“Touch them?” Hollowes asked, looking down at the ground. “Now why would I do something like that?”

“You know, to get some change, a buck or two for food.”

“I just took the cash, that’s all. Gotta eat, you know?”

“Did you take anything else?” Jennings asked. “It’s important that we know.”

“You see? Talk to the po-leece, get in trouble.”

“No trouble, Mr. Hollowes. We’re not gonna arrest you. It’s just that we have to know if you took a wallet, or anything like that. We’d need the identification to tell us who these people are.”

“No. Just the money. There was eight bucks in his wallet, twelve in hers. They were dead. They ain’t gonna miss it.”

“Did you move the bodies in any way?”

“No. I didn’t touch no dead bodies. Just took their money.”

Jennings nodded. “Thanks again for your help. We’ll be in touch.”

“They good people,” Hollowes said.

“Who are?” Moreno asked.

Hollowes indicated the bodies with the wave of a hand. “Them.”

“You know who they are?”

“Can’t remember their names. They help us get a place to stay on nights like this when the cold go way down to your bones.”

“You mean they did this for the homeless, like it was their job?” Moreno asked.

Hollowes nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Is there anyone who’d want to hurt them?” Jennings asked.

“None of us, that much I can tell you. They been good to us.”

Moreno nodded. “If there’s anything else you think of, please give us a call.”

Hollowes turned to walk away. “Them rich people think they can flash them fancy cars in our neighborhood…” he said as he walked off out of range of the streetlight’s glow and into the shadows of a nearby tree.

“I was wondering the same thing,” Jennings said to Moreno. “What the hell is a white guy doing driving a Mercedes in Del Morro Heights at eleven-thirty at night?”