“What‘s with the monkey?” Diesel asked, his head in the refrigerator.
“I‘m babysitting.”
Diesel gathered up some cold cuts and sliced cheese and turned to me. “You don‘t strike me as especially maternal.”
“I have my moments.” Admittedly not very many, but probably they‘re just waiting for the right time to pop out.
Diesel found bread and made himself a sandwich. “He got a name?”
“Carl.”
Diesel flipped Carl a slice of bread and Carl caught it and ate it.
“Are you a monkey man?” I asked Diesel.
“I can take ‘em or leave ‘em.”
Carl shot Diesel the finger, and Diesel gave a bark of laughter. Diesel ate some sandwich and looked my way. “You two must get along great. You taught him that, right?”
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Visiting.”
“You never just visit.”
Diesel got a Bud Light from the fridge, chugged it, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I‘m looking for a guy who has been known to hang with your friend Munch.”
“Does this guy drive a black Ferrari and have long black hair?”
“Yes. Have you seen him?”
I shook my head. “No. I‘ve talked to Munch‘s neighbors, and apparently he was Munch‘s only visitor. Munch didn‘t have much of a social life.”
“What kind of leads do you have?” Diesel asked.
“The usual. Nothing. And you?”
“I tracked my man to Munch‘s house but missed him by minutes. I‘ve been trying to tag him for over a year. He can sense my approach, and he moves on before I get too close.”
“He‘s afraid of you.”
“No. He‘s enjoying the game.”
“His name?”
“Gerwulf Grimoire,” Diesel said.
“Wow, that‘s a really bad name.”
“This is a really bad, really powerful guy. Somehow he connected with Munch, and now they‘re palling around together with Munch‘s magnetometer.”
“Why was Whatshis name in Munch‘s house?” I asked Diesel.
“Gerwulf Grimoire, but he goes by Wulf. I suppose he went back to get something. Or maybe he was playing with me. The house was clean when I got there. I followed Wulf‘s breadcrumbs to Broad Street, and then they disappeared.”
“Breadcrumbs?”
“Cosmic debris. Hard to explain.”