Free Killing Pretty by Richard Kadrey Page A

of course. At least I don’t think so. Last I heard, the real Marlowe is a vampire living happily in Tangiers. Still, I bet this Marlowe has a screenplay. There are more unproduced scripts in L.A. than rats.
    â€œRelax. I’m not playing chaperone. Besides, Brigitte carries a gun, so she doesn’t need my help.”
    Marlowe glances at her, back at the table with her friends.
    â€œThanks for the warning.”
    â€œIt was more friendly advice, but you’re welcome.”
    He leans against the bar and orders a dirty martini. When Carlos goes off to make it, he turns to me.
    â€œSo, if you’re not minding the beauty’s business, why have you summoned me? Fashion advice? First, ditch the Johnny Cash coat. This is L.A., not the Grand Ole Opry.”
    â€œThanks. When I want advice from a Banana Republic catalog, I’ll come to you.”
    Carlos brings him his drink and he pays.
    â€œCarlos says you’re a Fiddler. Is that right?”
    â€œAre you asking because you’re famous and want a favor?”
    â€œNot at all. I’m a small businessman myself. I can pay.”
    â€œCash?”
    â€œYou can bill the agency.”
    He looks at Carlos.
    â€œIs this guy for real?”
    â€œYeah. He’s a regular Derek Flint these days. His boss comes in here all the time.”
    â€œFine,” he says. “Show me what you have.”
    I hand him the knife.
    â€œYou looking for anything in particular? I’m good with dates and original owners.”
    I put the utility cloth in my pocket.
    â€œJust tell me anything you can tell me about it.”
    Marlowe runs his fingers around the hilt, over and around the blade. He sniffs it. Presses the blade to his forehead.
    â€œThat’s weird.”
    â€œWhat’s wrong?”
    â€œThere’s nothing on here, and I mean nothing. You’re not even on here and you just handed it to me.”
    â€œCan you tell me how old it is or where it came from?”
    He takes a gulp of his drink.
    â€œWhat did I just say? There’s nothing here. I’ve never felt that before. It’s a complete blank.”
    â€œCould someone do that with hoodoo?”
    â€œOf course, but I’ve always been able to read through magic. This thing is wild. I might know buyers for something this special. I do consulting and appraising for some of the auction houses.”
    I take back the knife.
    â€œIt’s not for sale.”
    â€œYour loss,” he says, and finishes his drink. “Even though I didn’t find anything, it still counts as a reading, you know.”
    â€œSure. Bill me.”
    He puts down his glass.
    â€œThis is pissing me off. Let me try it one more time.”
    I hand him the knife.
    â€œI want to try something.”
    â€œWhatever you need to do, Kreskin.”
    He holds the knife with the tip straight up and just stares at it for a minute. Then puts the blade to his mouth, licking it from the hilt to the tip in one motion.
    Carlos looks at me. I don’t know if I’m getting my money’s worth out of Marlowe or just feeding some secret knife fetish.
    â€œIf you’re going to popsicle that knife, it better be for business reasons.”
    â€œFuck,” he says, and hands me back the knife. I take it using the utility rag and wrap it up without touching it. I’ll have Vidocq chamois it off again later.
    â€œThere’s nothing on there,” he says. “I get the slightest trace of you, but nothing else. It’s like that thing is a black hole, sucking everything in. You’ve got to tell me where you got it. Are there any more like it?”
    â€œNo, I don’t, and I don’t know. Just bill me for your time.”
    â€œWhere should I send it?”
    â€œBring it to Max Overdrive.”
    â€œOr he can leave it here,” says Carlos.
    â€œI think I’d be more comfortable here. That friend of yours with the metal hands creeps me the fuck