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happened here? You know, try the truth for a change."
    "Whats can I tell you Detective Marsten? There’s a lots of crazy peoples out there." Vlade was laying the accent on very thick for some reason.
    "Yeah, and they don’t come any crazier than the Russians, do they Vlade?” Vlade puffed up with pride. A little blood leaked out of one of the holes in his chest. “You want an ambulance there, big guy?”
    “No, I have no need for your decadent Western Medicine, Detective Marsten.”
    “Of course not,” said the Marsten as he ran a hand through his long brown hair, “It’s all cocaine and Vitamin C for you, right? Can you tell me something, Vladdy? Why does all the crazy shit in this town happen to you?”
    “Talk to my lawyer.”
    “Un-hunh.” The detective came and knelt down beside me. He moved easy and light for a big guy, but you could see that responsibility weighed on him. His honest face had such dark circles he might have been part raccoon. He poked at me with his pen and looked around the room carefully. “And what’s your story, little fella? Why’d you go all ape shit on Vladdy here? What’d he ever do to you?”
    I wanted to answer him. I really did. To jump up and grab him by the shirt and say, “He killed me! He friggin’ killed me!” But I didn’t. That would have meant more questions. Questions I didn’t have answers to. On top of which, I was dead. I was pretty sure that meant I didn’t have any kind of rights any more.
    Detective Marsten searched through my pockets. It made me kind of upset. The nerve of some people. No respect for the dead. I don’t know why I should have been offended, it’s not like there wasn’t much in there.
    When a tiny crab crawled out of my shirt Marsten said, “Hunh.” Then he turned to Vlade. “Vlad-O! You know this guy?” Vlade shrugged like he invented the gesture. Marsten said the words the same time Vlade did, “Talk to my lawyer.”
    The detective looked at the brace on my leg. “Hmm,” he said, as he poked at a gap where the brace didn’t fit quite right. He made a note. Then he looked at my face. I struggled to continue staring at the same spot on the ceiling. It’s really hard is not to look around, and also, not to blink. I don’t think I really needed to blink anymore. But habits are hard to break. Then the nosy son-of-a-bitch leaned over and closed my eyes. As he did he whispered. “Something stinks around here and I don’t think it’s just you.”
    Marsten walked over to where Vlade sat, bleeding into his own couch. Marsten looked at him for a moment and then said, “Vladdy, I’m gonna get ya.” Vlade rolled his eyes and looked away with a smirk. Marsten grabbed his chin and brought his face back around. “You’re dirty Vlade, and I can smell it. I can’t prove it, but I damn sure can smell it. And I’m gonna keep after you until I can make it stick.”
    “So what, I should give up to you now?” Vlade said with a smile.
    “No,” said Marsten, “Leave. Go do, whatever it is you do, in some other city. Go be somebody else’s problem.”
    “But, officer, I love it here. If you can make it here…”
    “Yeah, yeah. Make it anywhere, Vlade. Anywhere but here. ‘Cause, I’m going to stay on you. Too much drugs, too many bodies. I’m stayin’ on you.”
    Vlade answered through a yawn, “Please, stop you are sc----aring me.”
    There were more footsteps. Someone came close to me and said, “It’s a shame. He was kinda cute.” The voice was nice, young and female. I couldn’t help myself; I cracked my left eye a little bit. I saw a young blond woman kneeling over me. She put a plastic bag over my right hand.
    That was weird, a plastic bag on my hand. Why would they do that?
    “You know,” said Marsten, “there’s plenty of live men in the room.”
    “You’re not my type,” said the pretty girl as she moved to my left hand. Her name tag dragged across my face. I could see that her name was Amanda.
    “Me.