The Devil Is a Gentleman by J. L. Murray Page A

said.
    “You are much like him, you know,” he said. “You don’t want to think it, but you are.” He took a long draw of his cigarette and for a moment the smoke surrounded his face like some sort of halo. “The angelwine,” he said. “I have seen what it does. The man that attacked you, Bradley. He was a foolish man. I do not know where he got the angelwine, but The Blood, they say he takes too much. Takes it without thinking, you see. And then he cries when it burns him up.” Naz took another drag of his cigarette. “He was a foolish man,” he said again.
    “He had a wife,” I said. “And a daughter.”
    “Yes,” he said. “And mistress. He killed mistress, did you know? Tore out her pretty throat. He was disgusting.” Naz spat on the ground. “His wife will be better off. She knows nothing, The Blood will leave her alone. As long as she doesn’t make a fuss. And she will get money when the body is found.”
    “Why?” I said. “Why not just make him disappear like all the others?”
    “I am not heartless, Nikita,” he said. “Dorrance has his reasons, too, but so do I. I will not leave his wife with nothing. Children are important. You know yourself what it is like growing up not knowing.”
    “Yes,” I said.
    He nodded. “I know this, too.”
    “Why are you telling me all of this?” I said. “Won’t they be upset that you’re talking to me?”
    “Nikita, you are family,” he said. “That is why I tell you this. You saved my life once, so now I save yours.”
    “What do you mean?” I said.
    “I mean,” he said, “The Blood want you to disappear. And they want me to do it.”
    “Jesus,” I said. “Why?”
    “You are dangerous,” he said. “You have friends that scare them. And that business with Abaddon,” he laughed, “they pissed all over themselves about that.”
    “But I didn’t even know they existed,” I said. “Until today.”
    “You spoke with the commissioner of the police,” he said. “They know this. You spoke with Frank Bradley, too. And the other one, the one everyone is afraid of, you are the best of friends with him.”
    “Who?” I said.
    “The Death-Man,” he said. “He disappears when he wants and no one can find him but you. We have tried. The Blood would like him to disappear, but I fear he is bigger than all of them, monsters or no.”
    “Are you talking about Sam?” I said. “He’s just my boss.”
    “And this chief of police. Smithy. The way they see it, Nikita, you have your hands in many pockets. Powerful pockets. They fear you.”
    “So now what,” I said.
    He eyed me for a long moment. “I’ve thought about it,” he said. “Long time, I think about it. If I kill you, there is no hope for me. No hope at all. I am a bad man, worse than The Blood because I do this for money. Maybe they do it for power or because their money made them crazy. I do not know why. But I do it only for money. If I kill you, I will be damned.”
    “You might be damned already,” I said.
    “Perhaps,” he said. His cigarette had burned down to the butt and he tossed it away. “But maybe you can save me, yeah?” He tried to smile, but it flickered into a grimace. “I sent my men away,” he said. “They work for me. I always prided myself that my guys, they are all loyal. Like a family.” He sighed. “They love the money as I loved it at their age. So stupid. If they know I talk to you, they kill me. Loyal, yes, but not to me. They love the deepest pocket.”
    “Are we supposed to just disappear? Run away and start a new life? I’m not doing that.”
    “There is no running away, Nikita,” said Naz. “They can find you. They can find anyone. We are all dead men.”
    “Well, I’m no man,” I said.
    “Yes,” said Naz, “but you’ll die just as well as the rest of us.”
    I heard the sound of a car coming, getting louder. After a few seconds the sound was right outside the large front door, the sound of tires on gravel louder than it had