Hey, Scooter Skinner said, how you doing?
This Mr. Loveless Yamazaki said. He ask to meet you.
Gold flashed up at Chevette from the strangers grin. Hi there he said, taking his hand out of the side pocket of his long black raincoat. The gun wasnt very big, but there was something too easy in the way he held it, like a carpenter with a hammer. He was wearing surgical gloves. Why dont you come on down here?
How this works Freddie said, handing Rydell a debit-card, you pay five hundred to get in, then youre credited for five hundred dollars worth of merchandise.
Rydell looked at the card. Some Dutch bank. If this was how they were going to pay him, up here, maybe it was time he asked them what hed actually be getting. But maybe he should wait until Freddie was in a better mood.
Freddie said this Container City place was a good quick bet for clothes. Regular clothes, Rydell hoped. Theyd left Warbaby drinking herbal tea in some kind of weird coffee joint because he said he needed to think. Rydell had gone out to the Patriot while Warbaby and Freddie held a quick huddle, there.
What if he wants us, wants the car?
Hell beep us Freddie said. He showed Rydell how to put the debit-card into a machine that gave him a five-hundred-dollar Container City magstrip and validated the parking on the Patriot. This way. Freddie pointed at a row of turnstiles.
Arent you gonna buy one? Rydell asked.
Shit, no Freddie said. I dont get my clothes off boats. He took a card out of his wallet and showed Rydell the IntenSecure logo.
I thought you guys were strictly freelance.
Strictly but frequently Freddie said, feeding the card to a turnstile. It clicked him through. Rydell fed it the magstrip and followed him.
17. The trap
Costs people five hundred bucks just to get in here?
Why people call it the Trap. But thats just how they make sure the overheads covered. You dont come in here unless you know youre gonna drop that much. Gives em a guaranteed per-cap.
Container City turned out to be the biggest semi-roofed mall Rydell had ever seen, if you could call something a mall that had ships parked in it, big ones. And the five-hundred-dollar guaranteed purchase didnt seem to have put anybody off; there were more people in here than out on the street, it looked like. Hong Kong money Freddie said. Bought em a hunk of the Embarcadero.
Hey Rydell said, pointing at a dim, irregular outline that rose beyond gantries and towers of floodlights, thats that bridge, the one people live on.
Yeah Freddie said, giving him a funny look, crazy-ass people. Steering Rydell onto an escalator that ran up the white-painted flank of a container ship.
Rydell looked around at Container City as they rose. Crazier than anything in L.A. he said, admiringly.
No way Freddie said, Im from L.A. This just a mall, man.
Rydell bought a burgundy nylon bomber, two pairs of black jeans, socks, underwear, and three black t-shirts. That came out to just over five hundred. He used the debit-card to make up the difference.
Hey he told Freddie, his purchases in a big yellow Container City bag, thats a pretty good deal. Thanks.
Freddie shrugged. Where they say those jeans made? Rydell checked the tag. African Union.
Slave labor Freddie said, you shouldnt buy that shit.
I didnt think about it. They got any food in here?
Food Fair, yeah
You ever try this Korean pickled shit? Its hot, man
I got an ulcer. Freddie was methodically spooning plain white frozen yogurt into his mouth with a marked lack of enthusiasm.
Stress. Thats stress-related, Freddie.
Freddie looked at Rydell over the rim of the pink plastic yogurt cup. You trying to be funny?
No Rydell said. I just know about ulcers because they thought my daddy had them.
Well, didnt he? Your daddy? Did he have em or not?
No Rydell said. He had stomach cancer.
Freddie winced, put his yogurt down, rattled the ice in his paper cup of Evian and drank some. Hernandez he said, he told us you were trainin to be a cop, some redneck place
Knoxville Rydell said. I was a cop. Just not for very long.
I hear you, I hear you Freddie said, like he wanted Rydell to relax, maybe even to like him. You got trained and all? Cop stuff?
Well, they try to give you a little bit of everything Rydell said. Crime scene investigation Like up in that room today. I could tell they hadnt done the Super Glue thing.
No?
No. Theres this chemical in Super Glue sticks to the water in a print, see, and about ninety-eight percent of a print is water. So youve got this little heater, for the glue? Screws into a regular light socket? So you tape up the doors and windows with garbage bags and stuff and you leave that little heater turned on. Leave it twenty-four hours, then you come back and purge the room.
How you do that?
Open up the doors, windows. Then you dust. But they hadnt done that, over at the hotel. It leaves this film all over. And a smell
Freddie raised his eyebrows. Shit. You almost kinda technical, arent you, Rydell?
Mostly its just common sense he said. Like not going to the bathroom.
Not going?
At a crime scene. Dont ever use the toilet. Dont flush it. You drop something in a toilet, the way the water goes. You ever notice how it goes up, underneath there? Freddie nodded.
Well, maybe your perp flushed it after he dropped something in there. But it doesnt always work like its meant to, and it might be just floating back there You come in and flush it again, then its gone for sure.
Damn Freddie said, I never knew that.
Common sense Rydell said, wiping his lips with a paper napkin.
I think Mr. Warbabys right about you, Rydell.
Hows that?
He says were wasting you, just letting you drive that four-by-four. Bein straight with you, man, I wasnt sure, myself. Freddie waited, like he figured Rydell might take offense.
Well?
You know that brace on Mr. Warbabys leg?
Yeah.
You know that bridge, the one you noticed when we were coming up here?
Yeah.
And Warbaby, he showed you that picture of that tough-ass messenger kid?
Yeah.
Well Freddy said, Shes the one Mr. Warbaby figures took that mans property. And she lives out on that bridge, Rydell. And that bridge, man, thats one evil motherfucking place. Those people anarchists, antichrists, cannibal motherfuckers out there, man
I heard it was just a bunch of homeless people Rydell said, vaguely recollecting some documentary hed seen in Knoxville, just sort of making do.
No, man Freddie said, homeless fuckers, theyre on the street. Those bridge motherfuckers, theyre like king-hell satanists and shit. You think you can just move on out there yourself? No fucking way. Theyll just let their own kind, see? Like a cult. With nitiations and shit.
Nitiations?
Black nitiates Freddie said, leaving Rydell to decide that he probably didnt mean it racially.
Okay Rydell said, but whats it got to do with that brace on Warbabys knee?
Thats where he got that knee hassled Freddie said. He went out there, knowing he was takin his life in his hands, to try and recover this little baby. Baby girl Freddie added, like he liked the ring of that. Cause these bridge motherfuckers, theyll do that.
Do what? Rydell asked, flashing back to the Pooky Bear killings.
They steal children Freddie said. And Mr. Warbaby and me, we cant either of us go out there anymore, Rydell, because those motherfuckers are on to us, you followin me?
So you want me to? Rydell asked, stuffing his folded napkin into the oily white paper box that had held his two Kim Chee WaWas.
Ill let Mr. Warbaby explain it to you Freddie said.
They found Warbaby where theyd left him, in this dark, high-ceilinged coffee place in what Freddie said was North Beach. He was wearing those glasses again and Rydell wondered what he might be seeing.