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ROB TRILLING’S EYES involuntarily darted between Terri Hernandez and José Silbas. He noticed her left hand ball into a fist. Trilling had to admit that he’d enjoy seeing Hernandez smack the smirk off Silbas’s face. He was also a little relieved when she started to speak in a reasonable tone.

“Help us now, and I’ll arm wrestle you before we leave.”

Silbas shrugged and said, “What do you need to know?”

“Any idea who put two .40-caliber slugs into your godson’s head?”

“None at all. I don’t understand any part of it. I used to work in that business.”

Hernandez gave him a hard stare and said, “The narcotics business?”

“Why else would you even be here talking to me? But I didn’t want Jimmy to get into it.”

“Why do you think he started in it, then?”

Silbas dropped his head. “The same reason we all start dealing. The money. It’s a different time now, though.”

“How so?”

Silbas gathered his thoughts. “Back before I did my time, it was just business. I worked for a guy named Richard Deason. He managed to keep a lid on things. There was none of this random violence.”

Hernandez said, “Just focused violence.”

Silbas shrugged again. “That’s the business.”

Trilling picked up on the name Deason. Just once, their informant in the gang he and Hernandez were surveilling had let slip the name of a contact. They’d called him “Little D.” He wasn’t a member of the gang, but he definitely wanted to meet with them. D for Deason?

Or was he just grasping for leads now?

Hernandez asked more questions. Silbas couldn’t provide any useful information. He’d been out of the business so long he didn’t even know who the players were anymore. But he’d clearly been fond of his godson and seemed like he was trying to help.

Silbas went on a little more of a rant about how good things were years ago. He ended by saying, “I guess cops change too. Back then I might’ve been shaken down for some money or gotten my ass kicked for no reason. I guess some things get better and some things get worse.”

Hernandez closed her notebook as a signal they were done.

Trilling started to stand but noticed Hernandez didn’t move. Then she said, “Do I still have to arm wrestle you?”

Silbas said, “You said you would.”

Hernandez didn’t hesitate to put her right elbow down on the table and hold up her hand. Silbas smiled. Trilling wondered if he intended to try to hurt her. He figured that wouldn’t work out for anyone.

Silbas planted his right elbow and grasped Hernandez’s hand around her thumb.

Hernandez said quickly, “Ready, go.” She slammed his hand against the flimsy tabletop. The sound echoed through the apartment. Silbas grunted and pulled his hand away, shaking it in the air like he had touched something hot.

He said, “That ain’t nice.”

Hernandez said, “Neither was choking your wife.”

“I already went to prison for that.”

“But what happened to her while you were in prison?”

Silbas didn’t reply.

Hernandez stood up from the table and marched out of the apartment without another word.