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He held up a Zip-lock baggy containing a six-inch knife. The grip was wood, with a symmetrical double-edge on the blade.
Asher took it and examined it. “Fairbairn-Sykes?”
Rogan nodded. “SAS standard issue.”
Brady stepped forward. “You don’t think…”
“I do,” Rogan said.
“He can’t be that stupid,” Asher insisted.
“Not stupid,” Rogan replied. “Just cocky.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked. “Who is the SAS?”
“Special Air Service,” Asher explained. “British Army special forces. Their version of the SEALs, or Rangers.”
They all acted like that explained things. “I think I’m missing something,” I said.
“Jimmy,” Brady growled, growing angrier by the second. “Jimmy Cardannon was in the SAS. And he employs a lot of former SAS at Heimdall.”
Asher shook his head. “Let’s all slow down a moment. We don’t know…”
“Of course we know,” Rogan replied. “He showed up at our house and said he was going to put us out of business. Then there’s an attack on our client a few hours later. That’s not coincidence.”
“That knife was mass-produced,” Asher argued. The others were angry, but he was calm and cold. “It was issued to all countries in the Commonwealth, not just the British. There are probably hundreds of them for sale on Ebay.”
“I was there,” Rogan insisted. “Trust me. This guy wasn’t some crazy stalker fan who lives in his mother’s basement. I wasbarelyable to restrain him before his buddy showed up. He was a professional.”
“You really think Jimmy would attack an innocent woman? I know I only met him once, and he was an asshole, but…”
“Private security is a big industry in this town,” Brady said. “When there’s millions on the line, you bet he would do something like that to torpedo his competition.”
“All right,” Asher said. “What do we do now?”
“Analyze the knife.” Rogan handed the baggy to him. “Maybe there’s some distinguishing feature that can narrow down where it came from. Check for fingerprints, too, although I doubt they were careless enough to leave any.”
“And what do we do about Jimmy Fucken Cardannon?” Brady asked.
Rogan shook his head. “Nothing. A single knife isn’t enough evidence to confront him directly. We have to keep protecting Amirah and hope he doesn’t try again.”
Asher cocked his head. “How is she handling all of this?”
“She’s in good spirits. She’s glad we stopped the attacker. I’m not sure it feels real to her. But if he had gotten a shot off with that rifle…”
There was an uncomfortable silence as we all thought about that.
“I’ll dig deeper on the offending social media accounts,” Asher said. “Maybe I can trace their origin another way.”
“You want me to cover Amirah tonight?” Brady asked. “Cooper’s alone over there, right?”
“The LAPD is there, but they’ll leave once they get everyone’s statements.” Rogan looked at his watch. “You don’t mind covering things until morning?”
“Just give me ten minutes to sober up,” Brady said. “I’ll get changed.”
Rogan nodded. “Thanks. I’m going to get some sleep.” He wandered off to the bedroom, more steady on his feet now than he was before.
“It must have been bad,” Brady said quietly.
