Semyazah’s forehead creases and he shakes his head.
“Please don’t.”
“I don’t trust you but you didn’t join up with Mason, so you don’t want to die right now. Besides you, I can’t think of anyone else who actually cares about this place.”
“My lord, please.”
“Sorry, man. The thing is you’re like David Coverdale and Hell is like Deep Purple without a singer. You don’t know if you want the gig and the band isn’t sure they want you up front, but you need each other to tour. So shut up. Tune up. Learn ‘Smoke on the Water’ and smile pretty for the fans.”
I toss the Glock to Wild Bill.
“That’s for you.”
He turns the Glock over in his hands. Weighs in. Sights on Brimborion’s body. Tosses it back to me.
“I don’t trust a gun I can’t see where the bullets go in.”
He drops back onto the bed.
“But if you’re in a generous mood, I’d take one of these. Without the dead man, of course.”
“I’ll have someone send one to the bar.”
“And covers and such. These sheets are as soft as a widow’s bottom.”
“They’ll send the works.”
I tuck the Glock in the waistband behind my back. Semyazah has gone to the window to look over his temporary kingdom.
“When you were talking to Brimborion, I was impressed that you figured all that out.”
“Half of it was guessing. After the Lahash thing it was just figuring out who could pull off a coup on short notice. Marchosias is the only one smart and ballsy enough and with the right connections.”
He looks over his shoulder at Brimborion.
“I’ve never seen a man so cheerfully confess his crimes.”
“You let a man hold a gun to your head long enough and he’ll tell you all his secrets. Isn’t that right, Bill?”
“I wouldn’t know. Not having guns pressed against my head was among my utmost goals when I was among the living.”
“Can you people trace phone calls, General? Vetis crank-called me, but when I asked him about it, I could tell he didn’t know what I was talking about. I think he was possessed when he made the call. Where he called from could be a clue to who has the possession key.”
Semyazah nods.
“I’ll look into it.”
“And keep an eye on the Bamboo House of Dolls. And Bill.”
Bill throws down the pillow he’s been fluffing and stands up straight.
“I don’t need a goddamn demon looking over my shoulder.”
“I bet that’s what you said in Deadwood.”
He sits back down.
“I suppose you’re right but that’s an unkind way to put it.”