Kwon turned up the collar on his coat. “Who is this schmoe, anyway?”
“You’ve never heard of Randy Scoliari?”
Kwon looked at him. “Steve, I just cut stiffs open. I don’t much care about ‘em while they’re alive.”
“Scoliari runs with the Gambinelli boys. Big gun runners. Last we knew they were involved in trafficking weapons up from Alabama by way of Pennsylvania and up to Boston. They sell ‘em to school kids down near Chinatown for a few hundred apiece. They make damned good money on it, too.”
“And you think the Soul Eater’s gonna hit a gun runner? I thought you told me this demon guy was targeting serious scum. Scoliari doesn’t exactly sound like the most nefarious dude you could dig up.”
Curran nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. But I read a bit more into his jacket and found out that he was suspected in over thirty rape cases that never went to trial.”
“None of them?”
“Nope.”
“How’d the DA manage to blow thirty cases like that?”
“Wasn’t the DA. Someone got to the witnesses and plaintiffs.”
“You think it was Gambinelli?”
“Coulda been. Regardless, Scoliari is a nasty guy. I think there’s good odds on him getting targeted by this guy we’re looking for.”
Kwon looked at him and Curran saw a smile creep out on to his face. “You won’t admit it yet, will you?”
“Admit what?”
“That this might be supernatural. You’ve never even said Soul Eater while I’m around. You afraid if you say it, it’ll become more real for you?”
Curran shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Still a disbeliever. Even after the green brains.” Kwon cracked a thermos. “You want some?”
“What’s in it?”
“Irish coffee.”
Curran frowned. “I’m working here, Kwon.”
“Well, I’m not driving. And the least I can do is get comfy if I have to sit in this crappy car on a rainy night like this. Cripes, it’s pissing down ice out there now.”
“Keep your eyes open.”
“For the Soul Eater. Jeez, go ahead and say it already.”
Curran shook his head. He could say it around Lauren, but not Kwon. Did he believe it less around Kwon? No. He just didn’t want to piss Lauren off. He sighed. “Just keep your eyes peeled.”
Kwon took a long sip from the thermos. “Problem with you is you got too much logic rattling upstairs in that thick head of yours. That kind of crap will get you into trouble, my friend.”
“Too much logic? How can that be bad?”
“Be bad because that damned FBI put it all there. Crap, Curran, how many times have you solved a case going on sheer instinct? You know as well as I do a lot of the time logic and reason got nothing to do with this. Sometimes…it’s just a feeling.”
“We aren’t talking about feelings though, Kwon.”
“Nope. We aren’t. We’re talking about the supernatural.”
Curran flipped the wipers on again. “Tough. That’s what it is. Tough to take all this in one gulp. I haven’t exactly been the spiritual type for most of my life. Not since…” He trailed off.
“Yeah, I know.” Kwon watched him. “You told me about it. Once.”
Curran eyed him. “When?”
“Over about twelve beers. I know about Joey.”
Curran peered out the windshield again. Sleet bounced off the hood of the car. Beyond, he could see the expensive brownstone on Beacon Hill. Scoliari kept a couple of places in Boston, but according to a friend of Curran’s on the Organized Crime Taskforce, Scoliari was holed up here right now. “You really believe this stuff?”
“Got no reason not to.”
“I thought most Koreans were Buddhist.”
Kwon grunted. “Tell you something about that, Curran. You go to any war-torn country and you’ll find a whole lotta people embracing just about any religion that promises to save them.”
“War torn?”
“So, it was a few years ago. I’m talking about what that kind of strife does to parents who then raise kids. My folks grew up Buddhist, embraced Christianity during the war and then urged us to follow whatever our heart told us was right.”
“So, you’re Christian?”
“Nah. I don’t go in much for organized religion. I’m more of a free-wheeling entity.” He leaned back and started humming.
“But you believe Lauren.”
Kwon looked at him. “What — I gotta be Christian to accept the notion of good versus evil? To believe that there are some totally nasty freaks living in this world? Crap, man, I see that kind of crap every damned day. Religion’s got nothing to do with it.”
“Yeah, so I guess I oughta feel the same, huh?”
“Not necessarily. But you at least ought to keep an open mind.”
Curran tapped the steering wheel. “I’m not much on faith, am I?”
“Not much, no.” Kwon shook his head. “Puzzles the hell out of me what Lauren even sees in your ungrateful ass.”
Curran looked at him. “What?”
Kwon belched. “What?”
“What’d you just say?”
“About Lauren?”
“Yeah.”
“Nothing.”
“It was something.”
“I said I can’t figure why she’s obviously interested in you.”
“You really think that?”
“’Course. I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”
“But she’s becoming a nun.”
“Yeah,” said Kwon. “She sure is.”
“That’s not good.”
“Depends on who you’re referring to it being good for. It’s good for God. He’s getting one helluva great lady in his service. Kinda sucks for you, though, huh?”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re a real poet with words, Kwon?”
“No. Don’t expect ‘em to either.”
“Good bet.”
“Don’t get off the subject, Steve. You’re just all confused about what to do with this lady, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.”
“Try definitely.” Kwon chuckled. “I tell ya, first time I laid eyes on you, I would’ve banked money betting you were el’ Mr. Suavo with the chicks. Turns out you’re just a big shy guy, huh?”
“I haven’t got any time for women.” He frowned, but Kwon was right. He did have a problem believing he could talk to women.
“When was the last time you got laid?”
Curran peered through the windshield. “That’s not really any of your business.”
“Crap — that long?” Kwon laughed some more. “Brother, no wonder you’re having such a hard time swallowing this Devil story. You haven’t had your mind properly expanded.”
“I need sex to believe in the Devil?”
