“Just another video dealer.” The short one fingered the large caliber revolver obviously sewn into his coat. The rain turned the neon sign outside into a light show through the window.

The big one grinned. “Porn without subtitles.” He had implants in his teeth, back-lit LEDs . They wore identical leather coats and the kind of shoes that resist stains. Stains like the body they were both standing in.

Hamilton hated chumps like these. They were a step above the mob, collecting protection money from dealers, here to punch the clock on another guy they failed to save.

Hamilton crouched beside the body. The small entrance wound reminded him of the triple homicide, but no sign of the huge guy who left those boot prints.

“Time of death?” said the big one.

The little one looked behind the counter. “Judging by the progress of flick when the bullet smashed up his rig, I’d say he was about three minutes, twenty seconds into his shift.”

“You seen this one?” said the big one.

“Shit, man. I seen them all.”