Pike said, “Here’s where you leave.”

Rina went directly to Cole’s Corvette, and got in as they had planned. She did not dawdle, stare, or draw attention to herself. Pike liked that about her.

Cole’s voice came from the phone.

“You want Jon to come in?”

“I’m good. Get her gone.”

Cole backed away, and cruised out of the parking lot.

The bagman was inside for less than ten minutes. For him, picking up cash from four prostitutes was just another stop in a day filled with stops-something to be accomplished quickly, and without wasted energy. The girls probably felt the same.

When the man merged from the building, Pike stepped out of the Jeep, but hung back to be sure he was returning to his car. When the man angled toward the Beemer, Pike made as if he was heading for a nearby car, but Darko’s boy never once looked at him. He passed in front of Pike within ten feet and swung around the Beemer’s rear end. As he opened the door, Pike closed the gap. When the bagman slid in behind the wheel, Pike came up along the passenger’s side, and lifted himself over the door and into the passenger’s seat.

The man lurched in surprise, but by then it was too late. Pike showed him the.357, down low so no one could see.

“Sh.”

The man’s eyes went wide as oncoming headlights, but he was a burly guy who was used to muscling people. He lunged for Pike’s gun, but Pike rolled his hands down and away with a minor wing chun deflection, and snapped the Python up hard into the bottom of the man’s chin, popping his jaw like a rat trap. The Python flicked again, and this time Pike hit him in the Adam’s apple.

The bagman clutched at his throat, choking. His face turned bright red.

Pike took the key from his hand, fit it into the ignition, the convertible top. He had to keep the button depressed throughout the process, but that was okay. His arm was a steel bar with his tattoo in the bagman’s face. Pike wanted him to see the red arrow.

Pike didn’t move or speak until the top was in place and the windows were closed, and neither did the bagman. He was too busy trying to breathe.

Pike said, “Grab the wheel. Both hands.”

He grabbed the wheel.

“Try to escape, I’ll kill you. Try to grab this weapon again, I’ll kill you. Do you understand?”

“This is a mistake, my man. I don’t know what you-”

Pike backfisted him hard on his temple, striking so fast the man had no time to react. His head bounced off the window, and Pike caught him again on the rebound. The second backfist made his eyes flag.

Pike jerked him upright, then dug his thumb into a nerve bundle between the man’s ribs. The man moaned, and pushed weakly at Pike’s hand, so Pike hit him again. The man covered his head.

Pike said, “Grab the wheel. Grab it.”

The man grabbed the wheel with both hands.

“Try to escape, I’ll kill you. Try to take this weapon again, I will kill you. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Jesus, stop hitting me. Please-”

“If you let go of the wheel again, I’ll kill you. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

The man’s knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip. Blood from his mouth dripped onto his shirt, and the corner of his eye at his temple was swelling.

Pike said, “What’s your name?”

“Vasa.”

“I’m going to search you, Vasa. Don’t let go of the wheel. Do not r esist.”

Pike went through Vasa’s pockets, finding a black ostrich wallet, a Nokia cell phone, and four thin vinyl billfolds.

Pike said, “One from each girl?”

“Yes.”

“They have the money ready? You stop by, they give it to you?”

“You know who this belongs to?”

“Me.”

Pike thumbed through the bills, mostly hundreds and twenties, and counted out thirty-eight hundred. He tucked the money into his pocket.

“Where’s the rest?”

Vasa blinked at him.

“What rest? That’s it.”

Pike stared into Vasa’s eyes, and finally Vasa sighed.

“Under the seat.”

Pike found another seventy-three hundred dollars under the seat, and added it to the cash in his pocket. That made eleven thousand, one hundred dollars of Darko’s money.

Pike studied Vasa. He stared at Vasa so long, the man turned away.

“Why are you staring at me? Who are you?”

“My name is Pike. Say it.”

“You are Pike?”

“Say the name. Say it.”

“Pike. I say it. You are Pike.”

“Look at me.”

Vasa cringed as if he was certain Pike would hit him again.

Pike touched the arrow on the outside of his arm.

“See this?”

Vasa nodded.

“Tell me you see it.”

“I see it.”

“Where is Michael Darko?”

Vasa’s eyes grew into saucers again.

“I don’t know. How would I know?”

“Call him.”

“I don’t have his number. He is the boss. Why are you taking his money? This is crazy. He will kill you for taking his money.”

Pike studied Vasa a moment longer.

“Tell Darko I’m coming.”

Pike got out, taking the money, the wallet, the keys, and the cell phone.

Vasa said, “What am I supposed to do without my keys?”

Pike returned to his Jeep, and circled the parking lot until he pulled up behind the Beemer. He wanted Vasa to see his Jeep, too. He motioned for Vasa to roll down his window.

Inside the BMW, Vasa couldn’t roll down the window without the keys, so he opened the door.

Pike tossed out his keys, then drove away.

Pike drove exactly two blocks, then pulled to the curb, and lifted his cell phone.

“What’s he doing?”

“Getting on the freeway. Jon’s three cars behind him, and I’m behind Jon.”

Pike pushed hard to catch up.

THEY FOLLOWED THE BEEMER east across the bottom of the San Fernando Valley, Pike watching Cole and Jon Stone take turns behind the Beemer. The BMW drove steadily, in no great hurry to get where it was going. Vasa probably wasn’t looking forward to explaining what happened to Darko’s money.

They stayed on the Ventura Freeway past the Hollywood split, but took the first exit, climbing up Vineland past the aging shopping centers and strip malls of North Hollywood. Cole tightened up on the Beemer when they left the freeway, and Jon fell back. Ten minutes later, Cole once more spoke in Pike’s ear.

“Blinker. We’re turning up ahead on Victory.”

Neither Pike nor Stone responded.

Three minutes later, Cole spoke again.

“Turning again. A place called the Glo-Room. We’re going past to the first cross street.”

Jon Stone said, “Sweet. Strippers.”

Two blocks ahead, Pike caught a glimpse of the BMW turning, and spoke to Cole.

“Does she know the place?”

“She’s heard of it, but never been here. It’s one of the places she told me about.”

When Pike passed, he glimpsed Vasa’s convertible parked in a narrow parking lot alongside a black single-story building. A marquee sign jutted out from the front of the building, saying GLO-ROOM GENTLEMEN’S CLUB-AMATEUR NITE WED. Pike continued past to the first cross street, where the other two cars were waiting. Cole and Rina were already waiting in Stone’s Rover. Pike pulled in behind them, parked, then climbed into the Rover’s front passenger seat. Stone immediately turned down an alley to circle around behind the bar. The alley ran between the shops and stores that lined the main street and a long row of additional parking spaces and Dumpster bins.

Pike said, “Stop short.”

Stone stopped three doors away, parking behind a pet store. A white delivery van was parked behind the Glo-Room, though the only person they saw was a middle-aged Latin man in a stained white T-shirt. He was standing between the truck and the building, smoking.

Pike turned in his seat so he could see Rina.

“Darko owns this place?”

“One of his men own it, but, yes, it will belong to Michael. The other men run it, but Michael he get the money.”