She glanced at the guy in the bad suit and I followed her look just as she knew I would, and when I did she stepped close and threw an overhand with a black leather sap, trying for the side of my head. Sucker shot. I picked up her move and tried to twist out of the way, but she was good and fast and I caught most of the sap on my right cheek with a blossom of pain. The guy in the suit yelled, 'Hey!' and the black guy grunted, 'Shit!' like they were surprised, too. Rossi followed the sap with a hard knee, but it caught me in the thigh instead of the groin, and then the older guy was there, wedging himself between us, forcing her away and saying, 'Dammit, Rossi, you want another beef in your file? Is that what you want?'

I wobbled, but kept my feet and let the older guy move her back.

The black guy hustled up behind me and his hands went to my wrists, pulling my arms behind me. The three girls ran up onto their porch and watched from the door, one of them with her hand to her mouth. My right cheek felt like someone had popped a firecracker under the skin and my eyes were watering. I didn't want to double over, but I couldn't exactly stand up straight either. It's hard to look tough when you're thinking that maybe you'll vomit. Especially when you've been suckered with an eye-fake. Maybe Rossi was a master of misdirection after all.

Angela Rossi jabbed her finger at me, saying, 'This shitbird came to my home! What were you doing at my home, you creep?' She wasn't smiling, now. Her face was etched and drawn, and she looked as if she wanted to rip out my eyes.

The older guy pushed her hand down and shoved her further away. 'Dammit, Rossi. Step back.'

The black guy locked my right arm above the elbow, walked me to a white Cressida, and pushed me down across the trunk. The skin of the car was so hot from the sun it felt like a branding iron. I said, 'Are you guys really cops or is this America 's Funniest Home Videos!'

The black guy ignored me. He went through my pockets and down my pants, and then he said, 'He's clean, Tommy.'

Rossi stopped all the squirming and trying to get at me. The older guy came over and badged me, too. 'I'm Detective Tomsic, and you're being investigated for stalking a Los Angeles police officer. Do you understand that?'

The teenage girl with her hand to her mouth disappeared inside the house. The other two stayed on the porch, watching. A couple of faces appeared in the windows, and I said, 'Hey, look, Tomsic. I think they've got a video camera.'

Tomsic said, 'Good. Let'm watch.'

'Maybe they got the sap on tape. You think?' Saps are classified as dangerous weapons. They are illegal to carry, sort of like rocket launchers and samurai swords.

Rossi said, 'What were you doing at my home?' She was breathing hard, but she was well back on the sidewalk and she probably wasn't going to hit me again.

'ID and license are in my wallet. I'm a private investigator.' The black guy tossed my wallet to Tomsic.

Rossi said, 'We know who you are, shitbird. Tell me why you came to my house.'

'I was investigating a lead that you were living beyond your means.'

'Why?'

'It's what I do. Investigate.'

The third girl returned from her house to join her two friends, but Tomsic didn't seem overly concerned. He was going through the wallet like he had all the time in the world. 'He's our boy, all right. California PI license. Elvis Cole.' He looked at me. 'You've got a license to carry here. Where's the piece?'

'Under the seat.'

The black guy laughed. 'You left it under the seat?'

'I was talking to a woman in her sixties. Who would I shoot?'

The black guy said, 'I hear you.' He went to my Corvette without having to ask which car was mine. They'd probably followed me. Rossi's neighbor had probably copied my tag number and they'd run the plates and picked me up at my house or maybe even on the way to Terminal Island.

Rossi frowned at Louise Earle's place. 'You investigating the LeCedrick Earle thing?'

'Earle claims you planted the cash.'

'That's bullshit.'

I nodded. 'I had to check it out.'

She put her right hand on her right hip, just above the Browning. 'Who are you working for?'

'Jonathan Green. In the matter of Teddy Martin.'

Tomsic said, 'Well, fuck me.'

The black guy stood out of the Corvette, grinning. 'You on the Martin defense? Whadda they call it, the Big Green Defense Machine?' Like he wanted to laugh.

I looked back at Rossi. 'People are making accusations that may be relevant to the defense effort, and I'm checking them out. So far you look pretty good.'

She looked surprised. 'What accusations? Teddy Martin killed that woman.'

I made a little shrug. 'If you planted evidence once, the theory is that you'd plant it again. Some people called Green and told him that you've got a history of doing anything it takes to jump your career. Green hired me to see if there's anything to it.'

Angela Rossi squared herself and took a step toward me. Tomsic shook his head. 'Angie.'

Rossi took another step closer and the black guy came back to stand with Tomsic between us. Like the two of them were scared of what she might do. She said, 'Green's a shithog and so are you.'

Tomsic said, 'Take it easy, Angie.'

Rossi shoved at Tomsic. 'Hey, I don't have to take this shit! Assholes coming into my life and trying to put this on me!'

I said, 'No one's trying to put anything on you. I just want the facts. No one's looking to axe you.'

Rossi jabbed her finger at me, but spoke to Tomsic. 'This guy's in my life, Dan!'

Tomsic said, 'Chill out, will you? This stuff happens. I've been investigated nine thousand times.'

I said, 'Look, Rossi, it's like I said. I've been through most of it and you're looking good. This is a legal investigation, and if you check out clean I'll report that to Green and that'll be the end of it.'

Tomsic said, 'You hear that? Clean.' Like we were both on the same team, now, trying to keep her calm. Maybe Haig had been right about her being a nutcase. Tomsic was acting as if he was scared what might happen if she lost control of herself. He turned back to me. 'You understand why we dropped on you, right? Your nosing around her house.'

'No problem.' My cheek was throbbing and the skin around my eye was starting to stretch, but there was no problem. Sure.

A black and white LAPD radio car turned onto the block and came at us with its light bar flashing, probably responding to a call from the three girls. The radio car roared in to a sliding stop with a couple of uniforms unloading even before the car stopped rocking. An Asian guy in his mid-forties was driving with an Hispanic guy in his late-twenties along for the ride. Tomsic said, 'Fuckin' great. A cheering section.' He nodded toward the black guy, then the uniforms. 'Robert, chill out these guys, okay?'

Robert badged the uniforms and trotted over. The Asian guy had a couple of stripes on his sleeve and was built like he'd spent the last twenty years in the LAPD's weight room. His name tag read SAMURA. Robert met Samura first and spoke to him in low tones as they walked back to us. When Samura heard my name he looked at me. 'You're Cole?'

'Unh-hunh.'

He looked at Tomsic. 'This guy works with Joe Pike.'

Robert and Tomsic stared at me. So did Rossi. Robert said, 'No shit?'

I spread my hands. 'Somebody has to.'

Tomsic's face went red and he wasn't so friendly any more, like he and I were no longer on the same team. 'The Joe Pike!'

'How many you know?'

His jaw worked, and he said, 'The Joe Pike I know can kiss my goddamned ass.' When Joe left the PD it hadn't gone well.

I smiled at him. 'I'll give you his number. You can tell him yourself.'

A little tick started in Tomsic's left eye. 'Maybe we should march your butt in, after all. Dig around and see if you're in violation of your license.'