“Our meeting isn’t for another fifteen minutes, Carlton,” she said, as he sprinted for the elevator and pounded his index finger against the already lit button.

“We get in early, we get out early,” Lassiter said.

“If Mandy’s old boss can see us early,” O’Hara said. “And even if that’s the case, we’re here to get certain information. That’s going to take as long as it’s going to take.”

“You’ve got sixteen minutes,” Lassiter said as the elevator doors slid open. He stepped into the car and jabbed the DOOR CLOSE button, forcing his partner to leap in before the panels slid shut in front of her.

“What’s the hurry?” she said.

“It’s a little thing called money,” Lassiter said. “Maybe it doesn’t mean anything to you, but it certainly does to the department. And I don’t feel free just to fritter it away.”

“They’re paying us the same whether we talk to this guy for five minutes or five hours.”

“It’s not our salary I’m worried about,” Lassiter said. “It’s the parking in this building. Fifteen dollars for twenty minutes? If we’re going to arrest anyone in this pit of depravity, it should be the guy who runs the garages.”

“You could have badged the attendant,” O’Hara said.

“As I’ve mentioned about eight thousand times, we have no jurisdiction in San Francisco,” Lassiter said. “Which means we have no right to expect to be treated as if we did. Which would make free parking an illegal emolument.”

“Maybe we could get a validation.”

“And if there actually is a killer and it turns out to be someone at the company?” Lassiter said. “Tell me then how we’re not hideously compromised.”

O’Hara flirted briefly with the idea of telling him a lot more than that, but she decided to let it pass.