Killing Pretty. Richard Kadrey

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СКАЧАТЬ All I want to do is eat and fuck and go to sleep.”

      “I have that on my business card.”

      “Find the menu. Dial quickly. I’m going to pass out here for a minute.”

      She curls up on the sofa and I toss a blanket over her.

      The menus are in a drawer by the sink. I call in the order and open the envelope. Crisp paper falls out onto the floor. Heavy, expensive stationery—­Sub Rosa–grade stuff. Sure enough, it’s from the Augur’s office. Looks like I’m invited to tea with the grand high lord and master of the whole California tribe. Thing is, I’m done with the Sub Rosa and don’t have any interest in who’s running the show now.

      I wad up the note and envelope and toss them in the trash.

      DEATH IS WATCHING another movie when we go down in the morning. Duck Soup starring the Marx Brothers. Kasabian comes over as quietly as he can.

      “He’s been at it all night. I’m fucking beat. It’s your turn to babysit.”

      “What have you been showing him?”

      “More musicals. Mary Poppins. My Fair Lady. Some Disney cartoons.”

      “Shiny happy ­people stuff.”

      “Like I said, I don’t want him getting ideas.”

      “Go to bed. We’ll take the morning shift.”

      Kasabian slinks back to his room, right next to the storage room where our guest sleeps.

      “Good night, Kasabian,” he says. “Thank you for sitting up with me.”

      “Sure. Glad to. Anytime.”

      He closes and locks his door.

      “Are you hungry?” says Candy.

      Death turns away from the movie long enough to look at her.

      “Yes, I am.”

      “I’ll bring down the leftovers.”

      I head back upstairs.

      Julie calls while I’m in the kitchen. I tell her Death is awake and she should come over if she wants Thai food.

      “For breakfast?”

      “It’s this or the last of Kasabian’s donuts, and those have been around since ‘Steamboat Willie.’ ”

      “I’ll pass on the food, but I’ll be right over.”

      I thumb off the phone, get the food out of the microwave, and head downstairs with some plates. Candy clears all the crap from the top of the rental counter and puts it underneath. I set down the cartons and Candy digs in.

      Death sticks his fork in each dish and sniffs. Touches the food to the tip of his tongue. I don’t think he’s gotten the hang of having human senses.

      I pick at a ­couple of things, wanting coffee and a smoke more than curry. Julie arrives about twenty minutes later with a large messenger bag over her shoulder. Death straightens up and puts out his hand when he sees her.

      “Hello. I’m Death,” he says.

      Julie gives her best professional smile and shakes his hand.

      “Yes. We met briefly at the bar where you found Stark. You look a lot better now than you did then.”

      “I feel a lot better. Stark and his friends have been taking good care of me.”

      He looks at Candy.

      “I’m still not sure what I should call you. You have two faces and apparently two names. Which do you prefer?”

      “Look at either face you want, but please, call me Chihiro.”

      “Then Chihiro it is.”

      “Thanks for recording the interview,” Julie says to Candy. “It was a good start.”

      “Glad to be part of the team, chief,” Candy says.

      Julie opens her bag, then looks at me.

      “You were interested in the knife. Did you find out anything about it?”

      I fill her in on what happened with Vidocq’s experiment and Marlowe’s reading.

      “Have you ever seen that happen before?”

      “Never.”

      “All right. We’ll set the knife aside for now and concentrate on other areas. At least we have a starting point with our visitor’s identity.”

      “We do?” says Candy.

      ­“People still aren’t dying. Religious groups are up in arms, some calling it the end of days. There have been runs on grocery stores and banks. Hell, the president gave an address about it last night, saying the government is conferring with our allies to make sure this isn’t a terrorist act. This has been all over the Web and TV since it started happening.”

      She frowns at me.

      “You don’t pay much attention to the news, do you?”

      “I make a point to avoid it.”

      “Start watching TV, at least. It’s part of your job to have a clue what’s going on in the world.”

      “I’ll take care of it,” says Candy.

      “At least one of you is a grown-­up.”

      I take out a Malediction.

      “I make a point to avoid that too.”

      I open the side door, blowing the smoke outside so Death doesn’t choke and I won’t look bad in front of the boss. This is worse than Hell. I can’t even kill anyone to get on her good side.

      “Where are your other clothes?” says Julie to Death. “The ones you woke up in.”

      “There. In the room where I was sleeping.”

      “I’ll show you,” I say, tossing the cigarette into the alley. Good-­bye, old friend.

      We go into the storage room and I flip on the light. Julie pushes past me, slipping nitrile gloves on over her hands.

      “Have either of you handled the clothes?” she says.

      “We both helped him undress,” says Candy.

      I step deeper into the room, out of Julie’s way.

      “And I searched his gear.”

      Julie hands us each a pair of gloves.

      “In СКАЧАТЬ