Kill the Dead (Sandman Slim 2)

“Here come the boys,” says Koralin. “And they found the little slut. I wonder how many dicks she’s sucked tonight?”

I look at Lucifer, but he’s ignoring me and the remark.

Jan Geistwald is as dark as Koralin is light. He has a dark olive complexion and a deeply lined face like someone who’s spent too much time in the desert squinting at the sun.

Ritchie has his arm around a woman’s shoulder and he’s smiling like he just won the lottery.

The woman is brunette and her dark pupils, within the bright whites of her eyes, look like bullet holes in the snow. She has the perfect bird-bone cheeks you see on French girls, but her non-plastic-surgery nose and full lips look more Italian or Greek.

Hollywood beauty can make your IQ drop, but there’s that other kind that’s like the end of the world. Armageddon gorgeosity. She walks in the room like the Angel of Death in a miniskirt and all you can think is, If I got shot in the head right now, I’d die smiling.

The brunette gives me a crooked smile. I was staring and she caught me. Outdrawn already.

“You found your way home,” says Koralin.

“She gave us a good chase, but we tracked her down,” says Jan. “Poor Simon was almost in tears.”

“That was sweat, not tears. I usually make other people hunt-and-gather for me these days,” says Simon.

The brunette holds out her hand to me.

“Hello. I’m Brigitte.”

“Stark. Nice to meet you.”

“And you.”

Ritchie wakes up.

“Sorry, darling.”

He takes her shoulders and points her at Lucifer like she’s artillery.

“This is Brigitte Bardo. Brigitte, this is Mr. Macheath. Light Bringer, his film, is the one you’re going to be in.”

“Nice to meet you, Mack the Knife. Did you bring your dagger?”

Lucifer nods toward me.

“I brought him. He carries the knife.”

“Only because I couldn’t fit a gun under this damned jacket.”

Brigitte and Koralin smile.

“I’m glad you’re here taking care of our special guest,” says Ritchie. He claps his arm around Lucifer’s shoulders.

“Did you hear? Spencer Church is gone,” says Jan.

“Missing?” asks Ritchie.

“No one knows.”

“Spencer Church is a drug addict, a gambler, and a pusher,” says Koralin. “He’s either sleeping in a ditch or buried in the desert. But this isn’t the time or place to be talking about these things. This is a party.”

Jan says, “Why don’t we make a circle around the room? I know there are a lot of people who’d like to pay their respects.”

Lucifer nods.