The Night Crew

'Forget it,' Anna said, cutting him off. 'We've got problems.'

The first cop car arrived five minutes after Harper got off the phone: not Burbank, but North Hollywood. Burbank was two blocks away. The cops talked to Harper, briefly, a little chilly, and started the murder routine: cops around the house, neighbors on lawns, yellow crime scene tape, medical examiners, L.A. homicide detectives and, eventually, Wyatt. He nodded wordlessly as he passed them, flashed a badge at a cop outside the door and went in. Five minutes later, he was back out.

'What a mess,' he said.

'Yeah,' Anna said. 'And we had a prowler at my house this morning. He had a gun.'

'I hope you called someone,' Wyatt said.

'I live in Venice. The neighbors chased him off, the cops came over and had a Coke.'

'Might not be you,' Wyatt said. 'I mean, on the guy's chest.'

She got a quick mental flash of the body, and felt herself tighten up: whoever had done that was far gone. But she wouldn't fool herself, either: 'C'mon, how many Annas do you know?'

Wyatt said, 'All right. I don't want to scare you any more than you are, butremember the cuts on O'Brien's face? I thought they looked like gang marks?'

'Yes?'

'They were like this, remember?' He made a quick slashing triangle design on the palm of his hand with the opposite index finger.

'Triangles,' Anna said.

'Or A's,' Wyatt said quietly. 'Upside-down As.'

'Oh, no.' She put her hands to her cheeks. 'Can't be A's.'

'Could be,' Wyatt said. 'We gotta have a serious talk with the L.A. guys.'

'Are they upset?' She looked toward the house. 'About us going inside?'

Wyatt glanced toward Harper: 'Not as much as you might think.'

'Wasn't her fault anyway,' Harper said, stepping into the conversation. 'She didn't know what she was gonna see. I took her in. I thought she might say somethingmight know the guy.'

'Did she?'

Harper glanced at her, then suddenly grinned, the first time she'd seen him smile. Nice smile, she thought. 'No. She went outside and barfed.'

'Did not,' Anna said.

Creek, looking past them, said apprehensively, 'Uh-oh, here we go.'

An L.A. detective was headed their way, the languid, dangerous stroll affected by cops when they were being cool. He was carrying a rolled pamphlet. He glanced at Anna, nodded at Creek and said to Harper, 'How are you, Jake?'

A movie line: one that should have been followed by a cigarette flicked into the street. Harper shrugged: 'You heard about my kid.'

'Yeah. Brutal.' The detective looked back at the house, and then said, 'Listen, I know this is a really horseshit time to ask you this, but I got a problem. I gotta come see you. About Lucy.'

'Gonna do it this time?'

'I gotta. She's crazier than a shithouse mouse. If I don't get out of there. but I can't leave the kids.'

'Call me,' Harper said.

'I'm hurtin' for cash.' The cop was embarrassed.

'We'll put it on your Sears card,' Harper said. He poked the cop in the ribs, and the cop nodded and said, 'I'll call youthanks.' He nodded at Anna, glanced at Wyatt and strolled away.

'What was all that about?' Anna asked Wyatt.

'Jake's a lawyer,' Wyatt said. 'He has about half the cop business in the county.'

'I thought you said he wasa cop.'

'Was. Ten years ago.'

The lead detective's name was Carrol Trippen, a tall, impatient, prematurely white-haired Anglo. He split them up, talked to each of them for a moment, compared their stories and finally sent them downtown to make statements.

'Are we in trouble? Should I get a lawyer?' Anna asked, as Trippen started back toward the house.

'Harper pisses me off, calling you guys,' Trippen said sourly. 'But it wasn't your fault, and I know where he's coming from. I got bigger things to worry about than hassling people who looked at a dead guy.'

The cops kept Anna, Harper, Creek and Louis apart until the statements were done. Anna was interviewed by a sleepy cop with bad breath and a yellow shirt with a new coffee stain.

When they finished, he peered at her over his coffee cup and said, 'Tell you what: You know this guy. The killer.'

'If it's me.' She'd been having second thoughts.

'C'mon. Even youthink it's you.'

'So what do I do?'

'First thing is, with this prowler you had, I'd move out of your house. Stay at a motel for a few days, don't tell anybody where you are. When you've got to work, meet your friends somewhere. You got a cellular, anybody can get in touch if they need to.'

'I'll think about it,' Anna said, but she wouldn't leave her house.

'Do that. And I need you back this afternoon, if you can make itwe got a shrink and a serial killer profiler, they're gonna want to talk to you.'

'You're sure he did both Jason and Sean?'

'Trippen talked to Wyatt, and they think so. He says there's a level of violence there. You don't see it on the average murder. And this Sean was tied to the Jason guy, and Jason was tight with you.'

'All right.' And she knew himbut who was it?

Harper and Creek were waiting in the lobby when Anna got out. Louis was wandering around with the truck, waiting. When Creek saw Anna step out of the elevator, he dug out his cell phone, pushed a speed dial, got Louis: 'We're ready.'

'Are you headed home?' Harper asked, as the three of them walked down to the exit.

'I guess,' Anna said. She glanced at her watch. 'The night's shot.'

'Are you moving out of your house?' Harper asked.

'No.'

Then I'd like to come by and look around,' he said.

'Bad idea,' said Creek.

Harper turned to him: 'Look, I used to do this for a living. I want to see where she liveswhat the place is like. If the news is bad, I want you to help get her out of there. I'd just as soon she didn't get carved up until I find the guy who did my kid.'

'That's very sentimental,' Anna said.

Harper shrugged: 'I've got priorities.'

Creek was nodding: 'And you've got a point.' To Anna: 'Maybe I should stay over.'

'Good idea,' Harper said.

Anna shook her head, said to Creek: 'You'd drive me nuts.' And to Harper, 'When he lays around the house, he lays aroundthe house.' Nobody smiled at the old vauderville line.

'This ain't a comedy routine,' Creek grumbled. Then: 'Maybe we could get the cops to send somebody over, protection.'

'Fat chance,' Harper said. 'You know how many serial killers are running around L.A. right now? Probably a half-dozen.'

Anna grunted, 'Huh,' and glanced at Creek. 'Half-dozen?'

'No,' Creek said, following her thought, shaking his head. 'We ain'tdoing no story on that.'

Anna sent Creek and Louis home in the truck. Louis was shook, having talked with the cops twice in two days, having had statements taken. Louis thrived in anonymitysought it, treasured it. 'Everything's gonna be okay, right?' He was anxious, twisting a shredded copy of the L.A. Readerin his hands.

'Yeah, for us,' Anna told him. 'You guys take the truck, go home, get some sleep.'

'I just don't want anything to happen to us. to you,' Louis said, eyes large. 'I mean, if anything happened to you. what'd happen to me?'

'It'll be okay, Louis,' she said, giving him a quick smile and a pat on the back. 'I promise.'

When she told him she'd ride with Harper, Creek took her aside to whisper furiously: 'What the fuck is this? You don't even knowhim, he could be, you know, the guy.'

'Nah, we know what he's doinghis kid,' Anna said.

'Oh, horseshit,' Creek said in exasperation. He added: 'You started acting perky as soon as we met him outside the house, and now you're starting again.'

'Perky?' That made her mad. She put her hands on her hips and started, 'What are you.'

'Figure it out,' Creek said, and he stalked off to the truck. When he got there he turned and said, 'And what about Clark?'

Smack.

But he was in the truck and kicking it over before she could think of a proper reply.

Harper drove a black BMW 740IL. The cockpit showed as many ant-sized instrument lights as a jumbo jet. A half-dozen golf putters cluttered the passenger side. Harper popped the passenger door for Anna and tossed the putters in the back.