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Vidocq looks at me in wonder.
“A pornographic ghost. What does it mean?”
Pieces start falling into place.
“It means the angel who killed Chris Stein sent it. And I’ve seen that portal enough that I’m sure Dan and Juliette are helping them.”
“If that’s true, your friend Janet is in great danger.”
“That’s the problem. They love it.”
I call their number, but it sends me straight to voicemail. Perfect. They’re blocking me. At least I can leave a message. I tell them everything that’s happened and what I’ve figured out, but before I can get it all out a text from Janet comes through. It’s short and to the point:
LEAVE ME ALONE
My first instinct is to go through a shadow, grab Janet, and make them listen to me. But something Candy said comes back to me. “If you want to help people, kidnapping them is a bad start.”
I try to tell myself this is different. It’s not kidnaping. It’s just talking about something important. But I’d probably have to hold them down to do it, and if that’s not kidnapping—or worse—then I don’t know what it is.
I put the phone in my pocket and, after checking for spooks, take Vidocq back to his apartment.
When I get home to the flying saucer house I punch a few holes in the wall. I want to go up into the hills and kill Dan and Juliette, but I can’t do that. Not yet. Then Janet would be lost forever. Instead, I take some of Allegra’s PTSD
pills and turn off the lights. Flop down on the sofa and try to think.
Janet is in danger. Samael wants his angel. The Council wants their ghosts. Which crisis am I supposed to handle when they’re all part of the same damn shit storm?
I’m not good with defeat, especially when it feels like there’s a price on my head. But for the first time in a long time I have absolutely no idea what to do.
A few hours later, my phone buzzes. I grab it, hoping it’s Janet. But it’s a text from Abbot. The Stay Belows are starting to breach the wards around Little Cairo. His people have seen civilians, so they know the place is inhabited. Not that they care. The end of the text reads:
YOU HAVE 36 HOURS.
More good news.
I give Flicker a quick call and ask her to help Abbot’s people reinforce the quarantine around Little Cairo. She agrees, which maybe gives everyone an extra day to live.
I toss the phone on the coffee table and it buzzes one more time. When I check it, there’s an address in Benedict Canyon and a name: Lisa Thivierge.
I ride the Hog up winding roads into the hinterlands of Benedict Canyon to a Gothic-style mansion right out of a thirties Universal horror movie. Dr. Frankenstein’s summer home, or where a friendly neighbor chains up Lyle Talbot during the full moon. Even the name Lisa Thivierge is living under—Janet Lawton—is a gag: the name of the ingenue in the old Ed Wood movie Bride of the Monster. I like Thivierge already.
Thivierge first made her name in the late fifties as one of the few women directors in Hollywood and, along with Ida Lupino, one of the only women allowed to direct action movies. She was successful for years, but then she dropped out of the business and out of sight. No one seems to know why. Now here she is hiding in this monster-movie mansion. It’s like some kind of decades-long practical joke.
Still, there are two things about the house that aren’t funny. The first is the protective wards and charms around the windows and the front door. I move the doormat a few inches with my boot and find a line of red brick dust to keep out intruders.
The other peculiar thing about the house is the industrial air conditioner hidden behind a small stand of trees. The damn thing is the size of a pickup truck. Unless Thivierge plays a lot of hockey, the air conditioner makes no sense at all.
Before I ring the bell, I put on a glamour. Something blandly handsome, like a local TV weatherman. Thivierge is in her late eighties. There’s no way she’s going to let a stranger with my face into her secret tree fort. When I’m satisfied with my utterly forgettable face I ring the doorbell.
After a few seconds, an intercom crackles at me.
“Hello? What do you want?”
The voice is young and strong. Definitely not Thivierge’s.
“Ms. Lawton doesn’t know me, but I’d like to speak to her.”
“I’m Ms. Lawton’s personal assistant. If you don’t have an appointment, you need to go away before I call the police.”
