Viktor said, “The accent that the store owner heard from the man was different from the woman’s. But everybody is Russian Mafia to people in Hollywood. Actually, Glendale has a very big Armenian population. Many go to the Gulag, where my tip has come from. Criminals from all over former USSR go to the Gulag to drink and dine, including criminals from former Soviet Armenia. But for now, we have this Russian who was a jewel robber in his past life.”

“This isn’t much to go on,” Andi said.

“We have nothing else,” Viktor said. “Except I believe that a theft of mail from a certain mailbox on Gower is where the information about the diamonds was learned about. If only I could get a clue to the mail thief.”

“We can’t stake out every mailbox in the area, Viktor,” Brant said.

“No, Brant, we cannot,” Viktor said. “So that is why I would like to try this thing today. I know it is a far shot.”

They parked on the next block, and Viktor diligently watched the front door of the auto parts store through binoculars while Andi turned in her seat to chat with Brant about how he liked Hollywood so far and where was he on the lieutenant’s list.

Brant was surprised to learn that Andi had a son in the army serving in Afghanistan, and said, “Don’t think I say this to all the ladies, but really, you don’t look old enough.”

“I’m plenty old enough,” she said, hoping she hadn’t blushed. Next thing, she’d be batting her lashes if she didn’t get hold of herself.

“I think Afghanistan’s fairly quiet these days,” he said.

“Last year he was in Iraq,” she said. “I don’t like to think about how I felt during those months.”

Brant was quiet then, feeling very lucky to have daughters living safe lives. He couldn’t imagine how it must feel to have your only child over there in hell. Especially for coppers, whose assertive, in-your-face personality is of absolutely no use in such a situation. To just feel helpless and frightened all the time? He believed it must be extra hard for the parents who are police officers.

Viktor lowered the binoculars, picked up a mug shot from his lap, and said, “It is Lidorov. He is wearing a black shirt and jeans. He has what looks like hair made of patent leather and has a gray mustache and is of medium size. He is walking toward the big mall half a block from the auto parts store.”

Andi was dropped on the east side of the mall and walked inside a minute after Lidorov entered. At first she thought she’d lost him, but heading toward the food court she spotted him.

Lidorov paused before the Greek deli, where two Latino men were making gyros, then moved on to an Italian takeout, where another young Latino was expertly tossing a pizza. Then he settled on Chinese fast food and ordered something in a carton along with a soft drink in a takeout cup. From another Latino.

Andi watched from the Italian side and wondered if chopsticks would be better or worse than forks for the collecting of DNA evidence. But Lidorov shook his head when offered chopsticks and took a plastic fork instead. He sat down at one of three small tables in front of the counter and ate from the carton and sipped his drink and ogled any young women who happened to pass by.

When he got up, she was ready to bus his table for him and scoop up the fork and the drinking straw. But she never got the chance. He took the unfinished carton of food with him along with the cup and strolled back toward the entrance, drinking from the straw. She assumed the fork was in the carton, so now what?

Lidorov went out the door into the sunlight, stretched a little, and strolled right past two perfectly good trash receptacles where he could have dropped the carton and the cup.

Litter, you bastard! Andi thought, following as far as she dared. But since there were few pedestrians on the sidewalk, she crossed over to the other side of the street and waited to be picked up.

When Viktor drove alongside, she got in and said, “Sorry, Viktor. He’s taking his lunch back to the store.”

“Is okay, Andrea,” Viktor said.

“Whoops!” Brant said, looking through the binoculars. “He’s not a litterbug.”

Two minutes later they were parked just east of the little strip mall that housed the auto parts store. Next to the wall in the parking lot was a very tall trash dumpster sitting on a thick concrete slab. All three detectives were standing in front of it with the lid raised.

Viktor and Brant, who were both more than six feet tall, pulled themselves up, their feet off the asphalt, and peered down inside the dumpster.

After getting back down, Viktor said to Andi, “Do you want the news that is good or the news that is not so good?”

“Good,” Andi said.

Brant said, “Looks like they dumped the trash this morning. There’s hardly anything in there. We can see the Chinese takeout carton and the drinking cup and straw.”

“Bad news?”

“We can’t reach it without somebody climbing inside,” Brant said.

“Well, I guess one of you fashion plates is going to get your suit dirty,” Andi said.

“Andrea,” said Viktor, “I am so outside of good shape that I truly do not think I can do it. I am thinking that if I spread my coat over the top here so that you do not mess up the beautiful sweater from Bananas, you could lie down over the top here and reach down and get the fork and the straw?”

“And how do I keep from falling in right on my head?”

“We would each hold you by a leg,” Brant said.

“Oh, you think it’s a good idea too?”

“I swear to you, Andi,” Brant said. “I don’t think I could do it without a ladder. And if we mess around here much longer, somebody’s gonna see us and the element of surprise will be lost. Even if we do get a match, he’ll be long gone, maybe clear back to Russia.”

“My heroes,” Andi said, slipping off her pumps. “Good thing I’m wearing long pants.”

With each man holding a bare foot, Andi was boosted up to the edge of the dumpster, lying across Viktor’s suit coat, and very reluctantly she allowed herself to be lowered upside down until she got hold of the carton and the cup.

“Get me outta here. It stinks,” she said.

When they were back in the car, the fork and drinking straw in a large evidence envelope, Viktor said, “My coat must go to the cleaners. How is your sweater, Andrea?”

“Other than busting a bra strap and bruising my belly and thighs, I’m okay. This lunch better be good, Viktor.”

It was. Viktor took them to a whimsically designed Russian restaurant on Melrose, where they had borscht and black bread and blinis and hot tea in a glass. And even got to hear dreamy Russian violins coming from the sound system, with Viktor acting every inch the host.

“Sometimes they make Ukrainian dishes here,” he told them, as they drank their tea.

“I don’t think I’ll do Pilates tonight,” Andi said. “You guys stretched every muscle in my body.”

“Speaking of muscles, yours are way better developed than mine,” Brant said. “Your legs are buff. I mean, they felt strong when I was holding them.”

That look again. Andi was sure he’d make a move after today’s little exercise. Maybe after they got back to the station and Viktor was otherwise occupied.

“I try to stay in shape in case I’m called on for dumpster diving,” she said. “They should make it an event in the police Olympics.”

When Viktor went to the restroom, Brant said, “Andi, I was wondering if maybe sometime you might like to join me for dinner at a new trendier-than-trendy-ever-gets restaurant called Jade that I’ve been reading about.”

Thinking, At last! she said, “I’d like to have dinner with you, but that’s pretty pricey. I read a review.”

He said, “My daughters’re long past child support and my ex remarried ten years ago, so I’m independently comfortable. But on second thought, maybe I’m too old for a place like Jade.”

“You look younger than I do,” she said.