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“It will take me a few days to work things out with Washington on the payment situation.”
“Take your time. It’s only the end of the world. Anyway, you have my number.”
“I sure do, pal.”
“Call me back before the Christmas sales start. I want a new flat-screen for the bedroom.”
“Are you sure you didn’t kill Aelita?”
“I wish I could say yes, but no, I didn’t.”
“Pity. I’d have respected you more if you’d had the wherewithal.”
“That reminds me. If I work with the Vigil, you’ll square me with LAPD, right?”
“If you’ll stop stealing so many goddamn cars.”
“Marshal Wells. I’ve never heard you take the Lord’s name in vain before. Shame on you.”
“You let me worry about me and the Lord.”
“Maybe you can get me a company car. Or maybe you can get the Hellion hog declared street legal.”
“The what?”
“Call me when you have an answer on the money. If things work out, maybe we’ll get to spend the holidays together.”
“Imagine my glee.”
“I’m going to cut this idiot loose now. That okay with you?”
“Do whatever you want with the scumbag.”
“Good night, Marshal.”
The line goes dead.
“Matthew,” I say. “I think you’re about fresh out of friends. If I were you, the first thing I’d think about is getting out of California. Sorry I took your wallet and all your money.”
“I’ll pay you back for this,” he says.
“Careful, son. I’m about to become a federal law enforcement officer. They send you to Guantánamo for threatening fine upstanding types like me.”
I nod to Candy and turn off the lamp. Drop the wire cutters on the tarp next to Matthew.
“Feel free to let yourself out,” I say. “And you’ll want to be quick about it. The cops will be at the pharmacy by now and I kind of left a trail of pills from there to here. See you in the funny papers, Matt.”
We leave and I pull the broken door shut.
Candy says, “You didn’t really leave a trail of pills to the apartment, did you? Allegra could get in trouble.”
“No, but Brainiac back there doesn’t know that. Anyway, even if he cuts himself out of the wire, I give him forty-eight hours before he’s back in county.”
The rain has slacked off a bit. Just a slow drizzle. Maybe global warming will wash L.A. away before the Angra get a chance to.
Candy says, “I’m sleeping with a G-man.”
“A rich G-man.”
