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“Do you really believe the things people say about me? That I’ve been to Hell and back. That I was there again and I saw the dead members of Wormwood?”
“I told you that I do.”
I swirl the whiskey in my glass.
“Yeah. But there’s believing with your head and believing with your gut.”
“I’m not sure I know the difference, but I trust you and what you tell me.”
“Good. Then you need to know that I killed them all. Didn’t just kill them, but sent them somewhere worse than Hell. And I was able to do all that because of an angel. Her name was Hesediel. I want you to remember that name. It’s important. She’s the one who did the worst part of the work. Not me.”
He writes it down on a pad on the table.
“Hesediel,” he says. “It’s a pretty name. Would it be possible for me to thank her?”
“She’s dead.”
“You seem bothered by that.”
“I am.”
“But I thought you didn’t get along with angels.”
“I’m not big on kids either, but I saw one do a pretty good card trick at a party once. It was kind of like that.”
“The exception that proves the rule.”
“There you go.”
A flunky in a suit comes in with a loose-leaf binder. He gives it to Abbot and goes out.
Abbot drops it on the table.
“I had a feeling you might not be the computer type, so I printed out the list of suspected Wormwood members we put together.”
“All of them?”
“Council members, Sub Rosa families, and their civilian associates all of whom have left the country or disappeared since the deaths of Geoff Burgess and Charles Anpu.”
“That book’s for me, is it?”
He pushes it to me.
“You said you wanted to be part of the cleanup team. Unless you’ve changed your mind, it’s yours.”
I pick it up. It’s heavy. I flip through it. Names. Addresses. Work histories. Known associates. Where they were last seen. I weigh the binder in my hand.
“It’s like a goddamn phone book.”
He cocks an eyebrow.
“That’s why most of us prefer the electronic version.”
I drop it back on the table.
“Maybe it’s time for me to buy a laptop.”
“I know someone. I can get you a deal.”
