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“No problem,” I say. “How’s Brigitte doing?”
She shakes her head.
“She’s stopped crying for now. I brought her to the clinic with me. She doesn’t know anything about medicine, but she can file and talk to the patients. I just want her a little distracted. And I want to be able to keep an eye on her.”
“She’s a killer. She’ll pull through.”
I can tell Allegra doesn’t like hearing me call Brigitte a killer.
“Is it true that Liam went to Hell when he died? Because he was excommunicated?”
“Those are the rules.”
“The rules stink sometimes.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“Is there anything else you need from me?”
“A key to the apartment.”
“The door is unlocked.”
“I know. I want to lock it. It will confuse him. Or at least piss him off. Either one’s okay.”
She digs in her shoulder bag for a key.
“Can you do it tonight?”
“I’ll have to wait until he goes out to set up, so it depends on him.”
“He goes to a bar in Westwood every night around eight.”
“Perfect. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know how it went. With luck, you’ll never see or hear from him again.”
She hands me a key.
“And no killing.”
“No killing.”
She smiles for the first time since getting to the store.
“I’ll pick up this stuff right now.”
“I’ll see you later, then. Bring Vidocq by for an early dinner. We have leftover steak and dim sum and cake from the Chateau. None of it’s more than twelve hours old.”
“You’re living the Hollywood dream.”
“It’s the last good free food we’re likely to see for a while.”
“I’ll get you your soap and tarps.”
“And glass. Lots of glass. Two pairs of work gloves. And wire cutters. I’ll need those too.”
She starts away when I remember something.
“One more thing. Tell Vidocq to bring me some of Traven’s favorite books.”
