The Murdered Metatron (The Metatron Mysteries) by James Glass

Author:James Glass [Glass, James]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Sekhmet Press LLC
Published: 2014-01-07T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER V

When Smith woke the next morning he found a hand-written sticky note on a letter. It was his own handwriting, but he didn’t remember writing it. He unfolded the letter the sticky note had been attached to, read it and groaned. He couldn’t argue with it because it made so much sense. He wondered why it had taken him so long to figure it out.

He picked up the phone and dialed Calahan’s number, popping two aspirin while he waited for the old man to answer. When the other end of the line went to voicemail he was tempted to hang up, but instead left a message.

“It’s Smith. Could you drop by my office today? Thanks for the drinks and the hangover.”

He hung up and let his head fall back against his chair as he stared at the ceiling. A minute later the phone rang and Smith expected to hear a hungover Calahan’s voice on the other end. Instead there was an eerie pause and the line crackled.

“Hello?”

“Well, Mr. Smith?” came Marduk’s faraway voice.

“Ahh, good, I was hoping you’d get in touch with me today. I have an update.”

“You do,” the demon said, voice skeptical.

“Meet me at the pub in the Gettysburg Hotel in fifteen minutes. I’ll see you there.”

Smith hung up without waiting for a reply and got to his feet. He left the letter propped on the desk, making sure the side with Calahan’s name printed in large letters was easily visible from the door. He left the lights on and the door unlocked when he exited his office for the last time. It was a bittersweet event leaving this brief life behind, but it was time to move on.

Pazuzu and Marduk found him five shots deep at the bar in the Gettysburg Hotel. He finished the sixth shot as they drew up next to him and he slammed the glass on the bar top. When the bartender looked up Smith motioned for him and the man walked over to the trio.

“Already told you, you got to hold off for a few minutes, Mr. Smith.”

“Not for me,” Smith said, “For my friends here. I’d just like a Coke.”

The bartender eyed the two demons, raised an eyebrow, then went about pouring a glass of Coke and two shots of Jack Daniel’s. Smith slid the man a twenty dollar bill along with the other cash and change left on the bar in front of him.

“All yours, Dan. Thanks.”

The bartender gave a nod and slid the notes and change off the bar into his hand. “Thanks, John. You have a safe night.”

He gave the demons another glance, this one filled with hate, before moving back to the cash register. The demons watched him in silence, their expressions forced to neutrality.

“You know Dan?” Smith asked.

Marduk sneered, his eyes never leaving the bartender’s back. “We know Dan.”

Sensing his companion’s growing rage, Pazuzu interjected quickly, “You said you have information for us, Mr. Smith?”

Smith nodded and raised his glass in a toast. When the demons stared blankly at him he indicated that they should raise their shot glasses.

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