“Okay, so we’ve established that you and some of your friends used your Wonder Twins Vril powers to help out a Dead Head ritual.”
Crew Cut laughs.
“We haven’t established shit, motherfucker.”
“What was the ritual for?”
“Don’t know. Wasn’t there.”
“You and your friends have a real hard-on for death magic, don’t you?”
He shrugs.
“The warehouse shows?” he says. “Pays more than meth and it’s easier than whores. Dead people aren’t whining all the time about rough trade and who came where.”
“Did you know any dead people in particular?”
“Why should I? I told you. It’s business.”
I go behind him and pull Candy’s companion over into the light. Vincent has no idea what’s going on. He looks as blank as a person can be and remain upright. I shove him in front of Crew Cut.
“Do you remember this dead guy?”
When Crew Cut lays eyes on Vincent, I’m a contented man. The look on his face is like Christmas all over again. He kicks out with the foot I stabbed. I pull Vincent out of the way and slap Crew Cut’s injured foot. He curses and tries to get up, but Candy holds him in the chair.
“Keep that fuck away from me,” Crew Cut yells.
“So, you do know him.”
“No. Goddammit. I don’t. Just . . . fucking keep him back.”
“Is it because you’re afraid of Eric Townsend or because you’re afraid of what’s inside him?”
“Fuck you. I don’t know shit about shit.”
I get the SS dagger out of my coat and put it in Vincent’s hand.
“Cut him,” I say.
“What? I can’t do that,” says Vincent.
“He’s one of the assholes who ripped your heart out. He owes you.”
Vincent looks at the knife, at me, then shakes his head.
“I can’t.”
I grab the dagger out of his hand.
“If you won’t take his heart, I will.”
I slice the front of Crew Cut’s shirt. He pushes back on his heels, but Candy wraps her arms around him and holds him tight.
I hold the tip of the blade to his chest, just hard enough to draw a bead of blood. The way he looks at me, the dope thinks I might really do it.
“What are you doing?” he sa
ys.