Bates generally killed people who helped him. He hated them for making him feel weak. This man, serene and deadly, made him feel very weak.

Bates turned his back on him and went into a shop. He didn’t care what it sold; only that it had smoked glass windows, useful for discretion.

The convict crossed the street. Bates considered going back and stealing the black cruiser. But then he’d have to sell it, and that was too complicated a project for his violent mind.

The prey stopped by a subway stairwell signed Juno Loop to talk to a tall woman who was standing there. She wore a crewcut and heavy gold piercings in her ears, nose, right eyebrow and lower lip. Not a whore, then; or, anyway, not for men. Then he disappeared down the stairs.

She must have a gig to be standing around subways. What did his pal have to do with it? She might know where the guy was headed, or be Bates’ ticket to the underworld, or both.

Bates pushed past the people entering the shop and hurried outside.