I returned to my office. Everyone who’d been there when I left had apparently awaited my return.
“Do you have a target?” Gavsot asked.
I nodded. “The Department of Torture, First Circle, sector 38,” I said. “Incidentally, are there actually circles of Hell? Because I from my travels down here I never really got the sense of any kind of geometric pattern to the layout.”
“That’s kind of an informal title, Boss-Man,” Gus said. “There used to be nine circles of Hell and they used to be comparable to the ones from Dante’s Inferno, although they didn’t line up perfectly. But that was a long time ago. As the world above us evolved, Hell’s needs changed and we had to adapt our facilities to accommodate more people and an ever-expanding variety of sins. The Department of Torture hasn’t had rings in centuries. But we still tend to group certain sectors together and identify them as circles. The First Circle is for the smallest offenses and the Ninth Circle is for the biggest offenses.”
“So what is a murderer doing in the First Circle?” I asked.
“How do you know he’s a murderer?” Sylnie piped up.
“Because I was there. He murdered me,” I said. I was getting angry, maybe out of confusion more than anything else. I tried to take a few deep breaths. “Whatever. Whether he’s in the right circle or not, we need to find him and get his blood.”
“You need a blade first,” Jorge reminded me.
I nodded. “Right, right,” I said distractedly. “Anybody got a knife or something?”