Page 61 of Demons Dig Donuts

“Any progress with Mr. Kalt’s properties?” Mr. Heiss asked. He sounded tired.

“Yeah!” Azazel replied dutifully. “We got our people at his shops, all the clubs, his condo and this house he owned too, but uh, Leslie left though.”

“Who?”

“The talking car. Mr. Kalt had her locked up in a garage or somethin’, and when our guys let her out? She booked it.”

“I’ll deal with her later. What I want is more information.”

“Yes, boss. I know. Trust me. We’re looking, okay? We’re checking out his contacts, his employees, everybody. Even his fucking neighbors.”

“And?”

“No sign of Mitternacht yet, but we’re looking and—”

“Look harder,” Mr. Heiss snapped.

There was a pause.

“Can I speak up now?” King asked, his voice a hushed but somehow still very loud whisper.

Mr. Heiss sighed. “What?”

“I’ve seen him comin’.”

“Where?”

“Uh, some place. You’re there. Indy’s there. Weird, you both have yer clothes on…”

“And what else?”

“The clothes on bit is strange. I know I saw the two of you bollock naked—”

“King.”

“Fine, fine!” King groaned. “It’s a shop. I think. There’s a big counter and cash register and rainbows all over the floor. Tonnes of rainbows. You go there, and Mitternatchy whatever is gonna be there. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe the day after. Say, five o’clock.”

“So very helpful as always.”

“Happy to! Wait… What are you doing? Why are you lookin’ at me like that, yeh bleedin’ bastard? Don’t you dare put me back in that poxy drawer, fuck face! I swear I will—”

King’s voice abruptly cut off.

“Was that supposed to make any fucking sense?” Azazel asked. “Any of it?”

“I have no fucking idea.” Mr. Heiss growled low, and the whole house rattled. “I am sick of it. Absolute fucking nonsense. I went through fucking hell to find a worthy prognosticator to help me and what the fuck do I have to show for it? What fucking benefit has it been?”

“Well, you did get one of the jewelry things, right? The human?”

“Yes. Once I figure out a way to kill him, I will take it and—”

Azazel chuckled.

The house shook again from another furious growl.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—” Azazel gasped. “Sorry.” His voice was now strained, breathless. He was being choked. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Care to explain what is so fucking funny to you?” Mr. Heiss barked.