“Who said that?”
“Mark Twain. Or Jim Morrison. Or Stalin. One of them.”
Lucifer turns to me.
“When did you start quoting Twain?”
“It was in a fortune cookie. I’ve been saving it up.”
Lucifer stops and looks at Ritchie.
“Simon, why don’t you let me show James around. We need to discuss some work details.”
“Yeah, we do.”
“Sure. Good seeing you. Stop by and say good-bye before you take off. I still want to pick your brain about life down in the hot country.”
“Before you go, let me ask both of you something. What exactly is my job right now? Am I here all day every day you’re shooting? How is this going to work?”
Ritchie shakes his head.
“We won’t need you all the time. Mr. Macheath won’t be on set every day. Unless he wants you, you don’t need to be here the whole time. I’m sure you noticed that we’ve brought in a planeload of Chinese nyu wu witches to work special security. Mean old bitches, but they know tricks and charms older than dirt. Stuff most of the local talent has never even heard of.”
“I’m well protected here,” says Lucifer. “Mostly, I want you anytime I’m in public and not at the hotel or the lot.”
“Maybe when you’re not here, you should stay at the hotel. I mean you’re pretty much royalty. People can come to you.”
“Considering the drama after the party, I have to show my face around. I don’t want people thinking I’m Howard Hughes.”
“Okay. Just be smart about when and where.”
Ritchie checks his watch and looks around with a sour expression.
“You two have fun. I need to find someone and see if these goddamn union guys can possibly unload my fucking trucks any slower.”
Lucifer heads for the soundstage and I follow him inside. The Heaven set is pretty skeletal, but it’s still impressive. The floor is fake marble inlaid with complex star patterns. There’s a gold vaulted ceiling encrusted with jewels and subtly shifting lights. In the middle of the fake room is a throne decorated with intricate celestial, animal, and plant shapes.
I ask, “So, is this what it looks like?”
“Not in the slightest. But for the purposes of the movie, it’s uncannily accurate.”
“You trust Ritchie and his imported Golden Girls with security?”
“Simon knows what he’s doing. He’s been protecting himself and his stars for a long time. And he knows that his soul is at stake.”
I follow him as we circle the interior of the stage.
“Did he ever have to protect anyone from Drifters?”
Lucifer raises his eyebrows.
“Zombies here?”
“Last night. Three of them came into the Bamboo House of Dolls. What’s worse is that one of them was Spencer Church, a guy I heard about at your party and had been asking about since. I’m going to go out on a limb and say that wasn’t a coincidence. That means that not only do we have Drifters, but someone is running them.”
“A situation like that right now could be very bad publicity. With something that extraordinary happening while I’m in town, I’ll end up being blamed for it.”
“Then hire me to go after them. Take what you’ve paid me so far, tack on a bonus, and I’ll find them and get rid of them for you.”