Lucifer leaned against the detective's car, watching as she and her fellow officers tried to make sense of the oft-times rambling information coming from the pack of homeless that were clustered around the back of the Hotel. He leaned his head back and eyed the structure critically, a frown on his handsome face. So much darkness in one spot, so many ugly memories about one little structure. He wondered, briefly, if Maze would remember the last time they were here...

"Penny for your thoughts" a deep voice rumbled from behind him. Amenadiel, his angelic brother moved effortlessly between the uniformed officers set up to keep the curious public back, waving a friendly hello to a few who recognized him from the few times he'd been at the precinct. He stopped beside his Fallen brother and looked up at the hotel curiously. "Something about this place bothers you?"

"Not bothers, brother. Just old memories coming up that I'd right now rather not deal with." Lucifer languidly waved a hand at the structure in front of them. "Recognize this place?"

"Should I?"

Lucifer shrugged. "Now that I think about it – no you probably don't. But I do. It's the Cecil – home away from home for the downtrodden, the destitute and those with a first class ticket to Hell. I've always made a point to check in on this place when I've made my periodic escapes to the human world. And every time I have…"

"It's been worse than the time before" Amenadiel rumbled.

"Close. Though I have to admit – the death of an accountant for a prestigious firm in the hotel is something of a step up from the last few deaths I've seen here."

"Were you here when Richard Ramirez was in residence?" his brother asked, distaste dripping from his lips as he spoke the serial killer's name.

"Oh that wanker" Lucifer replied dismissively. "Had quite the opinion of himself as I remember. Even tried to curry favor with me by calling out "Hail Satan" as they were leading him away after he was convicted. He died from some disease or other before the state could take his life. Now he's marinating in a vat of his own fears and horror somewhere in the back end of Hell – just another loser who thought he was better than he was."

Amenadiel shuddered slightly at his brother's coldness, memories of what Lucifer had been before this last visit to the mortal realm. "True. But he wasn't the only one who used this place as a staging ground for his crimes. What about that Austrian in the 1990's – what was his name again?"

Lucifer squinted for a moment then shrugged. "Oh – Jack something or other. Killed some prostitutes in Austria then proceeded to come here to do the same. The police, at the time, thought he was trying to imitate Ramirez. Truth was he just had a taste for the hunt. He was a little more interesting than the idiot who came before him. Certainly smarter. Even managed to get the LAPD to take him on a ride-along on the pretext of writing an expose on life on the fringe of society. Quite the good con artist. Hung himself in his cell in Austria. His place in Hell is equally painful – but much more interesting."

"Sorry I asked" Amenadiel muttered.

"And you know" Lucifer continued, ignoring his brother's discomfort with the conversation. "It's not like it was just serial killers that made use of this place. People who believed they had no way out of their sad little existences have taken advantage of the aura of this place to kill themselves in all manner of lurid and interesting ways."

"Remind me to tell Linda she needs to work on building your empathy towards mankind a little more."

Chloe chose that moment to break away from her fellow officers and return to her car. She smiled at the dark-skinned angel leaning against her car. "Hey Amenadiel! Didn't expect to see you today."

"Just passing" the angel replied with a warm smile. "Luci says you have a case here?"

"Yes – and it just figures it would be in the most social media covered hotel in the city" she sighed. "You know who these things go viral in a heartbeat. People will start jumping to conclusions based on little to no evidence and make finding the truth all that much harder."

"What's the truth so far?" Amenadiel asked.

She shrugged. "Victim is John McIntyre, forensic accountant working for the Bradley group. Big investment, hedge fund Management Company run by Don Bradley, from Boston. Family has been in real estate and investments for at least two generations. McIntyre checked into the Stay on Main last night and was found dead in the alley behind the hotel this morning. Not a robbery gone bad - still had his wallet and watch. Which considering where he was found was a minor miracle. Most of the uniforms that work Skid Row were amazed his body hadn't been picked clean before they got there."

The angel stared down at the petite detective with a frown. "Stay on Main?" Amenadiel asked. "I thought this was the Cecil."

"It is" Lucifer replied in a bored tone. "Someone came up with the brilliant idea to turn part of the hotel in to a more "upper class" establishment while keeping most of the higher floors for their less desirable long term residents."

"It was an interesting thought" Chloe responded, watching as the Coroner's techs wheeled the body to a van for transport. "Problem is – everyone uses the same set of elevators so …"

"So you can't escape the riff-raff who have taken up residence both outside of the hotel and within" Lucifer concluded, his eyes watching the curious milling around the entrance to the alley. Some had that "glow" about them, fiery for those from his former realm of Hell and a few (very few) from Heaven. "Azreal's minions" he thought to himself. "Come to gather up the little lost lambs for dear old Dad."

"So your victim met someone in one of those elevators that wanted to do him harm?" Amenadiel asked, watching his brother's eyes follow various figures as they walked down the street.

"Not sure. Everything is pretty hazy right now. There are dozens of hotels with less dodgy reputations and in better parts of town for this guy to have checked into – why chose the Cecil? Why was he here? Was he meeting someone? Trying to hide from someone?" She shrugged in frustration. "Next stop is his office to see if anyone there knows what he was doing."

"Does he have relations who might know something?" Amenadiel watched a disheveled, homeless person push his cart of belongings past the gathered police presence, ignoring their warning to stay out of the crime scene. The person was so bundled up, even in this bright, hot California morning, it was almost impossible to tell if they were male or female. Their possessions, a mad mix of clothing, boxes, and broken hardware were piled high on an old shopping cart with a wonky wheel, causing the cart to occasionally veer into the path of oncoming foot traffic. The angel frowned as he watched the figure disappear down the street towards Skid Row. Something about that figure tickled a memory buried deep inside, so deep he couldn't quite put a finger on what it was.

Chloe turned to watch the homeless individual disappear down the street. "Yes – he has a wife who will meet us at his office. I'll have Dan do the notifications with her while Lucifer and I see what we can find in his work space."

Lucifer straightened with a sigh. "Ah well – might as well get on with it. Sooner we get done with this the better."

Chloe frowned at her partner. "Lucifer – someone died here today. We need to find out why. You know that!"

Lucifer shrugged. "Someone always dies at the Cecil."