Jack turned to Max. He didn’t have to tell her to keep the camera on Drabinsky. “Be back in ten,” he said.

Max was surprised. “Where you going?”

“I want to try and find out who they’ve got in the car back there.”

“You sure you don’t want me there with you?”

Jack shook his head. “I want Tom to know he’s got a lady in the lists.”

“Sorry?”

“Jousts. Knights. Helped them focus. You didn’t want to be unhorsed if a pretty eye was on you.”

“Ah. Hey, do I get hazard pay for this?”

Jack smiled. “You’re a newsperson covering news. Be grateful for the privilege.”

***

Jack got lucky. There was a rookie uniform watching the SFPD’s guest, as they called him. There’s a myth that rookies tend to follow regulations. What they follow is experience and authority. They don’t just give it up, though; most have to be wooed by guys who have been-there, seen-that.

Jack walked up, read the rookie’s name tag, showed his credentials.

“Sorry, Mr. Hatfield, but we’re not supposed to allow press near-”

“I’m not press, Officer Beckman, I’m a friend of Tom’s,” he said. Then he added pointedly, “Tom Drabinsky. The guy in the demon.”

“Yes, sir. I know who that is.”

Jack waved a hand toward the kid in the patrol car. “He give you any trouble when you took him into custody?”

“Nah. There were already a couple citizens keeping him in check.”

“You find the owner?”

Beckman started to speak, then hesitated.

“Don’t worry,” Jack said. “We’re off the record. I just want to know what’s going on.”

Beckman thought about it a moment then said, “Nothing on the owner.”

“Who’s this guy?” He indicated the kid in the car.

“Name’s Leon Thomas. His younger brother Jamal was the jacker. He told us this was just an initiation, no one was supposed to get hurt, and his brother was going to abandon the car after a joyride.”