Chapter Text
The Captain sighed as he sat down and put his feet up on the Lieutenant’s desk. “How the hell does someone go from beat cop to detective in five years?”
“Yeah, I agree. No one’s done it before, best of my knowledge.”
“Not even close. It’s normally twelve years plus. Best I’ve seen is eight.”
The Lieutenant shrugged. “Well, we’re not talking about an ordinary person here. Finished first on the detective's exam. Big margin, too.”
“So what’s the secret?”
“Works like a sonuvabitch. Like, never sleeps, can't begin to tell you how much overtime he's got. For some reason, real good at getting confessions, too. It’s like suspects just can’t shut up. As far as the physical requirements for the job, especially the strength and speed stuff, well…”
The captain took his feet down, leaned forward, and toyed with the snow globe on the Lieutenant’s desk. “Couple, three suspects have also wound up in mental hospitals. What’s the story with that?”
“Yeah,” the lieutenant sighed. “Last one kept blabbering about the Devil. That was three months ago, guy’s still over at the psych ward in Van Nuys, doped up to the gills. I don’t know, some people’re just goofy.”
The captain put the snow globe back, leaned forward, and looked at the lieutenant hard. “So you think Morningstar’s the real deal?”
The lieutenant exhaled slowly. “Well, it’s a little weird. Came here from London eight years ago, sailed through Cal State in three years, scored first on the exam at the academy, and here we are. But they did a full background check when he applied here, and he checks out.”
The captain’s attention was directed to the snow globe again. “You know what else is weird.? I went over it, too, and although everything’s there – school records, employment, vaccinations, although apparently that’s it for medical records, guy’s never been sick a day in his life, far as we can tell… But we’ve never been able to find anyone who actually remembers him from more than eight years ago. No teachers, no employers, no roommates. Not even family.”
“I’ve talked to him about that,” said the lieutenant. “Says he hasn’t seen his parents in ‘eons,’ whatever the fuck that means.”
“That’s the way Brits talk.”
“So we weren’t able to track the parents. Asked him whether he has any brothers or sisters, he says, ‘Not on an earthly plane.’” Both men laughed. “So I guess that has to do with that auto accident when he was nine, best I can figure.”
The captain stared at a spot about three feet to the left and a foot above the lieutenant’s head. “What do you think?” he said at last.
“Look, the guy’s a bit of a mystery, I’ll admit. But he’s been a great cop, and you’re not going to find anyone more motivated. Some guys are just here for the paycheck and the bennies, some really believe in what they’re doing, but this guy? Actually told me one time that he was dedicated to –” the lieutenant made air quotes – ‘punishing evil.’ Brits, right?” Both men laughed again.
“So how do you want to handle it?” asked the captain.
The lieutenant’s fingers did a drum-tap on the desk. “I think I’ll pair him up with Espinoza in Homicide. Take another look at that shooting at LUX last week.”
“Thought Espinoza closed that one out. Drug deal gone bad, something like that.”
“Count on Espinoza taking the path of least resistance. Shit, you know Espinoza. If he can't close out a case in the first twenty-four hours, it’s not getting solved. Couple of fresh eyes might help.”
The captain sighed and stood up. “Okay, I’ll sign off on it.” He chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” the lieutenant said as he stood to rise to his superior officer.
“Just thinking of the reaction he’s gonna get when he introduces himself to a witness as ‘Detective Lucifer Morningstar.’”
* * * * *
Detective Daniel Espinoza looked up from his pudding to eye his new partner. “What the fuck?” was the first thing out of his mouth.
“Pardon?”
“Listen, pal, maybe somebody didn’t tell you, but we’re not going to a party.” Nazzari over in Vice was a natty dresser, and occasionally showed up in a three-piece suit, but even he didn’t sport a color-coordinated pocket square. Besides, the suit this Morningstar character was wearing looked like something someone wouldn’t be able to afford on a detective’s salary. Which gave Espinoza an idea that he’d have to check into later…
“I’m sorry, I meant no offense, I simply prefer to look my best.”
Espinoza felt a chill in his bones. The tall man was smiling at him, but the look was positively vulpine. “Hey, look, no worries. Standard dress is sort of like what I’m wearing.” He gestured to the suede jacket, sweatshirt, dark jeans, and work boots. Lucifer continued smiling, but Espinoza could swear he saw a look of distaste flicker over the man’s face.
“Actually,” Espinoza continued, “What you’ve got on might work for what you’ve gotta do here.”
“What might that be?” Lucifer sat down in a chair on the other side of the desk, stretching out his legs.
“There was this shooting at LUX last week? The nightclub?”
“I know of it. I’ve not had the opportunity to grace it with my presence.”
“Anyway, some singer got waxed there last week, right in front of the place. Pretty big deal, lots of press, Delilah something or other was her name. She was pretty hot shit, from what I was told, I don’t listen to that stuff so I wouldn’t know. Anyway, shooter gets wiped out by a bus as he’s making his getaway, turns out he was slinging dope, and Delilah was a customer. Don’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out what happened there, right?”
Espinoza waited for Morningstar to nod his agreement. When that wasn’t forthcoming, Espinoza continued. “But my pain-in-the-ass lieutenant wants to take another look at it, I mean, it’s not like we’re not already buried up to our asses in other cases.” Lucifer’s eyes briefly flicked along Espinoza’s near-empty desk. “So give it another look-see just to shut the lieutenant up, okay?”
“I’ll read the file,” said Morningstar. “Anything else I should look for?”
“Might take a run at the club owner, see if she knows anything. I tried to talk to her the night of the shooting, she wouldn’t give me the time of day, told me to call her lawyer, Richards, something like that.” Espinoza smiled. “Maybe seeing as how you’re all spruced up, you’ll have better luck getting in than I did.”
Lucifer stood up, smoothing his cuffs. Espinoza glanced at the diamond-studded cufflinks. No way the guy didn’t take bribes, he thought. “A bit of warning. The club’s a cesspool, what with drugs and other stuff, why we haven’t been able to shut it down I have no idea. While we were interviewing witnesses there last week, one of the unis claims he saw two people actually fucking in one of the booths. And the owner’s a real piece of work, came across as a forty-eight carat bitch, if you know what I mean.”
Lucifer nodded. “I do,” he said, and left.
* * * * *
The most sought-after quality in a bouncer is the ability to look intimidating, and this particular one could’ve taught a master class in it. It was no wonder that they chose him to man the rope line at the entrance to the club. “I’d like to speak to the owner,” said Lucifer.
“Yeah, pal, and I’d like an audience with the Pope. I’ve got a better shot.” Why not amuse the guy, he thought. “And who should I say is calling?”
“Detective Lucifer Morningstar.”
The bouncer laughed out loud. “The fuck? You’re kidding, right? What kind of name is…” His voice faded as he looked into the other man’s eyes. There was something there, something beckoning but with just a hint of danger behind it. More than a hint, actually. Later, he would think that he’d seen the eyes change color, taking on a reddish hue, but he was sure he’d just imagined that.
The bouncer unhooked the rope. “I’ll let Miss Decker know you want to talk to her,” he said as Lucifer walked past him and into LUX.