At the Decker Home

Chloe stared at the cell phone in her hand. "You had Maze do WHAT?" she asked again, hoping her voice hadn't gone up an octave in irritation. From Lucifer's response she feared that hope was in vain.

"Really Detective – there is no need to take that tone" Lucifer's smooth voice sounded through the speaker. "All I asked Maze to do was find someone in the Church here in Los Angeles that MIGHT be able to shed some light on Bradley's nephew – especially on his activities while in Rome."

Chloe sighed. "Look – whatever he got into in Rome doesn't really have anything to do with what is happening in this case." She check quickly to make sure Trixie was still oblivious to anything but the music coming through her headphones and the homework she was working on from school. "His relationship to Father Kinley doesn't speak well about his choice of friends but…"

"His interest in the occult should, at least, make him a person of interest" Lucifer insisted. "Maze's contact has said Kinley had him reading up on all manner of esoteric things, specifically possession and exorcisms. And a place like the Cecil hotel, with its reputation for attracting death in all its forms, much have been on his list of places to read up on."

"Who told Maze about this priest, anyway?" Chloe asked quickly.

"I didn't think to ask" he replied calmly. "She knows so many people in so many walks of life. I assume she dug someone up who would know about the local clergy and who might be useful in this matter. And it seems she was right. Young Mr. Bradley does seem the dodgy sort."

"Even if he read up on every article ever written on the hotel, it still wouldn't put him top of the list of suspects for this murder." Chloe insisted, reaching for a pen and notepad to jot down some of what Lucifer said about the mysterious young Mr. Bradley. "Other than that one link to both our victims we can't place him at the murder scene and we can't prove he had anything to do with Annalise disappearing."

"Maybe not – but he's definitely someone I think you would benefit from talking to. Would you like me to have Maze "arrange" such a meeting?"

Chloe carefully put her pen down. "No – thank you. I think LAPD can handle this without her help."

"If you think so" Lucifer replied, his tone carefully neutral. "Anything else happened since last we spoke?"

Chloe thought briefly about tell him about the breakthrough on DeathStalker24's identity then quickly changed her mind. Knowing Lucifer, he wouldn't be able to resist confronting Milton himself, which would make it hard to get formal confirmation on anything he said. "Not much. I think Dan was thinking about taking another run at Annalise's father – see if knows anymore about his daughter and McIntyre. Ella is running tests on the blood to compare to Gibson's records to see if she can make a match between him and the donor of the blood in the car. If it is his daughter – we'll need to make a notification."

"Is that wise?" Lucifer said somberly. "I thought you and Daniel were afraid that this man's sordid past would rear its ugly head if he thought something had happened to his child."

"Dan says Gibson seemed to make a connection with your brother Amenadiel. If it comes to that maybe he can accompany Dan and make sure the old man doesn't do anything stupid."

"And no information yet on that strange internet handle – DeathStalker24?" Lucifer reached languidly across the table for his drink. It was nearly time for him to go back down to the club to sing but he had a feeling that the Detective still had more about this case she had not revealed.

"Ella's working on it with the cyber crimes unit" Chloe replied hurriedly.

"Oh – that's interesting" Lucifer purred, rising and heading for the elevator. "Well – I'm sure you'll tell me all about it when you have more news. Until tomorrow then – good night."

"Good night" Chloe whispered.

Later that night

The young priest had beat a hasty retreat once Maze had released him in front of his church, cursing himself for his weakness. If he had not been so attracted to the wild beauty of the woman waiting for him in the confessional none of this would have happened. His weakness for women had been his downfall in other parishes but this time he had really thought he had his desires under control. And he had until that woman had sauntered in, asking him about his time in Rome. He had wondered, briefly, how she had known where he had been in seminary. Then she had kissed him and his doubts had melted away – until she had knocked him back and thrown in him into the back of a car with the comment that someone wanted to speak to him. He also wondered if he had really met the Prince of Hell then dismissed it, falling back on the new teaching of the Church – teaching that made the existence of an actual Devil unlikely. It had taken him a few minutes once inside the church to see the envelope with his name on it tacked to the message board in the entrance. Inside was a terse request that he come to the Cecil Hotel. "A matter of life or death?" he muttered, peering intently at the scrap of paper. Considering how this night had begun, the priest wondered if this was just another test of his faith – or another threat to his current situation. There was no signature but the handwriting was almost familiar though he couldn't quite put his finger on whose it might be. He glanced in to the church, hoping to see the old priest he had been assigned to work with then sighed, shoving the paper in his pocket. He could call the police and ask for their help – but without something concrete he suspected they would just file his request away and do nothing. If he didn't respond and something happened he would have a hard time explaining why he had not made any attempt to help.

Outside a cab pulled up to the church steps, dropping off a couple who were dining at a small café nearby. Later they would relate how they had seen a young priest hop into their cab and sending it speeding down the road. Neither could really say anything other than the man had seemed to be in a hurry.
Back alley entrance to the Cecil hotel.

A shadowy figure clung to the darkness outside the hotel's back entrance, keeping as far from the street and hotel lights as he could. The alley was surprisingly empty with most of its homeless denizens choosing to find another place to squat – at least for now. The stories of the hotel's ravenous need for death had penetrated even the most drug-addled or mentally challenged of the street people, making them wary of being close to the old hotel. The figure watched, eyes shimmering, as a cab pulled up in front of the Cecil and a lanky figure piled out, a reflection of the white of the priest's collar catching the little light available. "Good" the figure thought to himself. "He came. Now we can start wrapping this all up and move on." He started to step out of his shadowy corner when a slight crunch sounded from behind him. He whirled around in time to see the tire iron slam into his head and nothing more.

The priest, hearing a muffled cry, darted into the dark alleyway to find the crumpled body of a man in an expensive coat crumpled bloody beside the back door. He turned him over and checked for a pulse, the victim's wide open eyes staring back at him. The blood flowing from the head wound coated the priest's hands as he tried, to find a sign of life as the door behind him swung open.

The evening shift from the Cecil were later to say that they had been leaving via the service exit when they found the young priest kneeling beside the bloody body of a man in their alleyway. One of the employees, a young porter, had identified the victim at once. "Sure – we all knew him. He had been around a lot recently, trying to talk up Annalise. She didn't like him much – was always telling him to leave her alone."

"What was his name?" the uniformed officer had asked.

"James Milton."