a peacoat and watch cap looked up, a gasoline rainbow at his feet.

EIGHTEEN

It was on Western the block above Third, a storefront church with services in Spanish and Korean depending on the night, formerly an adult bookstore, next to a new adult bookstore. Through the open doorway, twenty folding metal chairs, a low stage, a plywood pulpit. A Fender Stratocaster leaned against an amp. It was the end of the day and hot and the Wednesday night services wouldn’t begin for another hour but a few people were already in place. A seven-year-old girl in a dress the color of cotton candy played scales on the upright piano.

Jimmy and Angel were out front on the sidewalk.

Jimmy started by telling him about The Airplane People.

“Red Steadman owned the building the murdered boyfriend’s business was in, a flight school. I think somehow Danko got mixed up in some Steadman business and they killed him and Elaine Kantke for it.”

“I thought it was about disco,” Angel said. “What? Mixed up in what?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s all a long time ago,” Angel said. “I don’t see how any of it matters now.”

Jimmy had an answer for that.

“Rath-Steadman wants to build a new plant down in South Bay,” he said. “On some wetlands. That’s the link to today.”

He waited before he said the next.

“It’s down at The Pipe.”

Jimmy let it sink in. Angel’s eyes darkened the same way his had when he’d looked over the side of the little plane.

A skinny preacher got off a bus and walked toward them up the sidewalk carrying a white-cover Bible the size of a cake box. He rolled his hand across Angel’s back as he passed, not wanting to interrupt what might be a witnessing.

“So that’s the link with Sailors,” Angel said.

“I guess.”

“They want it to happen or don’t want it to?”

“I don’t know,” Jimmy said.

Angel shook his head. “Are you still seeing them?”

“Not since the chase in the park.”

“What about the German woman?”

Jimmy shook his head.

Inside the church, someone played a brash chord on the guitar. “What about Jean?” Angel said as it blew on down the sidewalk.

“I still haven’t seen her.”

“Why is that?”

“I stopped calling her, stopped going by.”

“Why?”

There was a billboard down the street behind Angel for some movie that had opened and closed a month ago. Now it was peeling in the weather. The stars, man and woman, beamed toothy grins out at Jimmy, in their confidence just about the most pathetic faces on the street.

“I knew your guys were watching out for her.”

“Go to her,” Angel said. “Tell her her daddy didn’t do it and whoever did is probably long since dead. Whoever did it and for whatever reason.”

Jimmy nodded.

“Get her in the now,” Angel said.

“I’m trying.”

“Get yourself in the now.”

Jimmy smiled. “I’ve never had much luck at that.”

“Then you can maybe see what there could be with her. You could use some love in your life.”

“I already got you,” Jimmy said.

The music inside started, drums, piano and guitar.

“You wanna come in?” Angel said.

Jimmy shook his head.

Angel pulled him close for an embrace, then pushed him away.

“Con dios.”

Jimmy started toward the Mustang down the street.

“ ‘Someday this wall shall crumble, tumble and fall . . .’ ” Angel called after him.

Jimmy turned. “What book of the Bible is that from?”

“Los Lobos,” Angel said.

Ike’s was dead and Scott wasn’t behind the bar.

Jimmy drank a beer. The handful of people who were there all had the same guilty look, embarrassed that they’d not known what everyone else apparently had known, that tonight you didn’t go to Ike’s.

The cop Connor came in. He was out of uniform, wearing his out-of-uniform uniform, a starched Brooks Brothers button-down shirt with the tail out over ironed, creased jeans.

“Nobody’s seen him,” Connor said. “His neighbor said he didn’t come back last night, after his shift.”

They were talking about Scott.

Jimmy turned around on the stool to face the bar, but avoided the image of himself in the mirror that was waiting there.

“What the hell is going on?”

“It’s getting close,” Connor said. “People are getting stressed. Let’s go look for him.”

Jimmy put some money on the bar and got up.

Then Jean came in. Angel and two of his men were behind her. The bodyguards were Hispanic. Big arms. Angel saw Jimmy and Connor, tipped his chin up to say hello. He and his men took a table out of the way as Jean came to the bar.

Connor stepped away to leave them alone. He went over to the jukebox. After a minute a