description to Bug and he’s running it through MindReader.”
Bug frowned. “Don’t get your hopes up, Joe. That description fits about forty million Hispanic males, but we’re cross-referencing with key words.”
“Sarducci knew that Santoro was part of the Seven Kings,” I said, “but he didn’t actually know what the Kings were beyond some rah-rah rhetoric. He said that Santoro talked about the Kings all the time. How they were going to reshape the world. How they were the personification of Chaos on earth—not his kind of phrasing, of course, so he was probably quoting Santoro. He said they pay well and in cash. Sarducci and his crew did several jobs for them, and Bug’s cross-referencing the names and dates.”
Dietrich asked, “Did he give you anything else? Like why he wanted to kill Marty Hanler?”
“They weren’t after Hanler,” I said. “They were after me. And, I think, Circe.”
Circe’s eyes flared. “What?”
I tapped a key to replay one of Sarducci’s comments. “The Seven Kings are going to rip your world apart, Ledger. You and the rest of the DMS. You, that psychopath Church, that cunt O’Tree, these ass clowns here—all of you are already dead and you just don’t know it yet.”
“Sorry for the vulgarity, Doc. His words, definitely not mine.”
Church leaned forward and looked hard at me. “Sarducci threatened Circe?”
“Yes.”
It’s weird, his expression did not really change, but somehow his blank face suddenly conveyed a degree of menace that I have seldom before experienced. The others in the room must have sensed it, too. Everyone turned to look at Church.
He sat back and brushed cookie crumbs from his sleeve.
“Interesting,” he said softly. “Please continue.”
His eyes were fixed on Circe, who colored and turned away.
“Sarducci was very forthcoming with threats.”
“Anyone else make his greatest-hits list?” asked Dietrich.
I ticked my chin toward Aunt Sallie. “Not by name, but he used a few vulgar gender-specific racial epithets. This bozo is not a fan of Affirmative Action or women in the workplace.”
Aunt Sallie smiled thinly. “Nice to be noticed here at the back of the bus.”
“I got nothing else useful from him. He’s a lowlife piece of crap and I hope we find a hole and drop him into it.”
“Count on it,” murmured Aunt Sallie. She wrote something on a slip of paper and slid it across to Church, who read it and gave her the tiniest of nods.
“By the end he was rerunning the same stuff. The DMS is going to fall; we don’t stand a chance; the Seven Kings will rule; we’re all going to die; rivers of blood will sweep us away. That sort of thing.”
“More rivers of blood,” Dietrich said. “The fuck is it with these guys and rivers of blood?”
“Maybe they really had their hearts set on the Fair Isle cluster fuck going south on us,” said Auntie. She gave me a look that seemed to say that with me at the helm she was surprised it didn’t.
I manfully restrained myself from throwing my coffee cup at her. “There was one other thing Sarducci said,” I continued. “It came out kind of sudden and it was clear that he didn’t want to say it. He went off on a tangential rant to try and hide it.”
“What was it?” asked Church.
“He said that Santoro had a worse hard-on for the DMS than the Kings had for the Inner C.”
“The Inner C?” Dietrich frowned. “Is that a gang name?”
“No,” said Church. “And that is very interesting, Captain. It ties into something my informant told me when he called yesterday. He said that the Kings ‘
“Wait!” said Circe suddenly. “I have something on that, too.” She gave everyone a quick recap of the Goddess posts she had been tracking for months. She scrolled through her data and then put a Twitter post on the screen. “One of her posts mentioned bones.”
“It was in the posts after vandals broke into a tomb in Egypt,” Circe said, and explained about the tomb of the lost
“Cool,” said Hu.
“Okay, bones and bones,” said Dietrich, “how does that relate to the ‘Inner C’?”
“Son of a bitch,” breathed Aunt Sallie. “The goddamn Bonesmen.”
Chapter Sixty-four
The Hangar
Floyd Bennett Field, Brooklyn
December 19, 8:41 P.M. EST
“Bonesmen?” asked Circe. “As in the Skull and Bones?”
Aunt Sallie gave her an approving nod. “Right, and the Inner C has to be the Inner Circle.”
“I thought they were a myth,” said Dietrich; then he answered his own comment, “Right, and we’re the DM- fricking-S, so they’re probably real.” He sighed and shook his head. “One of these days we’re going to find out that UFOs, Godzilla, and vampires are real, too. Sometimes I hate this job.”
Aunt Sallie shared a private smile with Church, and we were welcome to make anything we wanted out of that. It made me wonder if something that Dietrich said hit a nerve. With my luck it would be
“Have we had any dealings with the Inner Circle?” asked Rudy.
Aunt Sallie nodded. “Mr. Church and I have been looking into them since before the DMS was founded. We’ve been considering making them a ‘project,’ but they’re sly cocksuckers and gathering evidence on them is a lot like trying to punch through smoke.”
“We may have to take that look,” said Church quietly.
Circe said, “If we are to interpret this correctly, the Inner Circle are enemies of the Seven Kings.”
Church didn’t comment and he gave me a tiny shake of his head, so I kept my mouth shut about what he and I had discussed before the meeting.
“Looks that way,” Hu said, looking very pleased. “A clash of secret empires. This is
“This can’t end happily,” said Circe. “What are we into here? Is this a three-way fight, or are we getting caught in the cross fire?”
“Points for using combat slang,” I said.
“Bite me,” she muttered; then to the group she said, “Actually, a clash makes a lot of sense. It explains the tip-off information. And it makes sense that the Inner Circle would reach out to the DMS.”
“Does it?” Church murmured.
“Sure,” agreed Aunt Sallie, “to use us to do the dirty work instead of having to endanger any of their own assets.”
Dietrich nodded. “Smart.”
