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When I get back to Allegra’s place, I pop the top of the Vicodin bottle, crush up a few tablets, and scatter the powder over Matthew. Put the rest of the bottle in his pocket, then take off my gloves and stick them in my pocket.
“It’s raining outside,” says Candy.
“Just like a good film noir, right, Matt?”
He looks up at me from the floor.
“What did you do?”
“I just broke into a pharmacy. Took some drugs and left your gun and wallet at the scene.”
“Fuck,” he says. “Fucking fuck you, motherfucker.”
“He’s kind of a poet,” Candy says.
“Kind of one but not really.”
Matthew shakes his head.
“This isn’t going to stick, you know. The guy who told me about you, he’ll fix it.”
“Who’s that?”
Matthew tries to roll onto his side, but it hurts too much.
“Take out my phone and call him. He wants to talk to you. Just hit the most recent call number.”
I put my foot on his cage and roll him onto his back. He groans. I get a phone from his coat pocket, open it, and hit the number that comes up.
It rings a couple of times and someone with a drawl says, “Hello?”
“Who is this?”
A pause.
“That you, Stark? How’s my favorite pixie?”>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.”
