Steve found him still doubled over and sat him upright. “Is everyone else all right?”

The group nodded and mumbled yes miserably, wiping cake, jam, and fruit from their faces and clothes.

“Who was that?” said Tommy.

“It could have only been one bunch: those Cladis Abaddonis bastards,” said Steve.

“Why go after us?” said Tommy.

“And how did they know where we’d be?” said Susie.

“They came after us because they’re heathen assholes, that’s why,” said Steve. “And I bet I know how they found us. It was that Coop guy. He probably saw one of our pendants the other night and sent the Abaddonians after us.”

“Maybe he’s been with them all along,” said Susie.

“Son of a bitch,” said Steve. “I’m going to kick that private eye’s ass until he finds him.”

Leonard pulled Jerry to his feet. “Dad,” he said. “I might be able to help.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

THEY’D STARTED WORK AT NINE THIRTY IN THE MORNING. It was now past two. No one had eaten lunch. The coffee was gone and so were the donuts someone had stolen from the break room. Basically, it was an office full of frustrated, caffeine-deprived, sugar-crashing psychopaths. Bayliss had an energy bar hidden in her jacket pocket, but there was no way she was letting anybody know that. Especially Nelson. Locked in the room all day, he hadn’t been able to get at his flask. Bayliss tried not to take such delight in watching him sweat and get shaky, but if she could have read Coop and Giselle’s minds, she might have been able to take some comfort in knowing they felt the same way.

They were in the same office where they’d taken Coop on his first day at the DOPS. Now the big table was covered in blueprints, thaumaturgic scans, Kirlian satellite photos, and spectral charts of Mr. Babylon’s Laurel Canyon mansion.

Coop held up an overhead photo showing the residence’s aura. It was black, and spikes around the edges looked like angry crab claws.

“I hate these damned spook mansions. The last time I did a job in one I landed in jail,” Coop said.

“That’s because someone gave you up to the cops,” said Giselle. “That’s not going to happen this time. Remember that we’re in this with you.”

“Cops saving me from cops. It’s a little surreal.”

“At least it’s one less thing to worry about,” said Bayliss.

“Still. The whole thing feels cursed. I was hoping the box would be in a nice bank vault or nuclear missile silo. Those I could handle. This place is a mess.”

“Why?” said Bayliss. “Talk us through it.”