I was going to Anaheim, not Hollywood. Anaheim is on the whole other side of town, as far as you can get from the glamour and the ballyhoo and still be in the same city. There was a Disneyland park, which I hoped to visit if I got the chance. If only to chat up Snow White. (Boyhood crushes are a terrible thing.) Still, despite all my best intentions, I was just a bit overawed at being in a city I knew only from films and television. We passed off-ramp signs, for places like Echo Beach and Mulholland Drive, names the whole world knew. It was like seeing road signs to Narnia and Oz.
I was in Los Angeles to meet up with the local field agent, Luther Drood. I didn't know the man, but then, it's a large family, and field agents by their very nature don't come home much. In fact, it's the reason why most of us become field agents. Luther had made Los Angeles his home for more than twenty years, and despite all the good work he'd done, there was always the chance he'd gone native. Nothing like being a big fish in a small pond to make you forget all about the sharks who operate in the larger world.
I was supposed to meet Luther at the Magnificat, the single biggest hotel in LA, opening tomorrow morning in a gala ceremony at nine a.m., sharp. But Luther and I had business to attend to in the Magnificat today, and how we got on would decide whether there would be any grand opening tomorrow. Whenever possible, I like to get in, do the job, and get out again without being noticed, but given the nature of the job, sometimes fire, general mayhem and extensive property damage are just unavoidable side effects.