Kill the Dead (Sandman Slim 2)

“Yeah, she was very pretty.”

He gives me a just-between-us-guys half smile.

“What happened, man? She throw you out for doing her sister?”

Sometimes there’s nothing worse than the truth. It can be harder and sharper and hurt more than a knife. The truth can clear a room faster than tear gas. The problem with telling the truth is that someone then has something on you that they can use against you. The good part is that you don’t have to remember which lie you told who.

“I got dragged to Hell by demons from the dawn of time. While I was down there, I killed monsters and became a hit man for the devil’s friends. How have you been?”

The guy’s smile curdles. He takes a step back.

“Don’t let me catch you hanging around the halls anymore, okay? I’ll have to call the manager.”

“No problem, Brenda. You have an extra cigarette?”

“My name’s Phil.”

“You have an extra cigarette, Chet?”

He walks away and gets a good twenty feet before he mumbles “Fuck you,” sure I can’t hear him.

I knock on Vidocq’s door to let him know I’m there and go inside.

“Hi,” says Allegra from behind the big cutting table where she and Vidocq prepare their potions. Vidocq is in the kitchen making coffee. He holds up the pot when he sees me.

“Good afternoon. You look like you’re still asleep.”

“I’m fine, just don’t wake my brain. I think it’s been drinking.”

Allegra walks over with a shit-eating grin on her face.

“No thank you, little girl. I don’t want to buy any of your cookies.”

Her smile doesn’t waver.

“Is it true? Is Lucifer really here in L.A.?”

I look at Vidocq.

“Word travels fast around these parts.”

He shrugs.

“We have no secrets.”

I turn back to Allegra.

“I spent the evening with a guy in a magic hotel room the size of Texas and decorated like the Vatican, if the Vatican was a whorehouse. I think there’s a pretty good chance it was Lucifer.”

“You knew him down in Hell, right? What’s he like?”

Vidocq brings me a cup of black coffee, holds up his cup in a little toast.

“Girls are obsessed with bad boys, man. How can we compete with the Prince of Darkness?” I ask.

He sits on the worn sofa and shrugs.

“We’ve already lost the battle. We accept defeat and move along, sadder but wiser.”