Chapter 5The audio recording’s background is filled in with spoons clinking on porcelain, an espresso machine’s hiss. Constant chatter of other patrons in the little café.
The conversation taking place in the foreground, however, is about arson.
“How is it that you came to know about the g**g,” comes Rubio’s voice, smooth and professional and gently coaxing.
The man’s voice is rich and deep, proper radio-friendly, but his words are hesitant. “Well. You see, they always come around the wharf at the same time. But it’s not—it’s not a nightly thing. I only noticed there was a pattern after the first time I caught them at it.”
“It,” Rubio prompts.
“They burn things,” says the man. “It was, when I first saw them they were just standing around a car, right, and it was burning.” A pause, bew
