I waved him off. “Okay, okay. What about work? I need some cash—a lot of cash—and I need it yesterday.”

Mo’Lock stood at the foot of the bed staring at me for a moment, as if he was deciding whether or not he should tell me anything that might get me excited. Then he took out a small spiral memo book, flipped it open, and began to read.

“We got a call this morning from—”

“We?”

“You got a call from a woman named Veronica Vanderbilt.”

“As in the ‘we-got-more-money-than-anyone-in-the-world’ Vanderbilts?”

“The one and only.” The ghoul went on. “She sounded very scared and would like you to come to the house as soon as possible.”

I was feeling better by the second. “What’s the skinny?”

“She has a teenage son who is acting very strange. Sleeps all day and stays out all night.”

I shrugged. “Sounds like a teenager to me.”

“This morning she said she found something in the boy’s closet that alarmed her. She didn’t want to call the police. She was too embarrassed, so she called you.”

“What was in the closet?” I rolled my eyes, pretending I didn’t see the answer coming up Main Street.

Together we said, “A coffin.”

I nodded. “What’d you say my . . . our rate was?”

Mo’Lock grinned. “A grand a day plus expenses.”

“Sounds good. Now help me out of this fucking bed.” I tipped the headless bunny into my mouth and emptied it, then got shakily to my feet. There was no time to waste. We had a new case.

Guns, Drugs, and Monsters

Guns, Drugs, and Monsters

Something was going on that last day of March, but I was too fucking out of it to realize. The city was getting on my ass. Everything about it—the people, the weather, even the monsters—was working over my nerves. I didn’t know it, but I was itching for change. I was about to get a big dose of it, but I didn’t know that either.

Twice, I noticed a black sedan outside my apartment. I figured it was the Feds looking in on me, as they would on occasion. But, this was post 9-11 and the Feds had better things to do with their time than put a tail on their favorite crackpot spook hunter.

In hindsight, I knew I was being followed. But that’s what hindsight’s all about, right? Trying not to look as retarded as you actually were by saying you knew something weird was going on?

The day started with my newspaper being stolen. In fact, all of the newspapers in my building had been taken. Then, while I was on the can spinning a three-coil monster of my own, the power went out. I had to finish my masterpiece, shower, and dress without light.