Devil Said Bang (Sandman Slim 4)

“How about you, Father? You just had a workout.”

Traven comes over, pours himself some mineral water, and goes to sit by the window.

“You ever hear of a guy named Teddy Osterberg?” I say.

Amanda brightens.

“Yes. Teddy is part of the family. That is, he’s part of your temple in Los Angeles. He’s not terribly observant but his family has honored you for three generations.”

“What about King Cairo? Any of you know him?”

Luke rolls over in his chair and kicks his feet, trying to get them flat on the ground.

“Cairo,” he says. Of course the little shit knows him. Rich kids like him love hanging around criminals. Slumming to the rich is like NASCAR to tobacco chewers.

“Write down his address and phone number.”

Luke gets his phone from inside his coat. Fumbles and drops the thing. He sits up and pats himself down for a pen and paper. I grab the phone from his hand and type KING CAIRO in the address book. A phone number and address come up. I copy them down on hotel stationery. Toss the phone into Luke’s lap. He’s coming around. Still obsidian black. Still silted up with sin.

“Amanda, does Teddy know who Mr. Macheath is?”

“I don’t believe so, Lucifer.”

“Good. I want you to tell Teddy that Mr. Macheath, a bigwig from an out-of-town temple, is coming to see him but don’t tell him anything more about me.”

“You should know that Teddy has always been a bit of a recluse and even more so since he was mugged a few months ago. He hardly sees anybody.”

“I promise not to touch his toys. Will you call him for me, Amanda?”

“Yes, Lucifer.”

She smiles. Finally something she can do without a roomful of minions.

“Swell. Okay. I think we’re done here for now.”

“Lucifer, what about Luke?” says Amanda.

“What about him? He’ll be fine.”

“What about his soul? After all he’s done in your name, it’s unfair that he should be tortured in Hell and not standing at your side.”

“What part of my CV gave you the idea that I’m fair?”

“Please,” pleads Amanda. She puts her hands over her mouth for daring to ask Lucifer a favor.

I nod at the attaché case Muttonchops brought in.

“Are those the guns?”

“Yes,” he says.

“You brought ammo too?”

“Of course.”

I go to the table and pour two glasses of Aqua Regia. Set one down on the table and give a small one to Luke. He sips and spits it out like I gave him a mouthful of hot coals. He’s not happy but he can stand and his pupils have expanded to something like normal size.

“Tell you what,” I say. “You leave the guns, see what you can find out about the Qomrama Om Ya, and fuck off out of here. I’ll see what I can do to keep Richie Rich here out of the meat grinder Downtown.”