” I said, “America’s cutie.”

“She tell you that?” del Rio said.

“No,” I said. “She hasn’t told me anything, and half of that is lies.”

Del Rio nodded.

“That would be Jill,” he said. “What do you want?”

“Information,” I said. “It’s like huevos rancheros to a detective.”

“Si,” del Rio said.

“Were you and Jill married?” I said.

Del Rio leaned back a little in his chair with his hands resting quietly on the bare desk top in front of him. His nails were manicured. I waited.

“Your name is Spenser,” he said. I nodded.

“Okay, Spenser. You think you’re a tough guy. I can tell. I see a lot of people who think they are a tough guy. You probably are a tough guy. You got the build for it. But if I just nod at Chollo you are a dead guy. You understand? Just nod, and…” He made an out sign, jerking his left thumb toward his shoulder.

“Yikes,” I said.

“So you know,” del Rio said, “you’re on real shaky ground here.”

“It goes no further than me,” I said.

“Maybe it doesn’t go that far,” del Rio said. “Why are you nosing around in my life in the first place?”

“I’m working on a murder in Boston,” I said. “And I’m working on protecting Jill Joyce. The two things seem to be connected and your name popped up.”

“Long way from Boston,” del Rio said.

“Not my fault. Somebody has been threatening Jill Joyce. Someone killed her stunt double. Jill won’t tell me anything about herself, so I started looking and I found her mother and then I found you.”

Del Rio looked at me again in silence.

“Okay, Spenser. I met Jill Joyce when she was Jillian Zabriskie and she was trying to be an actress, and I was starting to build my career. We were together awhile. She got pregnant. I had a wife. She didn’t want the kid, but she figured it would give her a hold on me. Even then I had a little clout. So she had it and left it with her mother. I got her some parts. She slept with some producers. I supported the kid.”

“You still got the same wife?”

“Yes. Couple years after Amanda was born, Jill’s mother started disappearing into the sauce. She was never much, but…” He shrugged. The shrug was eloquent. It was the first genuine Latin gesture I’d seen. “So my wife and I adopted her.”

“Your wife know about you and Jill?”

“No.”

“She know you’re the kid’s father?”

“No. She thinks we adopted her from an orphanage. We don’t have any other children.”

“How old is Amanda now?”

“Twenty.”

“What happens if your wife finds out?”

“Whoever told her dies.”

“What happens to her?”

Again the eloquent shrug. “My wife is Catholic,” del Rio said. “She is a lady. She would feel humiliated and betrayed. I won’t let that happen.”

“Amanda know?”

“No.”

We all were silent then, while we thought about these things.

“And Jill knows better than to talk about this,” I said.

“Jill don’t want to talk about it. Jill don’t want anyone to know she got a spic baby.”

“But if someone was looking into things you might want to squelch that,” I said.

“I wanted to, I would,” del Rio said.

“What if you sent some soldier out there to clip her and he got the wrong one,” I said.

“Get you killed,” del Rio said, “thinking things like that.”

I nodded. “Something will, sooner or later,” I said.

“Most people prefer later,” del Rio said.

We all thought a little more.

“I don’t like you for it,” I said. “It’s too stupid. Killing Jill or somebody else like that stirs up more trouble than it squashes. You’d know that.”

“Haven’t killed you yet,” del Rio said.

“Same reason,” I said. “You don’t know who knows I’m here.”

“You gotta understand something, Spenser.” He always pronounced my name as if it were in quotes. “I’m a bad guy. Maybe the baddest in southern California. But bad guys maybe have good sides too.”

“Hitler loved dogs,” I said. “I hear he was sentimental.”

“I love my wife. I love my daughter. I’m going to protect them-their privacy, their dignity, all of it. And if that means killing some people, I’m bad enough for that. And if it means not killing people I ought to kill, I’m all right there too.”

“Okay,” I said. “I buy it. What you told me is between us.”

“If it isn’t, you’re dead.”

“It is, but not because you might kill me,” I said, “… if you can.”

Del Rio frowned at me for a moment, then his face cleared.

“No,” he said. “It’s probably not.”

“What can you tell me about Jill?” I said.

Del Rio gestured toward the other green leather chair, the only other piece of furniture in the office. “I’ll tell you what I know.” he said.

Chapter 25

CHOLLO was still draped in the chair like a dead snake. The shadow of the bulky Mexican was still motionless outside the door. I was in the other chair, sitting in it backwards with my forearms folded over the back. It had grown dark outside the office and del Rio hadn’t turned on a light, so we all sat in the aftermath of sunset as del Rio talked.

“She was already starting to get a little attention,” del Rio said. “She had that face, and the body… eighteen years old, maybe. The face says I’m an angel, and the body says, The hell I am. We were at a fund raiser for barrio kids.” Del Rio paused to laugh softly. “Nobody there ever been to the barrio, except me. I was the most important barrio graduate they could find… and I was a crook.” He laughed again. “It was a fashion show, and the models were supposed to be well-known actresses and TV people, but mostly they were kids like Jill. She tagged on to me. She didn’t have much class, she didn’t know how to act, but she had a quality.” He shrugged. “I’m very loyal to my wife. I love her. I admire her. She’s not part of my business, she’s got nothing to do with that world. She lives in another one. I live there sometimes too. But in the business world I snack now and then… still do. It’s got nothing to do with her. Nothing to do with her world. You understand?”

I shrugged.

“Don’t matter if you understand or not,” he said. “Jill was just another snack. Except for that quality.” He paused again and thought about the quality. I waited.

“We were together maybe a year. Always careful, never embarrass my wife, but when she had the kid she started to turn the screw a little.”

Again he paused and thought about things. Again I waited.

“I’m not a good man to pressure; but this came close to the other world, if you follow me, and there was the kid. Whatever else she was, Jill was my kid’s mother. I couldn’t just have her clipped. So I supported the kid, and I went to see her when I could. It didn’t take long to see where it was headed. You’ve seen Jill’s old lady.”

I nodded.

“I got lawyers, I talked with my wife. I said there was a girl, daughter of one of my people. I said her father died, her mother didn’t want her. I said I wanted to adopt her. My wife is very proud. It was always a loss to her that she couldn’t have kids…” He spread his hands.

I nodded.

“We raised her careful. She went to school with the nuns. Goes to school now in Geneva. She plays the piano, speaks French perfect. Maybe you saw her when you came up the drive. Riding a white horse. Can ride like a jockey.”

I nodded.

“I bought her that white horse for her sixteenth birthday. From school she writes it letters. Her mother reads them to the horse.”

Del Rio looked at me hard for a moment. I made no comment.