“Wait,” said Minerva. “He was just here. He told me about the curse.”
Harkhuf stopped. “That was before. I will deal with him at a time of my choosing. Now I have a much more important goal.”
“What kind?” said Minerva. “Kellar and I are at your complete disposal. We have a lot of connections and can help you with anything you need.”
The mummy didn’t answer. Froehlich came over and stood next to him.
“My master is looking for another mummy. His lady love, Shemetet.”
“Quiet, cur,” growled Harkhuf. “I will deal with you later.”
“Yay,” Froehlich said softly.
“Not like that.”
“Aw.”
Minerva said, “We can help you there, too. Coop, he works for the government. They deal in deep metaphysical secrets. If we give you Coop, I know that he can find your Shemetet.”
“And why would you offer me such a boon?” said Harkhuf.
Minerva lowered her head and put her hands together, going for a humble look. “A great man such as yourself with all your mystical power, all we ask for is a little consideration.”
“What sort of consideration?”
Kellar pushed past her. “I want my own talk show. And she wants to be famous again.”
Minerva waved him quiet. She smiled timidly at Harkhuf. “Yes, we request those pitiful things from Your Eminence, but if we can give you Coop, there is one more trifle we would ask for.”
Kellar looked at her, confused.
“I grow weary of your begging, woman. What is it you seek?”
“Just a book. The Mysteries of the Dead. Mysteriis Ex Mortuis.”
Kellar put a hand to his mouth. “Minerva! Are you crazy? What do you want with that?”
She looked at him hard, her eyes gleaming. “I got a taste for real magic tonight. Think about it. If show biz doesn’t work out, with the book we can become the darkest, most powerful wizards on the coast. If that doesn’t get us money, groupies, and respect, nothing will.”
“But, where is it?” said Kellar.
“It’s in L.A., I know that much. And just like with Mrs. Tut, Coop should be able to track it down.”
“And if he can’t?”
She turned to Harkhuf. “With this glorious presence working with us, he sure as hell will.”
Kellar looked from Minerva to Harkhuf. “Fuck it,” he said. “I’m in.”
The mummy raised a hand. “This Coop, he can provide this book, too?”
“Oh yes,” said Minerva.
“And my Shemetet?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then I agree to your terms.”
Froehlich applauded quietly. “I should have brought party hats.”
“Thank you for your generosity, O great one,” Minerva said.
Harkhuf shambled forward until he was within a few inches of her face. “But hear me. If you have wasted even a second of my time or have deceived me, your punishment will be swift and awful.”
“Promises, promises,” muttered Froehlich.
“Hush, thrall,” said Harkhuf. “Now, witch, how will you deliver Coop to me?”
She took Kellar’s arm and pulled him to her side. “We have a plan. Since your disappearance, you’ve become quite a celebrity. Everybody wants you, including Coop’s people.”
“Are you absolutely sure about this?” whispered Kellar.
“With what Coop does for a living,” she whispered back, “his people are just waiting to get their hands on this magnificent creature.”
“I hope you’re right,” said Kellar in a nervous, singsong voice.
“My patience grows thin,” said Harkhuf. “How will you deliver Coop to me?”
“We don’t. We deliver you to Coop.”
Froehlich cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but is that chicken vindaloo I smell?”
“Yes,” said Kellar.
Froehlich turned to Harkhuf. “Do you mind, Master? I haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
The mummy waved an arm contemptuously. “Fill your dog face.”
Froehlich looked at Minerva and Kellar. “How about you? Do you mind?”
“It’s a little cold,” Kellar said.
“The microwave is right through there,” said Minerva.
“Thanks,” said Froehlich, patting his belly. “It’s hard to destroy the world on an empty stomach.”
“Destroy the what?” said Kellar.
Coop had to do some fast talking in order to borrow the truck again, but he finally got it. It was almost midnight when he hit the road for the Sheriff’s car lot. He was furious about how many hours he’d wasted with the Auditors, and he wasn’t all that choked up about the way Nelson was still playing games with him. Plus, his head hurt like someone had tried to drill holes in it.
When he pulled off the freeway, he could see that the lights were off in the dealership. This was fine by him. He didn’t need the Sheriff or Donna getting in his way or asking stupid questions. The elephant had seemed to like him well enough the previous night, so he was sure he could get it into the truck by himself. Then came the little matter of turning it back into a library, but he’d worry about that when his head was clearer.
There was a metal barrier across the driveway into the car lot. Coop parked the truck next to it with the blinkers on and went to get the elephant.
But it wasn’t there.
He looked around the front of the dealership and ran around back. He pressed his face against the garage door and found a room full of hot cars, but no elephant. There was some open scrubland behind the car lot, so he climbed through a break in the fence and looked around there. None of the grass was more than three feet tall, not really hide-and-seek country for elephants, but he was getting desperate. He ran back to the lot, sprinting up and down the rows of cars hoping to spot something that would point to where seven thousand pounds of walking meat might like to spend an evening.
Finally, out of breath and sweating like he’d run a marathon in scuba gear, Coop went back to the truck and got out his phone. He hit redial.
“Hello.”
“Donna. It’s Coop. What the fuck? I mean, what the fuck?”
“Coop? Slow down. You’re talking like a crazy man.”
“Did you take it? I thought we had a deal.”
“Did we take what?”
“The elephant,” shouted Coop. “It’s gone.”
“Oh,” she said. “Let me get the Sheriff for you. Don’t you go anywhere.”
“I’m not budging. By the way, I’m at the car lot. I have a truck, and I’m prepared to become entirely unreasonable.”
“Okay. I’m not going to tell him that last part,” said Donna. “You hang on.”
Coop ran through all the possibilities in his head. One, Sheriff Wayne Jr. was pissed about his coming by unannounced and dumping a shaved mammoth on his front steps. Two, something happened to the elephant and the Sheriff had it stashed somewhere. He wondered if he could even turn an injured elephant back into the library and, if he could, what shape the library would be in. Three, the idiot let it get loose and it was doing a Jack Kerouac, hitting the road and trying to thumb a ride to Kenya.
Or maybe something worse happened, Coop thought. Maybe he used the box wrong. Maybe the elephant kept shrinking right down to nothing. No elephant meant no library. It meant no payout for Sally or the Sheriff and Donna, and no book for him. There weren’t a lot of scenarios he could come up with where he didn’t end up skinless, dead, in jail, or all three.
“Coop. It’s me,” said a man’s voice.
“Sheriff, it’s Coop. Did Donna tell you that there’s a situation at your car lot?”
“She might have mentioned something about it. You’re sure it’s gone? Did you check around back?”
Coop rubbed the sore spot behind his ear. “Yes, I looked around back. I peeked in the drawing room and under the rosebushes. It’s fucking gone.”
“Okay. Calm
down, son. Let me ask you this: Are any of those assholes still hanging around?”
“I’m the only asshole down here. Which assholes are you talking about?”
“Those animal lib assholes. They were there all day and all evening, eyeing the beast. I wouldn’t put it past those thieving little shits to have made off with your pachyderm.”
Coop sat straight up, trying to picture the do-gooders from earlier. There had been, what, six of them? Four regular kids and two with more money than brains. A bunch like that could be just stupid enough to rent a truck with Daddy’s credit card and take the elephant. But where? What the hell would a bunch of lunkheads like them do with a full-grown elephant?
“If it was them, I’m screwed,” said Coop. “L.A. is full of groups like that. How am I going to track down one I saw for all of two minutes?”
“That’s why you were smart to come to Sheriff Wayne. He’s already solved your problem for you. I talked to some acquaintances in local law enforcement, hoping to get the little pricks evicted, and one of them came up with a name. The Animal Human Love Society. Tell me that doesn’t sound like a German porno. These kids are sick. They’re based out of, get this, Carrwood.”
“That’s something, but it’s still going to take time to track them down,” Coop said. “My skin is riding on this.”
“How would you like an address?” said Sheriff Wayne, sounding very satisfied with himself.
“You’re kidding me.”
“One of the little dummies parked his Land Rover where I could see the plate. My peace-officer friend ran it for me. I have it written down over here. Hold on . . . okay, got it. It’s registered to a Dylan Barker at 2206 Vieux Carré Lane in Carrwood.”
Coop scrambled around the cab of the truck until he found a pad and pen in the glove compartment.
“Thanks for the info. This is why you’re the Clint Eastwood of crooks, Sheriff.”
“Gary Cooper, actually, but Clint will do in a pinch,” said the Sheriff. “Now, when you find these little creeps, you remember our deal. Just because the elephant isn’t here now doesn’t mean you didn’t dump it in my lap. I’m still owed something for that.”
“Trust me. The moment I get hold of the monster, it’s going to be a payday for everyone.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear. And remember, if comes down to it and you need a little firepower, call me day or night. I didn’t shoot a film director a couple of days ago and I’m still sorry about it.”
“Will do. Thanks. I’ll be in touch.”
This is what happens when you do business with the mentally berserk, Coop thought. Doc Holliday wants to go to the O.K. Corral on Richie Rich and the Osmond family. Why can’t I do business with normal thieves who want to steal things and not have everybody know who did it? Of course, normal thieves don’t rush across town so they can stake out a trust-fund hit squad with their stolen elephant. The fact that he might be his own worst enemy had occurred to Coop before, but it had never come with actual names, times, dates, and an address. It was unsettling.
Oh, and someone drilled a hole in my head tonight. That happens to normal thieves, right?
The moment Coop put his phone back in his pocket, it rang. He pulled it out and saw Giselle’s ID.
“Hi. How are you?”
“Coop. Where have you been?” said Giselle. “You weren’t around when I got back. I’ve been worried.”
“I’m sorry I missed you last night. You don’t get to pull those sexy all-night jobs much. Was it fun?”
“Never mind about that. Where are you?”
“Sorry I didn’t call. I got a little tied up at work,” said Coop. “And I lost the elephant, but I’m hot on its trail now.”
“Did you say elephant?”
“Didn’t Sally tell you? We stole an elephant last night.”
“Why the hell did you do that?”
Coop rubbed his neck. “We were going to run away with the circus, but they already had an elephant.”
“Coop,” said Giselle, the concern in her voice replaced by annoyance.
“Call Sally. She’ll explain everything. I have a massive headache and I need to concentrate.”
“Okay, but you should know one more thing. Bayliss did some more research on your mummies. She thinks she found Shemetet.”
“That’s great. Where is she?” said Coop.
“Downstairs. They have her in thaumaturgic antiquities.”
Coop dropped back against the driver’s seat, visions of conspiracies dancing in his head. “Now I’m feeling just a little paranoid. Do you think they knew about their connection all along?”
“The DOPS knows everything,” said Giselle. “Woolrich had one mummy, so he’s hanging you out like a worm on a hook to get the other one.”
“Funny you should mention people who don’t like me. Someone drilled a hole in my head tonight.”
“What?” said Giselle.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s not very deep.”
“Coop, please come home.”
“I can’t. I have to find the elephant.”
“What elephant?” Giselle shouted. Coop had to move the phone away from his ear.
“Call Sally. I promise I’ll tell you the rest when I get home.”
McCloud practically clanked into Nelson’s office.
By the time Pandora’s chocolate bunny had finished with him, he’d lost his remaining arm, his eyes, his nose, one ear, his left foot, and his right leg. Nelson had spent an entire night and had to go through several boxes of purloined cyborg parts to put him back together again. In the end, he was quite proud of his work. True, McCloud set off metal detectors whenever he left the mail room, which slowed his work, and his artificial leg tended to buzz like a demented hornet when he bent down to pick up anything, but it was a small price to pay to keep a well-trained, and now perpetually hypnotized, assistant. Plus, it meant that he didn’t have to use any tiresome management voices. That was a relief.
Nelson was admiring a large brass coin when McCloud came in with a handful of stolen mail and memos.
“What’s that, boss? It looks pretty cool.”
Nelson held the coin up high because McCloud was still getting used to his new eyes and focusing could take a while. “It’s a good-luck charm. Seventeenth century, if I remember correctly. It’s called a Rogue’s Aegis.”
“Wow. That’s great.”
Nelson looked at him like one might regard a stunned trout in the bottom of a rowboat. “Would you like to know its function?”
“Boy, would I.”
“It’s an enchantment shield. It will ward off almost any curse or spell. But there’s a catch. It only works once. Back in the old days, men like us used to carry these things around by the pocketful.”
Still trying to focus, McCloud moved his head forward and back like a chicken pecking seeds off the ground. “Awesome. I guess that makes us a couple of rogues?”
“Rogue. Scoundrel. Black sheep. Rapscallion,” said Nelson. “That’s me, of course. You don’t have the brains for actual roguery. You’re a rogue temp at best.”
“Sounds like a promotion to me. Do I get a raise?”
“I already gave you yours, C-3PO.”
McCloud wiggled his metallic fingers. “Oops. I forgot. Thanks again for these.”
“You’re welcome. Now, do you have anything interesting for me?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t read much before and it’s a bit worse now,” said McCloud. “But I’ll get better.”
“I’m sure you will,” said Nelson, thumbing quickly through the correspondence.
“Are you expecting something?”
“I was hoping to see something about Coop’s demotion.” He gave McCloud a sunny smile. “A little bird told me that the Auditors had a chat with him yesterday. He should be headed our way anytime now.”
“I told you about that. Am I a little bird and a rogue temp? A rogue bird temp?”
“You’re a birdbrain a
nd that’s not a temp situation. It’s permanent.”
“Thanks for clearing it up,” said McCloud. “Anyway, they let him go.”
Nelson tossed the correspondence to the side of his desk, hoping he’d heard wrong. “Who let who go?”
“The Auditors. They let Coop go.”
Nelson grabbed the pile and went through it again. “Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure?”
“Yes. Everyone in security is talking about it. The Auditors never let anyone go before.”
“Did they say why they let him go?”
“No. But they’d started the session,” said McCloud warily. He couldn’t see much, but he could hear well enough and could tell that the boss wasn’t happy. “They’d even drilled a hole in his head.”
“A hole? An actual hole?”
“That’s what they said.”
Nelson allowed himself a grim smile. “That’s something at least. Too bad they didn’t hit an artery or some bit of higher-brain-function meat,” he said. But the more he thought about it the more he realized he was wrong. If Coop had truly flatlined, he might not be demotable. And if the Auditors had given him a lobotomy before he was inevitably transferred to the mail room, he wouldn’t have the brainpower to truly suffer like the rest of them. No, letting the bastard go was the best possible outcome of a bad situation.
“I guess you and I will be having another box party soon. We’re going to have to go through all of them again and see what else we can use to pin Coop to the wall.”
“What about the picture of Death? You said you were saving that for someone.”
Nelson tugged at his ear. Staring at McCloud’s aluminum one made his itch. “That could work, but then I’ll have used up the camera and the photo. Let’s keep it in mind, but see what else might work. And good for you for making a useful suggestion for once. You get another promotion.”
“Do I?” said Nelson. “Oh, boy.”
“You’re officially promoted from birdbrain to ferret brain. Congratulations. You’re a mammal.”
McCloud beamed. “Thanks, boss. There’s one thing, though.”
Nelson looked at him. “You’re going to ask what a mammal is.”
“Yes,” said McCloud sheepishly.