Hunt had had to admit that they were.

And then Turner went on the offensive. Carter had heard him do it before. He reminded Hunt that all of these executives had places to go and important things to do, and maybe Hunt could better spend his time following the leads he had already developed through the process they were paying him for rather than harassing them in this ridiculous manner, thank you.

After the executive group broke up, Hunt had waited until they’d all left the building, then he’d sat down on the steps and had a brief talk on his cell phone. By the time he closed the phone and slid it into its holster on his belt, Carter was standing in front of him, arms crossed over his chest, leaning back against the wall.

“That Len Turner, he’s a force of nature, isn’t he?”

Hunt stood up, nodded in acknowledgment through a frustrated grin. “Al Carter, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir. I had a talk with one of your people the other day out at Sunset. Mickey?”

“Mickey it is.”

“And his grandfather is Jim Parr?”

“That’s him. Do you know Jim?”

“I do. He was my predecessor and taught me some of the driving ropes. It’s not all about steering and brakes and acceleration, you know. There’s a significant political component as well.”

“I’d imagine so. In any event, Mickey mentioned that he might be trying to see you again today, as a matter of fact.”

Al Carter’s wide, intelligent face closed down slightly. “He didn’t make an appointment.”

“No. I think he just planned to go out there and hoped he’d run into you.”

“Did he mention what he wanted to discuss? Maybe you and I can take care of it here, whatever it might be. Although I must tell you, my ignorance about Mr. Como’s movements that last night is near total. I dropped him off near his home, as I told your Mickey and the police, and had the limo back in the school lot by six-thirty. Then I went home myself. Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“The police impounded the limo last night. Do you have any idea why?”

“I presume they wanted to search it more thoroughly.”

“For what?”

“For whatever they find. You know they think they have the murder weapon?”

This brought a little snort. “Yes. Lorraine Hess told me. The tire iron.”

“Not necessarily the tire iron from the limo, but a tire iron certainly.”

“And are they sure?”

“Reasonably, yes. Unless there’s some way Dominic Como’s hair ended up on another tire iron that found its way into the Palace’s lagoon.”

“Yes.” Carter’s smile did not reach to his eyes. “That would be an impressive long shot. So, presumably I had access to the tire iron more than most. Am I then a suspect?”

“I haven’t heard that from the police. I don’t believe they have a suspect yet.”

“Ah, I was forgetting. We don’t have suspects anymore, do we? Only persons of interest. The vocabulary change affords me little comfort.” Carter’s lips pursed out, and then in. His facial muscles moved in a way that suggested he was trying to smile, but this time, his lips could not hold the expression. “Let me ask you this, then, Mr. Hunt. Among the potential suspects-people with access to the limo and the tire iron and so on-are there any other black men with prison time in their background?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Can you appreciate why this might be a matter of some concern to me? Of more than average concern?”

“Obviously. Don’t take this wrong, but might someone come to the conclusion that you had some kind of a motive?”

Carter’s eyes closed down almost to slits before he opened them again as the broad expressive face fell into relaxation. “I’ve had the job eight years. I’m an ex-convict. All the demographics predict that I shouldn’t have a steady job, much less an education, and yet I do. All compliments of Dominic, a generous and powerful man.”

“But there was a price,” Hunt said.

“If he wanted to go, if he needed to go, doesn’t matter where it was, what time it was, how long you had to wait for him, whatever he was doing, you either took him and took it or he’d find someone else who would. This was unstated and intuitively understood. And an absolute job requirement.”

“So you were essentially on call all the time? Even with the other drivers he used?”

This brought a mirthless laugh. “Again, I don’t mean any kind of slur. Dominic was a great man. It was a privilege to work for him. But for the interns, the younger people without criminal records, the girls… there wasn’t much in the line of actual driving, except to our work sites. Certainly they did not drive him to open- ended events, nighttime meetings with partners and constituents, other things…”

“Women?”

Carter’s smile and gesture were ambiguous. “In any event,” he said, “with the other drivers, the relationship was symbiotic. Dominic got good, presentable, inexpensive help, and then he placed that help with other people in the city who could help him. You want tickets to the Giants? The Warriors? The Niners? You want a parking ticket fixed? Or, more likely, a drug bust. You’d like the ear of your supervisor on a development issue?”

“But that wasn’t you? You weren’t in line for one of those jobs?”

“No. I was a lifer. I am a lifer. Except now, with him gone…” He spread his hands.

“And you’re concerned that someone might take that as a motive? That you wanted out?”

“Perhaps unwisely, I mentioned it to a few people. And I don’t really know if I did want that. What else would I do? What am I going to do now? But did I sometimes feel trapped? Yes. Might Dominic have heard about it and fired me? Perhaps. He didn’t tolerate disloyalty, even the hint of it. He might even have fired me on Tuesday.”

Hunt nodded. “Well, as motives go, I’d call that pretty weak. Even if anyone could prove it.”

“I agree. But my so-called alibis for both nights are also flimsy. I live alone and I was at home alone both nights. So, combined with my record, my race, the motive, the lack of alibi, and the fact that except for his killer, I was the last person to see him, the police-”

“I see what you’re saying.”

“Well, no, I’m not sure that you do, since I haven’t said it yet.”

Hunt waited.

“I’ve wanted to stay out of all of this to the extent that I could. Reward or no reward, I know how the police often go about their work. And I’m afraid-you see, it’s already happened to me once before-I’m afraid that they might find in me a path of least resistance. That’s the only reason I’ve decided to talk to you.”

“You know something.”

“Yes. And I only mention it with great reluctance because of everything I’ve told you about here today. I wanted you to understand me. If they don’t have someone else, there’s a likelihood they’re going to come knocking at my door.” He took a breath and held it, his lips again pursed and tight. “He fired Alicia Thorpe that morning.”