CHAPTER TENCrossing the bridge back to the East Bay, she couldn’t help thinking about that logo. Club San Remo. She’d seen it on Radio Red’s matchbook and on the ashtray, but she’d seen it elsewhere, and not paid attention. Where had that been? Where?
A Pacific fog had drifted in through the Marin hills as well as through the Golden Gate. The bay was half hidden by swirling wisps of cold, wet vapor. The sun was a small, pale disk glowing through heavy clouds. Marvia shivered, turned on the heater in the black-and-white, and set the windshield wipers to sweep.
Solomon San Remo had ordered roach clips made with his club’s logo on them. Blue Beetle stole a batch of them and gave them out when he sold dope.
That was it. The roach clip she’d taken away from Jamie and Hakeem. She’d been too a
