“All I know was what Ricky said. White, black, Mexican, Chinese. Whichever fish were biting.”
CHAPTER
6
When we returned to the car, noon had passed. “Next closest is Mr. Roget. I’ll try his number.”
No answer, no voicemail. Milo started up the engine. “Damn. If he lives alone, I’ll need a victim’s warrant.”
He drove east on Arizona.
I said, “If there’s no one to talk to, maybe Leon Creech can help.”
“Why him?”
“They’re both older guys who drove livery independently.”
We’d met Creech last year, the driver of a hundred-year-old victim as well as her murderers. Informative, courtly, professional.
“Leon, there’s a gent for you,” said Milo.
“It’s worth a try.”
“Sure, why not, but first let’s see if Solomon Roget lives with someone I can traumatize.”
—
He didn’t.
No answer at Roget’s first-floor flat in a well-kept Spanish duplex on Hi-Point north of Olympic. A single vehicle sat far up a driveway that had been swept clean recently, under a gray canvas cover. Generous vacant space behind it. Enough for Roget’s limo.
Milo lifted a canvas corner. Black Cadillac.
“Wait here for a second.” He walked around the left side of the building, disappeared for a few seconds, returned. “No one in the backyard, no answer at the service door. I’ll push paper once we’re through spreading gloom.”
As he turned to leave, the door to the second-floor unit opened. A young, sweat-suited blond woman with a left-arm sleeve tattoo stepped out to the landing. In her arms was a swaddled baby. Long, stringy hair, droopy fatigued eyes.
“Hi,” said Milo.
“What’s going on?”
“Police.”
“For him?” said the woman. “Oh, shit, don’t tell me he’s a bad guy or something. We just moved in.”
“You’re talking about Mr. Roget.”
“Don’t know his name, just that he gets to keep two cars in the driveway ’cause the landlord likes him so we have to pay for a night permit.” She pointed to a dusty red minivan across the street.
“Tough deal,” said Milo. “Mr. Roget live with anyone?”
The woman’s eyes rounded. “Heisa bad guy?”
“Not at all,” said Milo. “Does he live alone?”
“Why?”
“Something bad happened to him.”
