just guiding you down the street, like I would my grandmother.”
She let out an exasperated sigh. “Would you put your hand on Sergeant Early like this? Think about it. I can feel eyes on us.”
He quickly looked around. Turning back, he said, “Nobody’s watching us. The ell-tee’s busy and Brewer and Kling are flirting with a couple of girls.”
“Okay, I’m paranoid. But still …”
He raised his hands and stepped away from her. “Whatever you want, Nan.”
She moved toward the command post. “Let me check in and see what’s on the board.”
She and the lieutenant greeted each other. Vining said, “I understand that Scrappy Espinoza’s ticket got punched.”
“Shot execution-style through the back of the head apparently while he was tagging a wall.” Lieutenant Garner was a trim and youthful-looking forty-five. She wore her sandy hair in a short bob favored by most of the female officers because they didn’t want the hassle of tightly pinning up their hair so that bad guys couldn’t grab ahold of it.
She continued. “There’s a security guard posted at the construction site at night, but during questioning, he confessed that he was asleep in his car parked on the street behind the building. Didn’t hear anything until we rolled up. Homeless guy by the name of Kevin found the body and called it in. Patrol officers are canvassing the Old Town clubs and restaurants with mug shots of known Crooked Lane Crips.”
Kissick added, “The Lanes Crips were bound to respond to the Titus Clifford murder. Vario Pasadena Rifa might be good for it, too. They’ve been at war with NLK for years. But this isn’t anywhere near NLK territory. Why was Scrappy tagging here? Why was a thirty-something gangbanger tagging at all, making noise on the street? Guys Scrappy’s age usually aren’t even active anymore.”
Vining examined the board. “Cameron Lam from the Gangs Unit is on-scene.”
“I called him in,” Lieutenant Garner said. “Corporal Lam has the latest intel on what’s doing on the street. Scrappy just got out of prison after a drug-sale rap. Corporal Lam says the word is that he was trying to go straight.”
Vining looked toward the brightly lit shell of the building. It was circled by yellow barrier tape, marking the interior perimeter of the crime scene. “If Scrappy was out of the life, why was he shot while tagging a wall in Old Town? What did the tag say?”
“That’s another puzzle,” Kissick replied. “Says ‘China Dog, one-eight-seven.’”
The California Penal Code number for murder is 187.
“Death to China Dog,” Vining said. “Who’s China Dog?”
“No one knows,” the lieutenant said. “Corporal Lam asked his guys on the street and no one has a clue.”
“Is it a death threat against a Chinese gangbanger?” Vining looked at Kissick. “Chinese gangs have never gotten a foothold in Pasadena.”
He returned her grim gaze. “Looks like they might be moving in.”
SIX
A COUNTY CORONER SEDAN AND VEHICLES FROM PPD’S FORENSIC Services Unit were in the street in front of the gaping entrance to the partially demolished building. The façade, portico, and exterior walls of the original 1964 structure were intact while the guts were being scooped out. The cement portico was shaped like a large zigzag and was supported by austere square pillars. The walls were of polished cement with small, smooth pebbles pressed into them. The adult trees on the property were being preserved, encircled with wire mesh to protect them from the construction equipment.
Vining and Kissick walked through an open gate in the chain-link fence that surrounded the site. A sign on the fence announced: 60 LUXURY CONDOS AND STREET LEVEL RETAIL. DEVELOPED BY RED PEARL ENTERPRISES, LLC. There was an artist’s rendering of the finished building. It showed angular towers of steel and glass that incorporated the building’s original design elements and expanded on them in the greenest way possible.