what the hell.”
The door to the house opened and Darius and a detective Curran vaguely recognized from Chestnut Hill’s burglary department walked onto the side porch. Darius saw Curran and smiled. Curran waved the detective over. The name came to him just as the detective reached him with his hand out already.
“What the hell’s going on here, Sam?”
“Boston got a reason to be involved in this?”
Curran grinned. “I was just passing by and saw you. Come on, no secrets, buddy. Full disclosure, remember?”
“Guy claims someone broke into his place this morning.”
“Anything stolen inside?”
“Nope. Big freaking waste of time.”
Curran looked at him. “You ready to shoot him yet?”
The detective smiled. “’Bout ten minutes ago. Guy’s a royal prick. And he’s wasting our goddamned time.”
“Why don’t you let me talk to him.”
“You know him?”
Curran shrugged. “Questioned him about a button related to a couple of homicide cases I’m working. Who knows? He might feel more comfortable talking to me.”
“I don’t know. This guy’s a real piece of work.”
“Old time’s sake,” said Curran. “You mind?”
“Nah. Go ahead and talk to him. You get anything out worthwhile, gimme a call, okay? I gotta get some grub. Been running on empty all damned day. Jewel heist at the Atrium Mall this morning and all.”
“Thanks, Sam.”
Curran walked over to the porch. Darius smiled as he came up.
“Do you like my new security system?”
Curran grinned. “Fairly effective.” Not the kind of thing he expected a demon to resort to, however.
“Only fairly? That’s not a very complimentary assessment of your co-workers.”
“They’re Chestnut Hill. Suburb cops.”
“With nothing better to do, they might just go at this with real zeal.”
“Doesn’t matter,” said Curran. “I might know some tricks for getting around them.”
“Would those tricks fall into the same category as picking locks?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Curran.
“I’m quite certain you do,” said Darius. “Did you have a nice time in my house today?”
“Like I just said, I have no idea what you mean.”
Darius smirked. “Come now, Curran, you don’t think I’m wired do you? Do you really believe with everything that you have apparently discovered about me — whether through guile or criminal intent — that I would resort to such plebian and utterly human measures as electronic surveillance?”
“Well, you’ve got cops watching your house. Besides, at this point, Darius, I don’t know what you’d resort to and what you wouldn’t.” Curran looked over his shoulder checking to see where the two uniforms were. They were each smoking and chatting quietly.
Curran turned his attention back to Darius. “But it seems to me you’d do almost anything to make sure your little dream comes true.”
“My dream?”
“Quest, whatever you want to call it,” said Curran. “Makes no damned difference to me.”
Darius looked beyond him and smiled. “I see you brought some friends with you tonight.”
“Help,” said Curran.
“Ah, the woman.” Darius’ eyes narrowed and he licked his lips. “I’d wondered what had become of her. And here she is.”
“You’d do well to leave her alone.”
Darius’ eyes flamed. “False bravado, detective. You are well out of your league here and deep down in your pathetic existence, you know it.”
“Maybe.” Curran shrugged. “So, let me ask you something then.”
“Certainly.”
“Let’s pretend you actually succeed in this mission of yours.”
“There’s nothing pretend about it, Curran. It will come to pass. I’ve worked too hard to see it fail. No one will be able to stop me anyway.”
“That remains to be seen,” said Curran.
Darius looked like he wanted to say something, but apparently thought better of it. “If you say so. Continue with your question.”
Curran nodded. “So you are able to bring back Satan. Then what?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, what exactly happens? I mean does he take over the world? Does he kill off all the innocents and leave only the truly wicked? What happens to you?”
“I will finally be able to leave this forsaken plane and return home.”
Curran tried to grin. “If things work out well, I’ll send you back to Hell myself.”
Darius started laughing. He kept laughing and then turned and walked back into the house.
Curran stood there and heard the deadbolt slide home with a heavy thunk.
Then he turned and walked back down the steps. “Good night, guys,” he said to the uniformed cops.
Back in the car, he sighed.
“So, what the hell is going on?” asked Kwon.
“Darius called the cops and told them someone broke into his pad earlier,” said Curran. “He’s got some uniforms standing guard over his place for the next day or so.”
“That makes getting to the jar a little difficult,” said Lauren.
“Yeah,” said Curran. “It sure does.” He leaned back into the seat and started the car. “We won’t be able to do anything sitting here.”
Kwon cleared his throat. “So, what’s our move?”
Curran looked at Lauren. “How soon do you think it will be before he kills again?”
“I have no way of knowing,” said Lauren.
“We might have to wait,” said Curran. “As much as I don’t want to.”
“For what,” said Kwon. “For those uniforms to get bored and go away?”
“They won’t go away until they're told to,” said Curran. “I mean, it’s a crap detail but they’re making over thirty bucks an hour just sitting there twiddling their thumbs. It’s easy money.”
Lauren sighed. “So we either wait for the police to leave the house unguarded again or we wait until he leaves the house?”
“He’s going to have to leave it sooner or later,” said Curran. “If he’s got another soul to eat, he’ll have to leave.”
“And what,” said Kwon, “we follow him?”
“Catch him in the act,” said Curran. “Or we wait until he goes, break into his place and then destroy the vat then.”
“Risky,” said Kwon. “The police dispatcher will probably pay more attention to any suspicious calls coming in from around here.”
“True,” said Curran. “But only if they’re paying attention. Continuity isn’t great in 911 operations.”
“Continuity?” asked Lauren.
“Yeah, when one shift comes on duty and the other leaves, there’s always a handover of what’s been going on during the last shift. That way the new operators know the general scene of the city, what the hot spots are, that kind of thing. If it’s poor, and with Boston, it generally is, then there’s a chance a call reporting suspicious activity will go into the low priority file.”
“A chance.”
Curran shrugged. “Nothing’s perfect.”
