Scott Sigler: Nocturnal: A Novel

ALSO BY SCOTT SIGLER

Infected

Contagious

Ancestor

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2012 by Scott Sigler

All rights reserved.

Published in the United States by Crown Publishers, an imprint of the Crown

Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

www.crownpublishing.com

CROWN and the Crown colophon are registered trademarks

of Random House, Inc.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Sigler, Scott.

Nocturnal / Scott Sigler. — 1st ed.

1. Detectives — California — San Francisco — Fiction. 2. Homicide

investigation — Fiction. I. Title.

PS3619.I4725N63 2012

813’.6 — dc23 2011040389

eISBN: 978-0-307-95276-9

Jacket design by Jarrod Taylor

Jacket photograph: © Andres Rodriguez/Alamy

Author photograph: © Amy Davis-Roth, surlynamics.com

v3.1

For Byrd Leavell, who makes things happen .

For Julian Pavia and the amazing job he did helping me

make this novel what it is .

And for A. Kovacs, who keeps me sane .

Contents

Cover

Other Books by This Author

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Book I - People

Penance

Good Morning, Sunshine

The Morning News

All in the Family

Robin-Robin Bo-Bobbin

Pookie’s Sister

Bryan’s Lie

Fade In, Fade Out

Rex Wakes Up

Aggie James, Duckies and Bunnies

The Belt

The Drawing

Van Ness and Fern

BoyCo

Chief Zou’s Office

The White Room

Rex Gets in Trouble

Sharrow Sends Bryan Home

Robin Gets the Call

Hunter’s Blind

Pleasant Dreams

Bryan Clauser: Morning Person

Bryan’s Dose of Reality

Pookie and His Partner

Nothing to See Here …

Robin and Spoiled Milk

Rex Gets Good News

Black Mr. Burns

Pookie’s Flashback

Hair of the Dog

Pookie’s Pimpin’ Gear

The Babushka Lady

Golden Shower

Robin Runs the Show

The Artist and His Subject

Big Max

Pookie Phones a Friend

Mr. Sandman …

Alex Panos Gets Gone

Another Day, Another Body

The Only Thing We Have to Fear Is …

Bryan Lets Pookie Do the Talking

A Visit from Chinatown

Coal for the Engine

Like Father, Like Son

Parlar, J. —?

Too Cool for School

The Rulebook

Mr. Biz-Nass

Hector’s Revenge

Blue Balls

Roberta

The Golden Gate Slasher

A Picture Is Worth a Thousand Words

An Offer Aggie Can’t Refuse

BMB, B & P Trade Notes

Verde & the Birdman

Marco

Aftermath

The Long Night

Susie Panos

Post-killing Scene

The Hunt

The Arrowhead

Pay the Piper

Robin Has House Guests

The Monster

Mr. Biz-Nass and the Arrow

Alder Jessup

Jebediah Erickson’s House

Amy Zou’s Tea Time

Closing In

The Stakeout

Tard

The Delivery Boy

Come and Play

Tard’s Job

Cowardice

The Kill

The Basement

The Rumpus Room

Jebediah Erickson

Book II - Monsters

Sly, Pierre, Sir Voh & Fort

Pookie Gets His Friend to the Hospital

Up on the Roof

Late to the Party

Tard’s First Time

The RapScan Machine

Aggie Gets a Roommate

Fathers and Sons

A Hospital Visit

Murder Was the Case

The Hidey Hole

Alex

Loneliness

Hands

Homecoming

Mommy

The Groom’s Walk

Long Live the King

A New Day

The Kingdom

Gear

Council Meeting

Aggie’s Price

Origin Story

In the Maze

A Blast from Amy’s Past

Zou Talks to Bryan

Phone Home

Chillin’ Like a Villain

A New Need

None More Black

Home Sweet Home

Handiwork

Aggie Gets Out!

Date Night

Bryan & Pookie Meet Aggie James

Calling in the Troops

Taking a Bullet

Into the Breach

Bryan Fights Sly, Rex, Pierre

Finish Him

Voyeur

Pedal to the Metal

Dog Fight

All the Teeth

The Rude Awakening

Cloaks and Daggers

The Crown

Civic Center

Innocent Until Proven Guilty

Can’t You Smell That Smell?

The Eagle

Bloodhound

Arena Rock

Pookie Chang’s Last Moments

Battle Royale

Big Pimpin’

Holding Hands

Author’s Note

Acknowledgments

Books That Influenced This Novel

Penance

You’re not welcome here, Paul.”

Most places in the world, a statement like that sounded normal. Unfriendly, perhaps, but still common, still acceptable.

Most places, but not at a Catholic church.

“But someone’s following me,” Paul said. “And it’s cold out.” Paul’s eyes flicked left, flicked right, too fast to take anything in. He looked haunted.

That wasn’t Father Esteban Rodriguez’s problem. This man, if he could be called that, would never again be allowed in the Cathedral of St. Mary of the Assumption. Never again.

“You’ve been told,” Esteban said. “You’re not part of this church anymore.”

Paul’s eyes narrowed, cleared. For a moment, Esteban saw a glimmer of the wit that had made Paul so popular, so engaging.

“What about forgiveness?” Paul said. “That’s what we’re all about, forgiveness of our sins. Or are you better than Our Savior?”

Esteban felt rage — a rare emotion — and quickly fought to bring it under control. “I am only a man,” he said. “Perhaps a weak one at that. Maybe the Lord can forgive you your sins, but I can’t. You may not seek shelter here.”

Paul looked down. He shivered. Esteban shivered, too. San Francisco’s evening chill — a wet, clinging thing — rolled through the church door that Esteban blocked with his body.

Paul wore a sagging blue coat that had once probably been puffy and shiny. Maybe it had looked nice on the original owner, whomever that might be, however many years ago that was. Paul’s pants were dirty — not caked with filth, but spotted here and there with finger streaks of food, grease, other things. Years ago, this man had helped care for the homeless; now he looked like one of them.

“I have nowhere to go,” Paul said to the ground.

“That is not the church’s problem. That is not my problem.”

“I’m a human being, Father.”

Esteban shook his head. This disgusting, demonic creature before him thought himself human ? “You don’t belong here. You’re not wanted here. This is a sanctuary — one doesn’t let wolves in among the sheep. Why don’t you go somewhere you do belong? If you don’t leave, I’ll call the police.”

Paul looked away, down the street. He seemed to be searching for something, something … specific. Something that wasn’t there.

“I told the police,” Paul said. “Told them someone was following me.”

“What did they say?”

Paul looked Esteban in the eyes.