Coop stood up. “No. Not Phil. I will not work with him again.”

Nelson reached for his gun, but Salzman motioned for him to stop. He got out his phone and punched in a number. “Hello, Doris. Would you have the West twins bring in those dossiers for me? Thanks.”

They sat and waited. The demigod gibberish rolled by like supernatural chicken scratches. In a few minutes, two people came in, although calling them people was being more than a little charitable. One of the West twins was a dark-haired bearded man’s head on a kind of octopus’s body. The other twin had an octopus head on a human body. They each dropped another goddamned green folder on the table in front of Salzman. The analytical criminal part of Coop’s brain was kind of fascinated by the sideshow, but the rest of his brain wanted to claw his eyes out. Coop dropped back down into his seat.

On their way out, Salzman said, “Thanks, boys. See you Saturday for softball.” He looked at Coop. “You haven’t even been in the abracadabra wing of the building yet, have you, Mr. Cooper? We’ll get you over there in due time. My point in calling in the West boys is to remind you that there are worse things than jail. Herbert and Jimmy had a little accident recently. But the thing is, in Peculiar Science, accidents happen all the time. And they can happen to anyone.”

Coop nodded. “I get it. I say no and I’m back in jail or I’m a cup of clam juice. Point made. But Phil is trouble. And I’ll need a Marilyn if I’m going to do your job. You should let me call Sally Gifford. I don’t have to tell her that I’m working for Cobra Command.”

Salzman waved a finger at him. “Sorry, but that’s a no. We have someone much better in mind.”

“Who?”

A side door that Coop hadn’t noticed earlier opened and a woman in red came in. She smiled, and Coop’s heart missed a step and fell down the stairs.

“I believe you know Giselle,” said Salzman.

She smiled a big wolf smile. “Hi there, Coop. You miss me?”

He smiled back. “Like chicken pox.”

TWENTY-TWO

THE ROOM WAS CROWDED AND HOT. EVERYONE WAS shoved into one corner of the construction site office because Steve hadn’t moved the furniture out of the way like he did during normal Caleximus services. Even Jerry was uncomfortable, and he’d managed to find a clear spot in a far corner of the room next to some filing cabinets.

“I hope all of you are proud of yourselves,” said Steve.

Jerry started to say something, but he knew he’d just be flapping his lips.

“Not only didn’t we get the summoning box, but you trampled my boy. About killed him, too.”