“The stage.”

“So you don’t know if Fisk came in with Rosie and Blazer.”

“I seen ’ em inside. Rosie was with Blazer then Blazer walks away and Rosie stays by the stage. Fisk’s like watching out for Blazer, then he comes back and says he’s gonna dance.”

“Watching out for Blazer how?”

“Standing close to the motherfucker, looking like, you know.” He narrowed his eyes, bobbed his head.

“Fisk was Blazer’s bodyguard?”

Shrug.

“Blazer needs a bodyguard?”

“Maybe he thinks so.”

“Do you know of any reason for him to need a bodyguard?”

“Ask him.”

“What I meant,” said Petra, “was does he engage in illegal activities.”

“Ask him.”

“Where can we find him?”

Bowland laughed. “Maybe in toon-town.” Yawning. “Gotta sleep.”

“Why are you so tired?” she said. “Never heard of a pawnshop with a night shift.”

“Gotta be there eight in the morning.”

“Till when?”

“One,” said Bowland.

“Part-time gig,” said Petra.

“Feels like full-time. Standing around looking at the crazy shit those Persians buy.”

She stood. “Bass, was not wanting to look like a wimp the only reason you didn’t testify?”

“Yeah.”

“No other reason?”

“Like what?”

“No one paid you to stay away?”

“Someone paid me, you think I’d be standing around looking at the crazy shit those Persians buy?”

Flipping on his back, he rested his hands on a mountain of belly and stared at the ceiling.

By the time we made it to the door, he was pretending to snore.

Loud, theatrical. More volume than he was able to produce by speaking.

Outside, standing next to her Accord, Petra said, “Rosie and Blazer Pain. Maybe the gang squad will have them on the moniker list.”

I said, “Rosie’s a deejay, Robert Fisk thinks he’s a dancer, and Blazer has visions of celebrity. ‘Pain’ could be a stage name.”

“Or an S and M angle.”

“The club scene,” said Milo. “You know what goes with that. Maybe Jordan will end up as just another dope hit.”

Petra said, “Gyms, now clubs. Great. One place I don’t have to go is Rattlesnake. I checked and it closed down three months after Fisk assaulted Bowland. Most of those dives are fly-by-night. This is not going to be simple.”

I said, “There are a couple of places right on Cherokee, just off the boulevard. Walking distance to Jordan’s place.”

“Meaning it would’ve been easy for Jordan to walk over and sell or buy or whatever,” she said. “Problem is I know those places, El Bandito and Baila Baila. They’re reggaeton, a Latino crowd, white and black guys wouldn’t make it past the door.”

She checked her watch. “Got some time before the night crawlers are out, maybe Eric and I can have some dinner. What’s on your schedule, guys?”

“Nothing too complicated,” said Milo. “Gotta pick up a gun.”

“The maybe match to Lowball Armbruster,” she said. “I’m still trying to locate the slugs dug out of him. Coroner claims they have them, but all those years pass, you know how it goes.”

“No casings on record?”

“Nope, either someone picked up after themselves or it was a revolver.”

I said, “Patty’s gun was a semi-auto.”

“Would Patty be someone who’d pick up?”

I nodded.

“Well,” she said, “it’s probably nothing, tons of.22s floating around. Meanwhile, I search for Robert Fisk.”

She crossed her fingers.

Milo said, “We could all use some luck.”

At six fifteen we pulled up in front of Tanya’s duplex. Over an hour of daylight left but the outdoor spots were on and the drapes were drawn.

The peephole on her door was covered by a tiny door. Before I knocked, it cracked an inch. A pale green eye inspected me.

“One second.” A bolt turned, then another.

She wore a pink buttondown shirt and a khaki skirt and held a plate of cookies. Big Daliesque chocolate-chip inventions, the chocolate soft and runny.

“I just got these out of the oven.”

Milo took one, finished it in two bites. “I like your style.”

“How about some coffee?”

While she was gone, he helped himself to another cookie. “Playing grown-up makes her feel in charge. Only reason I’m eating this is to be supportive.”

“That was my assumption from the beginning.”

He walked around the living room, parted the drapes, looked down at the street, took in the space. “Roomy.”

For a small girl.

Letting the curtains fall, he headed for the coffee table and examined Patty’s graduation photo.

Tanya returned with a mug of coffee and a wooden box. “Here it is.”

Milo wiped his hands and took the box. The interior was black foam with a gun-shaped cutout that cradled a small, blued pistol. He removed the clip. Empty. Dropped it into a Baggie and sniffed the weapon. “Oiled. Anyone use it recently?”

“Mommy took care of everything she owned, but I haven’t seen it for years.”

He shut the box, tucked it under his shoulder, reached for another cookie.

Tanya said, “You’re really not trying to match it to a specific crime?”

Milo looked at me.

I said, “An unsolved murder came up in the files. Another drug addict, a man who’d known Lester Jordan. He was shot a few blocks from your apartment on Cherokee with a.22 back when you lived there. There’s absolutely no reason to think your mom had anything to do with it. What’s more likely is this man and Jordan were both involved in a dope war. But let’s find out for sure so we can put your mind at ease.”

“My mind at ease? This is just-my God, it’s so weird!”

Milo said, “I don’t have to check if you don’t want me to.”

“No,” she said. “Do it, I want to know. Please.”

“As long as we’re here, does the name Robert Fisk mean anything to you?”

“No. Who is he?”

“An unpleasant fellow whose palm print was found on Lester Jordan’s windowsill.”

“You got him?” she said.

“No, we’re looking for him. Identifying him should speed things up.”

“Robert Fisk,” she said. “Has he killed other people?”

“Not that we know about.”

“Is there a good chance you’ll find him?”

“We’ll definitely get him.”

She turned away.

Milo said, “This whole idea of your mother doing something terrible has to be pretty upsetting. I’m sure it’ll come down to nothing.”

She focused past him, stared at the fireplace tiles.

He said, “Tanya, coming forth in the first place was extremely courageous. But like I just said, if you don’t want to continue, no harm, no foul.”

“That wouldn’t make you upset?”

“Not in the least. Officially, I’m on vacation. Give me the word and I go for the Hawaiian shirts.”

Her smile was feeble.

“Lester Jordan’s murder will be investigated fully by Hollywood Division, but anything to do with your mother has been and will continue to be unofficial.”

Silence.

“Whatever you want, Tanya.”

“I don’t know what I-” She turned, faced us. “I’m so sorry, I thought I could handle anything that came up but now that someone-two people-have actually been killed…”

“That is a tough reality, but there’s no reason to connect it to your mother.”

Her eyes filled. He handed her a napkin, eyed the cookies.

She said, “But what if something did happen?”

“Everything I’ve heard about your mother tells me she was a terrific person. The chances of her doing anything that could be remotely considered criminal are pretty godda-they’re darn low.”

Tanya dabbed a tear, bounced the heels of her hands together, let her arms drop. “When she told me, I felt her reason was protecting me. I only wish I knew from what.”

“Quite possibly nothing, she was sick,” said Milo.

Silence.

“We’re here to protect you now.”

She hung her head.