Don Winslow - California Fire And Life

She gets out of the car and walks uphill, up the hiking trail, where she can already see Tony Ky standing there doing the Snitch Hop.

The Snitch Hop is this very distinctive two-step — a little double bounce on one foot, then shift the weight and a double bounce on the other — hands in pockets, shoulders scrunched up, head rhythmically turning from side to side. Letty sees this performance of the Snitch Hop, she knows with some satisfaction that the kid is nervous as hell.

Good, Letty thinks. Serves him right. Maybe he'll get so freaked he'll give it up and get a real job. Yeah, right.

Tony is nervous. The kid is definitely not used to meeting with cops to give them information, even if it is about two friends who have dropped off the screen. And Tony has had a brutal week. First there's the bust in the chop shop — which Uncle Nguyen was not happy about. But Tony figures he's still going to cruise through it. Then the DA starts cracking on him about two other chop shops, trying to connect him to some sort of conspiracy, then the anti-gang guy is in his face mumbling something about RICO, then his probation officer says he don't have to wait for a conviction to violate, just him being in the presence of other felons…

Then, like things weren't shitty enough, Uncle Nguyen reaches out personally with the word that if he knows anything about the disappearance of imbecile Tranh and idiot Do, he had better get his mouth in gear immediately if not sooner, and when Uncle Nguyen hears that Tranh and Do were last seen doing errands for the Russians, the old bastard like freaks. And then tells him to do something totally whacked, which is like call this police bitch and tell her. And Tony is like, What? and Uncle Nguyen is like, Do what I tell you, haven't you caused me enough headaches already, I want this cop off my back, so the kid makes the call.

Which would be okay — weird but okay — except that the Russian dude shows up again and asks like, You been talking to the cops? And Tony is like, No, man, I don't talk to cops, and the Russian dude is like, Well you're going to, you're going to set up a meet, and Tony is like, What?

And the Russian dude is like, Your head: use it or lose it.

All of which is to say that, yes, the kid is a little jumpy standing out there on some dirt path in the country waiting for a cop.

Billy comes back out and says, "They're going to pay tomorrow morning, with me or without me."

"So which is it?" Jack asks.

"Gotta think about that," Billy says.

"That's fair."

"How 'bout you?"

"I'm gone."

"Jack." Billy says, "you're not going to find another claims job anywhere in the industry."

"I don't want one."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," Jack says. "Maybe remodeling."

Billy frowns. Fights the wind to light another cig and says, "Sleep on this, goddamn it. Take some sick days."

"Fuck it, Billy. These days, they're all sick days."

And walks out.

Muy disgusted.

In the lobby the receptionist juts her chin at the waiting bench and says, "Olivia Hathaway for you."

"Not now."

"She's here, Jack."

"I don't work here anymore," Jack says. "She's somebody else's headache now."

"Jack?"

She's standing right behind him now.

"Mrs. Hathaway."

"A moment of your time?"

"Not now, Mrs. Hathaway."

"Just one moment," she says.

She's holding a plate of cookies.

"I really don't have the time right now, Mrs. Hathaway."

Two minutes later Jack's sitting across a table from her in Room 117.

Jack starts, "Mrs. Hathaway, I don't have time for this today. I'm in a very bad mood. So, for the last time, I'm not paying for your spoons. Not now, not ever-"

"I didn't come about my spoons."

Say what?

"Then why-"

"I came because a lawyer came to see me," Olivia says. "A Mr. Gordon?"

"Paul Gordon?"

"Do you know him?"

"Sort of."

"Anyway," Olivia says, "he came to ask me to join in a suit against you. A class suit."

"A class action suit?"

"That's right," Olivia says. She takes out her knitting and goes to work. "He said that he had at least twenty other people that you've cheated that are going to join together and sue you for bad faith and punitive damages. He said that we could stand to share millions of dollars."

"Did he tell you who the others were?"

"I don't remember them all," Olivia says. "There was a Mr. Vale, a Mr. Boland, a Mrs. Vecch…"

"Veccharrios?"

"Yes," Olivia says. "And a Mr. Azmekian."

"A Mr. Azmekian?" Jack asks.

"Yes."

" Kazzy Azmekian?"

"No," she says. "I think it was Kazimir."

Jack sits there while she recites a litany of various claims Jack has turned down for the past seven years. It's like the old lady is reading off his freaking inventory.

And the only way, Jack thinks, that Paul Gordon could go trolling for these clients is that he's had access to all my files.

Jack hears Olivia saying, "So Mr. Gordon wants me to join in this suit against you. He even offered me shares in the Westview," Olivia says.

"In the what?"

"In the Westview Company, my dear. Very confidentially, of course."

What the hell?

"What did you tell him?" Jack asks.

Olivia looks up from her knitting.

"I told him to go fuck himself. Cookie?"

"Yes, ma'am, I'd like a cookie," Jack says.

Her blue eyes look at him very seriously.

"I know a scam when I see one," she says. "Sugar — your favorite."

"A great cookie."

"Now, about my spoons…"

"So?" Letty asks.

"So what?" Tony says.

Still doing the Snitch Hop.

Kid's dressed up in the official Vietnamese gangsta uniform — black Levi's, black high-tops. Black leather jacket, and it's what, 70 degrees out? Black leather jacket in August…

Letty doesn't feel like it. "You called me."

"Tranh and Do."

"No kidding."

Tony whispers, "They were doing a job for some Russians."

"Okay," Letty says. Like this is telling her something.

"No," Tony says, "they were doing a job for some Russians."

Which gets Letty's attention in a hurry.

"How did they get hooked up with the ROC?"

"Maybe we do some cars…" Tony says.

"Is that right?"

"Anyway," he says, like he's not here to engage in bigger issues, "Tranh and Do were running an errand for the Russians. These two guys came and said they needed some guys and a truck."

"For what?"

"Boost a truck, pick some stuff up at a house, take it somewhere, lose the truck."

"What stuff!" Letty asks. "What house? Take it where?"

Tony says, "They talk with my boys, they call later and leave an address."

"What address?"

"Thirty-seven Bluffside Drive."

Which rocks Letty.

The night Pamela is murdered, two missing Vietnamese gangbangers are taking "stuff" out of the house.

Tony says, "So they lift a truck. From Paladin Unpainted Furniture. Go over there that night, they don't come back. Now you know everything I know, so lighten up on me."

"What two guys?"

"I don't know," the kid whines. "Two new guys, not the usual guys."

"You got usual guys?"

"We got guys who bring cars," Tony says. "We got guys come for the money. These were not the guys."

"Would you recognize these guys if you saw pictures?"

Tony shakes his head. "No way, lady. No fucking way do I give up these guys. You don't have enough weight make me do that."

"Describe them."

"Tall skinny guy. Big fat guy. No style."

"Have you seen them since?"

Tony shakes his head.

Too fast, too hard, Letty thinks.

" Heard from them since?"

"No."

"Don't lie to me, you little shit."