“Did you burn my car so you could give me a ride back?”
“No. But I saw who did it.”
“Who?”
“Audsley Isshii.”
Some people seriously need to get a new hobby.
“I wonder why he didn’t wait till I was in the car before he lit it up.”
“Because I told him I’d be upset if he did that.”
“Thanks. Why?”
“You did a good job with Death.”
“You think?”
“Of course. People have started dying in droves. They estimate almost a hundred thousand since last night.”
“I haven’t watched the news since yesterday.”
“You ought to.”
“That’s what my boss says.”
“Speaking of bosses, have you had a chance to reconsider my job offer?”
“Honestly, no. It’s been an eventful few days.”
“I can match and beat any offer anyone else makes you.”
“Why do you want me so much?”
“I just told you. You handled the Death case so deftly.”
“And because Wormwood is so hot for me.”
“That too.”
I think about it as we drive.
“How’s Tamerlan Radescu doing?” I say.
Abbot glances at me.
“All right, I suppose. Why do you ask?”
“What I mean is, is Radescu on your payroll?”
“No. He came around offering his services, but I don’t have any use for a Dead Head. How did you know about that?”
“He was heading to your boat when I was leaving.”
“Ah, right. He and my father were close, but we’re not. He’s turned into a mean old bastard. I don’t need that around.”
I nod, wishing I could see his eyes so it would be easier to tell if he was lying.
My arm throbs.
“If you were right there, why did you let Isshii burn my car?”
“I wouldn’t have if you’d been one of my employees. It would have been my obligation to step in.”
We drive for a while longer.
“Do you have any aspirin?”
“In the glove compartment.”
I find the bottle and dry-swallow four pills.
“Give me twenty-four hours,” I say.
“That’s fair. Where should I drop you?”
“My boss’s place so I can tell her about the car. It’s in Silver Lake.”
“Let’s go.”
I spend the rest of the drive wondering who’s started killing people again.
ABBOT DROPS ME outside of Julie’s building and heads off to do important Augur stuff, like sipping drinks on his yacht.
I head upstairs. Julie must have the security cams on because Candy meets me at the top of the stairs.
“You look terrible. What are you doing out of bed?” she says.
“I’m fine. I just need to sit down.”
She pulls a chair over by Julie’s desk and I drop down into it.
Julie pushes her coffee my way. I drink some and nod thanks.
“She’s right, Stark. You don’t look good. What do you need that we couldn’t talk about on the phone?”
I take the keys to the Crown Vic out of my pocket and slide them across the desk.
“Here are your keys. You’ll probably be getting a notice from city impound. Maybe a junkyard.”
She takes the keys and drops them in a drawer.
“Where’s the car?”
“What’s left of it is out on La Cienega. I had to get a ride back with a friend.”
“Who?” says Candy.
“Thomas Abbot.”
That gets Julie’s attention. She writes something down on a yellow legal pad.
“I’m torn here, Stark. Despite all the time you didn’t listen to my orders and went off on your own, you did a lot of the heavy lifting when it came to solving this case. You handled some very dangerous people and helped reinstate Death to his rightful place. And your information helped to shut down the White Light Legion. Congratulations. You really put the agency on the map.”
Candy reaches over and squeezes my hand.
“Thanks. Just happy to be part of the team, boss.”
“With that in mind, I have a couple of announcements. First, Chihiro isn’t an intern anymore. I’m hiring her full-time.”
I look over at Candy. She’s practically beaming.
“That’s great news, babe. You deserve it.”
“Also, Stark, you’re fired.”
“What?” says Candy. “Why?”
“For all the reasons I listed before. You never listen to anybody. You lost me a perfectly good car. You lied about where Vincent’s heart was and you interfered with a Vigil raid. Plus, I’m sure there are a dozen other things I don’t know about.”
“At least a dozen,” I say. “Two things, though. First, what did you think was going to happen when you saddled me with a cop car? Second, don’t take any of this out on Allegra. If you give her a chance, she’ll be a great tenant.”
“It’s all right,” says Candy.
“Yes, we talked the other day while you were out,” says Julie. “She’s moving in at the end of the month.”
I get up and take out a Malediction.
“By the way, I got your eminent domain called off.”
“How?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
I walk to the stairs, turn back to her.
“There’s just one more thing.”
“What?” says Julie.
“Vincent is dead.”
“Then who’s Death?”
“I have no idea. See you around.”
WE SPEND THE night at the Beat Hotel and move back into Max Overdrive the next morning. I’m still walking wounded for a couple more days, so we schedule the reopening and Candy’s new-job party for the weekend.
Carlos gets there first and sets up a sound system. I thought he was just bringing a boom box with some Martin Denny and Les Baxter. Candy is thrilled. I’m happy she’s happy, but plan to spend a fair amount of time outside smoking.
A little after six, Allegra and Vidocq are the next to arrive. They have Brigitte with them.
“Let me see your arm,” says Allegra.
I flex a few times as she pokes, prods, and does generally uncomfortable doctor stuff to me. After a few minutes she seems satisfied.
“You’re almost back to your old self. I’m just concerned about you healing so slowly. Have you taken any drugs? Eaten anything different? Changed any habits?”
I think about the chicken and whiskey with Wormwood, but that can’t be it. I was already fucked up when I got there.
“The week is up. I can’t sidestep anymore. Maybe that’s it?”
“I’m glad it’s gone,” says Candy.
She yanks a hair out of my scalp, shows it to Allegra. It’s gray. She looks at me.
“Piss Alley always charges you more than you think it will. I think sidestepping was eating my life force or something. Anyway, it’s over now.”
“Good thing too,” says Allegra.
“I just missed shadow walking so much. I guess it’s really gone for good.”
“You’re stuck here with us groundlings.”
“Sounds like it.”
“You realize what this means?” says Candy. “We’re going to have to get a car. You can’t steal them forever and I have a respectable job these days.”
“You stick to the respectable stuff. As long as I have the black blade, I can get any car I want. Besides, how are we going to register a car? We don’t exist.”
“Maybe the Augur can help?”
“Why would the Aug
ur help you?” says Vidocq.
“You didn’t tell them?” Candy says.
“I was going to do it tonight.”
“Tell us what?” says Brigitte.
“Stark is respectable too, whether he likes it or not,” says Candy. “He’s going to work for Thomas Abbot.”
“It’s not like I’m going to be shining his shoes. I’ll just be on the Sub Rosa advisory council.”
“Congratulations,” says Vidocq.
He and Allegra hug me. Brigitte does too, but laughs while she does it.
“Oh, Jimmy, don’t become too housebroken.”
“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” Candy says. “He used my computer to find Audsley Isshii’s license plate and drove his car off a pier.”
“He’s insured, so fuck him.”
A few of our regular customers come by. Courtney, the Lyph, and her boyfriend. Cindil and Fairuza arrive together. Turns out that Cindil is apprenticing to Allegra at the clinic. Manimal Mike, the Tick Tock Man, pulls me aside and slips me something. I thank him and put it in my pocket.
I watch Candy talking excitedly with Fairuza about getting their band back together. Technically it will be a new band. Candy is gone, so it will be Chihiro on guitar. She pulls Cindil over.
“Can you play bass?” she says.
“No. I used to play clarinet in the school band.”
“Perfect. We only know three chords. You’re our new bass player.”
“Cool,” says Cindil.
I go outside with a cigarette and an Aqua Regia.
Guess this is how things are going to be for a while. Me stuck in the dirt not shadow walking and Candy pretending to be someone else. We can handle it. Other people deal with worse, right? And as long as Wormwood doesn’t get directly in my face, I can handle that too. Besides, maybe me and the Augur together can do something about them. I know I’m lying to myself, of course. Things like Wormwood don’t go away. With their wealth and power they’re dug too deep into L.A.’s hide. Maybe going respectable is my one way of beating them. If you can’t murder them your only option might be to bore them to death. Maybe I’ll get a car after all. A used brown Volvo. Let them try to figure that one out.
Samael comes in around seven. He has a flunky with him, carrying a chilled bottle of champagne in a silver ice bucket. The flunky leaves it on the front counter and excuses himself. I don’t bother looking at the bottle’s label. I won’t recognize the name and Samael will probably tell me how he snatched it from the pope’s private reserve.
He pours us each a glass and we head outside, where it’s quieter.
“You look a lot better than the last time we saw each other.”
“Yeah. I’m about back together.”
“The tailor was able to save my suit, so all you owe me is the cleaning bill.”
“Good. Send it to me.”
“It might be a bit more than you’re expecting.”
“I’d be disappointed if it wasn’t.”
I try the champagne. It’s not my favorite poison, but this stuff is better than most I’ve had.
“You heard?” I say. “People are dying again.”
“Of course.”
“You know who’s responsible?”
“Sadly, yes.”
“It’s you, isn’t it?”
He nods, stares into his drink.
“Father appointed me a few days ago. He says I should consider it a great honor to be the Angel of Death. I don’t know. I’m not used to being in the same guise, doing the same thing day after day.”
“Wait. If you’re Death, how can you be here? Shouldn’t you be off collecting souls?”
“I am. Death, like Santa Claus, can be many places at once. Me, I’m here with you. I’m also in Detroit, Nairobi, Vienna, Buenos Aires. Everywhere.”
“Doesn’t that get a little confusing?”
“It takes some getting used to, yes. I was constantly dizzy for the first couple of days. But it’s getting better.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll do a bang-up job.”
“What about you? You’re almost as acquainted with Death as I am. Would you like the job? It’s a great honor. You’re loved and feared around the world.”
“Thanks. I’ll pass. Besides, I already have a new job.”
“How about one of your friends? The Frenchman seems like a smart fellow. How do you think he would do?”
“No. No one I know wants the job. We’re all irresponsible and we all drink too much.”
“I wish I could still drink too much.”
“Since you’ve got the inside story, let me ask you something. One of my friends was stupid enough to get a wild-blue-yonder contract. What’s going to happen to her now?”
“May I have one of your cigarettes?” he says.
I hand him a Malediction and light it for him. He blows out a long, satisfied stream of smoke.
“What about Brigitte?” I say.
“Don’t worry about lovely Ms. Bardo. When the two previous Deaths died, all blue-yonder contracts became null and void. She’s like the rest of you now. Someday she’ll see me again and we’ll take a final walk together.”
“What about Tykho? Is she on the menu?”
“Tykho. Yes. She is a special case, isn’t she? Maybe I should pay her a visit while I’m here. Let her know there’s a new sheriff in town.”
“Take me along if you do.”
He takes another puff of the cigarette.
“No. I won’t be seeing her on this trip. But she’s on my naughty list.”
He looks over my shoulder into the store.
“What’s that music? It’s lovely.”
“It’s Martin Denny. Carlos can tell you more than you ever wanted to know about him. I’ll introduce you.”
“Please do.”
“But don’t tell him you’re an angel, especially not the Angel of Death. I don’t have that many friends. I need to keep them all.”
“Of course.”
I go inside. Candy has her red Danelectro guitar out and is showing it to Cindil. They’re plotting how to get her a bass cheap.
Candy spots me across the room and I signal for her to come over. She hands the guitar to Fairuza and heads over my way.
“Cool party, huh?” she says.
“The coolest. I have something for you.”
“Yeah? Gimme. I’m drunk and going to get drunker, so show me now while I can see straight.”
I take out a dirty handkerchief and hand it to her.
She gives me a funny, what-the-fuck look.
“This is a heavy hanky.”
“Open it.”
She smiles the moment she sees the brass knuckles with hearts on the tip of each finger loop. Slips them on and play-punches me in the jaw. Then kisses me on the spot where she clocked me.
“Thank you! Where did you get them?”
“Manimal Mike did them. He melted down the Nazi knuckles and made these. I figured it was good revenge on the fuckers.”
“What every fashionable lady needs,” she says. “I love them.”
“Good. That’s what they’re for.”
“Come on. Let’s show them around.”
She pulls me with her and starts pretend cold-cocking everybody in the room. I really should have given them to her when we were alone. She’s going to be doing this all night.
When she tries it on Samael, he catches her fist. They smile at each other. A couple of killers on the prowl. He lets her loose and looks over the new knuckles. Gives her an approving nod.
“They suit you.”
“Damn right they do,” she says, glancing around for more people to punch.
Samael looks at me.
“You once told me about a
place called the Museum of Death.”
“Yeah. It’s a little ways down on Hollywood Boulevard.”
“You fancy a wander through? I thought with my new job, I might as well do some homework while I’m in town.”
“Yes!” says Candy. “They’re still open. Let’s go right now.”
Samael cocks an eyebrow.
“My car is right outside.”
“Can I ask a few more people?”
“Whomever you like. It’s my treat.”
I grab Vidocq, Allegra, and Brigitte. Take them to the waiting limo and we head out, riding with Death to one of the few places he’s never been. A museum dedicated to him. It’s not how I expected to spend our first night back in the store, but that’s okay. What’s life without a few surprises along the way? It’s death, and we’re not having any of that tonight.
About the Author
New York Times bestselling author Richard Kadrey has published ten novels, including Sandman Slim, Kill the Dead, Aloha from Hell, Devil Said Bang, Kill City Blues, The Getaway God, Butcher Bird, and Metrophage, and more than fifty stories. He has been immortalized as an action figure and his novel Butcher Bird was nominated for the Prix Elbakin in France. The bestselling and acclaimed writer and photographer lives in San Francisco, California.
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Also by Richard Kadrey
Metrophage
Dead Set
Sandman Slim Novels
The Getaway God
Kill City Blues
Devil Said Bang
Aloha from Hell
Kill the Dead
Sandman Slim
Credits
Cover designed by Crush Creative (crushed.co.uk)
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
KILLING PRETTY. Copyright © 2015 by Richard Kadrey. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.