I dial the bail bondsman again. The line clicks. “Yeah?” It sounds like a woman’s voice. “Is this McQueen and Sons?” “Is this the guy who calls over and over in the middle of the night and never does anything but breathe into my voice mail?” “That was probably me.” “I don’t recognize your number and caller ID says you’re not dialing from lockup. What do you want?” “I want to meet Johnny Thunders. Don’t say no. I didn’t remember your name at first, but I do now because it was on a matchbook I had in my pocket when I crawled out of Hell. We’re connected somehow. You’re going to get me an audience with Pope Johnny because if you don’t this whole city is going to die and I guarantee that you’re going to be among the first.” Someone else says something. McQueen and Sons puts her hand over the mouthpiece. More muffled talk. Then she’s back again. “Come to the office at nine-thirty. You know what to bring?” “I know what to bring.” “Good. Don’t cheap out on the jelly beans.”
I HIT ALLEGRA’S number and she picks up on the second ring. “Sorry. Did I wake you up?” “Hell no. With a friend like you, no one expects to sleep more than a few hours a night.” “Is Brigitte under yet?” “Yeah. Eugene is watching her. Making sure the potion took and she’s doing all right.” “Thanks.” “No problem. But you owe me a story about how you hooked up with Pussy Galore.” “Sure. Listen, I need to read someone’s meter. Do you have an animascope?” “A couple of different kinds. But I thought you were off chasing zombies. Why do you need the scope?” “I’m meeting someone new and I need to know if he’s dead or alive. If I have the scope, you don’t need to come along. It’ll be safer that way.” “Fuck that. You and Eugene are going to protect me to death. If you want the scope, I’m the one who’s going to work it. That’s the deal.” “Okay, but you have to tell Vidocq. And don’t leave out the part where I said you could stay home.” “When should I expect you?” “I’m supposed to meet the contact in Hollywood at nine-thirty this morning. I’ll come by a few minutes before that.” “I’ll be ready.” The Grand Central Market doesn’t open until nine, which is still a few hours away. I lie back on the bed, close my eyes, and sink back down into the angelic dark. It already feels like home. The place I should have been my whole life. If I’d seen and felt like this when I was a kid, I wouldn’t have grown into someone who let Mason play him for such a fool. I wouldn’t have lost a third of my life in Hell. I wouldn’t be living with a dead man in an attic and covered in scars. Normally, going over all the ways I’ve fucked up my life turns my brain to swamp gas and bleeds
