“There must be. You’re a master thief.” Qaphsiel looked at Giselle. “You’re one, too, right? Surely between the two of you, you can think of something.”

Giselle shook her head. “Coop’s right. Even if we knew where it was, there’s no way to get it out of the DOPS.”

“You heard the lady,” said Coop. “Besides, it’s safe there. They think it’s a bomb. No one is going to open it.”

“But what if they do?” said Qaphsiel.

Giselle put a hand on Coop’s shoulder. “You know, they just might. They really want to know what’s inside the box, and if they think they can defuse the bomb . . .”

“Hold on just one minute,” said Coop. “You claim you’re an angel. You’ve been on Earth for four thousand years. You blew a guy up and then you made him disappear. Why don’t you just magic your way into the DOPS and take the damned box yourself?”

“Because I’m an angel,” said Qaphsiel. “I’m not allowed to steal.”

“But why come to me?” said Coop. “There are a thousand thieves in L.A.”

Qaphsiel stood and said, again in the voice that shook the house, “Because you’re the Chosen One. The Savior of Mankind.”

“What? Really?” said Coop.

Qaphsiel sat down. “No. That was my little joke. Sorry. I don’t get to talk to people that much,” he said.

“I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“You’re just a person, but not just any person. You’re someone at a party who bumps into someone, who bumps into someone, who bumps into someone who spills a drink on the host. See? You’re part of a chain reaction that’s been running for thousands of years. Plus, you’re the only thief I know. And you seem relatively honest.”

“Relatively,” said Giselle.

“You still have my stone,” said Coop.

She ignored him. “None of this matters. The DOPS probably already has the box in a vault. It’s over and done with.”

Qaphsiel slumped in the beanbag chair. “After all these years,” he said.

“Sorry. Is there anything we can do for you?”

The angel looked around the apartment. “I sleep in the park most of the time, but I don’t really want to go back there tonight. If I leave you the gold, can I sleep on your sofa?”

“I suppose. You did save us from Eddie,” said Coop. “Yeah, you can stay. But keep your gold. The sofa isn’t that comfortable.”

“See? An honest thief,” said Qaphsiel.

Someone knocked at the door. Coop walked over quietly and peered through the glass peephole. He looked disgusted and pulled the door open. It was a kid holding a pizza box in his hands.

“Hi. That’s twenty-two fifty,” he said.

Coop pulled two twenties from his pocket and handed them to the kid. “Keep the change,” he said.

Qaphsiel leaned, resting his elbows on his knees.