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'Boy, what's with you? Everything's a police problem these days.'
1 enforce bail-bond requirements. That's the extent of my authority.'
Well, we don't have to actually get him. We could just do some investigating. You know, like we could ride around in the neighborhood.
Maybe talk to a couple people. I bet we could find out who the devil guy is. You're the only one who knows what he looks like.'
Lucky me. 'To begin with, I don't know where the devil guy lives, so it would be hard to ride around in his neighborhood. And if that isn't enough, even if we found his neighborhood and went asking questions, no one would talk to me.'
'Yeah, but they'd talk to me. Everyone talks to me. I got a winning personality. And I look like I belong in a gang-infested neighborhood.' Lula scrounged in her big black leather purse, found her cell phone, and punched in a number.
'Hey,' she said when the connection was made. It's Lula, and I need some information.' Pause. Tour ass,' she said. I'm not doing that no more.' Another pause. `I'm not doing that either. And I'm especially not doing that last thing. That's disgusting. Are you gonna listen to me, or what?'
There were about three more minutes of conversation, and Lula dropped her phone back into her bag.
'Okay, I got some gang boundaries now. The Slayers are between
Third and Eighth Streets on Comstock. And Comstock's one block over from Stark,' Lula said. `I used to work part of that area. My corner was on Stark, but I got a lot of customers from the south side. It wasn't so bad back then. That was before the gangs moved in. I figure we just mosey on over there and take a look around.'
`I don't think that's a good idea.'
`How bad could it be? We're in a car. We're just driving through.
It's not like we're in Baghdad, or something. And anyway, the gangs aren't out during the day. They're like vampires. They only come out at night. So during the day the streets are real safe.'
That's not true.'
'Are you calling me a fibber?'
'Yeah.'
'Well, okay, maybe they aren't real safe. But they're safe enough in a car. What could happen to you in a car?'
Problem was, Lula and I were sort of the Abbott and Costello of law enforcement. Things happened to us all the time. Things that weren't normal.
'Give me a break,' Lula said. 'I don't want to go back and file. I'd rather ride through hell than file.'
'Okay,' I said on a sigh. 'We'll do a drive-through.' Abbott and
Costello weren't all that bright. They were always doing stupid things like this. And more to the point, I felt guilty about Eddie
Gazarra. I felt like he got shot because I'd acted impulsively. I felt like I owed him. Anyway, Lula was probably right. It was daytime.
It was probably reasonably safe. I could do a simple ride through the Slayers' neighborhood and maybe I'd get lucky. If I could find the Red Devil, the police might have a chance at getting the guy who shot Eddie.
I cut through the center of the city and turned up Stark Street.
Stark Street started out bad and got worse. The gang graffiti increased with each block. By the time we were at Third the buildings were solid slogans and signs. The sidewalks were spray-painted.
The street signs were spray-painted. First-floor windows were laced with iron security bars, and the bars and pawn shops were behind partially closed security gates.
I turned right at Third and drove one block to Comstock. Once off Stark there were fewer businesses and the streets narrowed.
Cars were parked on both sides of Comstock, reducing the road to barely two lanes. We passed a couple guys on a corner. They were young, dressed in baggy jeans and white T-shirts. Their arms and hands were tattooed. Their expressions were sullen and watchful.
'Not a lot of people out,' Lula said. 'Except for the two sentries we just passed.'
'It's the middle of the day. People are working.'
