stepped out of the office. On Dill’s side of the car. Jimmy looked to his right and saw another cop next to the ice machine with a pistol in his hand, down at his side. They both wore body armor vests.

Jimmy liked drama as much as the next guy, but . . .

“What’s this?”

“The Federovs.”

“Here?”

“Live and in color.”

“So who’s in the special cells they built down at Terminal Island?”

“Russians all look alike,” Dill said. “Actually, the Federov brothers aren’t Russians. They’re Ukrainians. That’s one of the things that honks them off. So I make sure and call them Russians.”

By then, they were out of the car and walking toward the back of the U. Another guard stood in front of the door to a unit.

They’d ripped out the partitions between three or four units across the back of the motel, taken them down to the studs, and pulled out the ceiling up to the rafters. They’d sprayed what was left of the framing flat black. The cage that held the two brothers was dead center in the space, built out of gate and handrail iron and metal mesh. And painted black. They’d left the motel carpet on the floor, the bathroom in the corner. The carpet was dirty green. Another guard was fussing over a coffeemaker in the corner, in what remained of a kitchenette.

The brothers were playing chess at a Formica table. They didn’t look up until the door opened again, and the guard stepped outside for a second, on some signal from Dill.

“I brought a friend of yours to visit,” Dill said. “He thinks you’re being framed.”

“Yah,” one of the brothers said, the younger one, the bigger one. Everybody knew all about them.

“He loves Russians,” Dill said.

“He’s right,” the other brother said. “Innocent. Not guilty.”

“Leave us alone!” the first bellowed.

“Go ahead,” Dill said to Jimmy. “Look them in the eye. You tell me.”

“Yah!” the first brother said. “Innocent!”

And then he laughed.

When Jimmy came out, there was the Porsche, waiting for him. It was such a Sailor thing to do.

Jimmy opened the door.

“So. You all right, Brother?” Dill said, right behind him. “Did you see what you needed to see?

“Yeah,” Jimmy said. And he almost meant it.

What did he know about cracking a case?

Or even about guilt or innocence?

When Jimmy made it to the gate at the end of the long private road up in Angeles Forest, he yanked up the parking brake and killed the headlights but left the motor running. He got out. The gate wasn’t automatic. There wasn’t a remote control. In fact, he’d locked the gate when he left, a length of chain and a padlock. He unlocked it, shoved it open. He stood there a moment in the open gateway. After being in the city and then in the traffic, it all looked really dark. He thought he heard something out in the trees. The woods were thick all around him. He listened for the sound, but it didn’t repeat.

He’d had enough of noises, enough of suspicions.

Mary was in a deep sleep, but a gentle one. In the bedroom. With just a low light on beside the chair. She’d felt safe enough to turn out all the lights in the rest of the house and go to sleep in the bedroom. He pulled the wool Pendleton Indian striped blanket up over her shoulder, to send her even deeper into that peace.

He was about to sit in the chair at the end of the bed, to read away what was left of the night, when he heard their footsteps on the deck.

Loud. There was no intention to be quiet. Loud enough to make Mary stir.

He leaned over her, awakened her the rest of the way.

“Get in the closet,” he said when her eyes came open.

There was a sliding door from the living room out to the deck, to the pool. He could see them out there as he crossed the room.

Six of them.

He opened the door and stepped out.

He had already recognized one of the shapes: Angel. Detective Dill was next to Angel. Even in the dim light, Jimmy could see that Dill had an embarrassed look on his face. It was harder to say what the look on Angel’s face meant.

The blue edge around them was vibrant, all of them. This was official business.

Angel waited for Jimmy to look at him directly. When Jimmy did, Angel’s face said, It’s all right.

Whether it was or not.

The other men were less . . . conflicted.

There was