He shrugs.
“Damned as I am, murder is still a hard thing for me to condone.”
“Like I said, you can’t help being a good guy.”
“Not yet.”
I wonder if Samael left any Maledictions downstairs.
“You don’t happen to have a cigarette on you, do you?”
Traven shakes his head.
“I don’t smoke.”
“I was hoping you’d started.”
I go back to the food and pick up the Aqua Regia. Set it down and pour myself some black coffee.
“Seeing your world. It’s frightening but exciting,” Traven says.
“Thanks, but the truth is I’d rather you cracked the books. I need information from someone I can trust. Is there a way into Blue Heaven? And what’s the Qomrama Om Ya? I know it’s a weapon and Aelita wants it. But that’s all. Maybe you can find out why.”
“If you think that’s how I can be of the most help.”
I go to the window and look out in the direction of the Hollywood sign. It’s going to take some time to get used to being home.
“Hey, Father. Is it me or did the sky turn green?”
Traven comes to the window.
“When did that happen?”
“I don’t know. What kind of fucked-up poison is this city spewing to turn the whole sky a different color?”
“I heard a strange story on the radio on the way over. They say that Catalina Island has disappeared. There was no earthquake, so it didn’t sink. It’s simply gone. And everyone on it. Almost four thousand souls are missing.”
Killer ghosts and missing islands. That sounds an awful lot like Aelita but where’s the percentage in killing off tourists? It’s not going to get her any closer to offing God. Unless He’s vacationing off the coast of L.A. under an assumed name. Does God have a secret yacht full of bathing beauties?
It’s a fun thought but I don’t think Mr. Muninn is the sunbathing type.
I ride the Hellion hog along the Pacific Coast Highway into the hills above Malibu. I figure that with a Gumby-colored sky and radio tall tales about Catalina as the new Atlantis, no one is going to pay attention to the bike. Manimal Mike has a garage. I’ll ask him if he can set me up with a set of plates. These cardboard-and-Sharpie ones are only convincing if you don’t actually look at them.
As I hit the crest of the hill, my phone rings. I park the bike and answer. It’s Candy.
“Holy hell. Where are those pictures from?”
“My new digs,” I say. “I decided that if I’m stuck being Lucifer, I should live like him.”
“Can I come over and see them?”
“Later. Right now I’m in Malibu seeing a guy who collects corpses like other people collect comics.”
“You know the most interesting people, Mr. Macheath. Call me when you get back. I want to come over and break some of your new stuff.”
“I think I can squeeze you in. Don’t eat before you come over. I have enough food to feed the Crusades.”
“Later, Bruce Wayne.”