"I think I'll be better off with the recorder. That way we won't have to worry about reception problems with the tail."
"How do you want to pick it up?" he said.
"I have to go to the doctor's at ten tomorrow morning to get my stitches out. Have somebody at his office." I gave him the address.
"Then that's about it for right now," he said.
"Minos, there's one other thing that bothers me. Maybe I imagine it."
"What?"
"Sometimes it's like he knows I'm still a cop. Like maybe he wants to take a fall."
"Who knows? A guy who shoots speed into his arm made a contract to destroy himself a long time ago. They all flame out one way or another. Who cares how they do it? Hang loose," he said, and hung up.
That night I was watching television on sun porch with Tony and Paul when the phone rang in the kitchen and the Negro houseman told me that I had a call. I picked the receiver up off the Formica counter. sat down on a stool, and put it to my ear. The counter gave onto the porch, and I could see Tony's and Paul's faces in the illumination of the television screen.
"Hello," I said.
"Dave, it's Clete. Are you where you can talk?"
"We're watching television."
"I dig you. Just listen, then. That redheaded broad just called me at the club. From what I get, somebody beat the shit out of her. She wants to see you, but she doesn't want Cardo to know about it."
"Uh-huh," I said.
"She wouldn't tell me much. She sounds like one scared broad. She's staying at a friend's place out in Metairie. I've got the address."
"I see."
"Cardo's right there?"
"That's right."
"Look, pick me up at the bar, and we'll drive out there tonight. Tell Tony you're lending me some money, I'm having trouble meeting the vig with one of his shylocks. He'll buy that. I owe those fuckers five large."
"All right, Cletus. I'll see what I can do."
I hung up the receiver and sat back down in front of the television set. I brushed at my pants leg distractedly.
"What's the trouble?" Tony said.
"Oh, nothing, really. Clete's having some money problems. He gets a little strung out sometimes. I guess I'd better go see him. Would it bother you if I came in late?"
"No, here's the house key. Just tell the guys at the gate you'll be back late so they won't think it's somebody else, you know what I mean?"
"I'll be quiet coming in."
"Sure, don't worry about it. Somebody's squeezing your friend?"
"A little problem with the vigorish."
"Tell him to come see me about it. Maybe I can work it out."
"That's good of you, Tony."
It took me a half hour to drive to the bar on Decatur. Clete was waiting for me under the colonnade. It had started to mist, and he wore a brown raincoat over his sports jacket. I pulled to the curb, and he jumped in the truck. He read me the address in Metairie off a folded piece of paper, and I headed out of the Quarter toward Interstate 10.
"Who beat her up?" I said.
"She wouldn't say."
"Why didn't she want Tony to know about it?"
"I didn't ask her. Dave, are you making it with her?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"I told you no."
"You didn't have just one flop in the hay with her?"
"You heard what I said, Clete."
"Yeah, well, usually broads like that get remodeled after they let the wrong guy in the bread box. She called for you, not Cardo. What should I conclude on that, Streak? Or am I just full of shit?"
"I didn't talk to her. I don't know what happened. And you're pissing me off."
We were silent in the cab of the truck. It started to rain harder, and I turned on the windshield wipers.
"I'm just trying to help, believe it or not," he said.
"I know that, Clete."
"I'm backing your play, and I don't care if I get paid for it or not."
"What do you mean?" I looked over at him. Rainy patterns of light ran down his face.
"I didn't get any bucks from the DEA this week. I called Dautrieve, and he said I was terminated."
"Are you kidding?"
"Wait a minute, don't get heated up. He said some other guys made the decision. He didn't have any control over it."
"He should have told me."
"Maybe he didn't have a chance to. Fuck it. Look, there's our exit up there. Welcome to Metairie, the only town in the United States to elect a Ku Klux Klansman and American Nazi as its state representative. What a depressing shithole. This place makes you think maybe the white race ought to be picking the cotton."
"I've got to have a talk with Minos."
"Talk all you want to. When you deal with the feds, you're dealing with people whose thought patterns are printed on computer chips. Besides, they all smell like mouthwash. Did you ever trust a guy who smells like mouthwash?"
She opened the apartment door on the night chain. She had on a short-sleeved terry cloth robe. Her right eye was a purple knot, and there was still a crust of dried blood in one nostril. She slipped the chain loose and opened the door wide. Her arms were streaked with yellow and purple bruises, the kind that a man's clenched hand leaves. I could smell the Mentholatum that she had smeared on her skin. She closed the door and locked it again as soon as we were inside.
"I thought maybe you wouldn't come," she said.
"Why?" I said.
"I don't know, it was just what I thought." She talked carefully, as though the inside of her mouth were hurt. "There's some beer and pop in the refrigerator if you want some."
"Who did it, Kim?" I said.
"Jimmie Lee Boggs."
"When?"
"This morning. Just after I got up. I opened the door to get the newspaper and he hit me in the face and knocked me back inside the room. I never had anybody hit me like that. I didn't believe anyone could hit that hard."
I could hear the humiliation in her voice, see the shame in her face. I had seen the same look of debasement in victims of violence many times, and it was almost impossible to convince them that they were not deserving of their fate. I could feel Clete's awkwardness next to me.
"I think I'll take that beer," he said, walking to the refrigerator. "Then I'll just step out here on the balcony and have a cigarette."
He slid open the glass doors that gave onto a small balcony with a barbecue grill on it, then closed them behind him and looked out over a lighted, weed-filled lake that was dented with rain.
She sat on the couch with her hands in her lap and her head bowed.
"Why didn't you think I'd come?" I asked again.
"Because you know I'm a snitch."
"What else?"
Her eyes were averted. She looked small sitting on the couch. I sat down next to her. She turned her face up, then looked away again.
"What else, Kim?"
"Because you know I betrayed you. I told Lieutenant Baxter about the buy down at Cocodrie. That's why Jimmie Lee Boggs came after me. He said he figured it was either you or me who dropped the dime on him. He beat me all over the apartment. Then he twisted a towel in my mouth and filled up the sink and held my head under the water until I almost passed out. He kept saying, 'Gargle time, beautiful. Rinse out your mouth, now. Think about the canary I'm gonna stuff in it.' He would have killed me if the landlady hadn't started banging on the door for the rent."
She glanced sideways at my face.
"Why were you snitching for Nate Baxter?"
"My brother's a groom at the Fairgrounds. Lieutenant Baxter has him in jail for possession. He says he can upgrade the charge to conspiracy to distribute, and Albert-that's my brother-will get fifteen years in Angola."
"Baxter put you inside Tony's crowd?"
"I already had the job at the club. All I had to do was become available."
"Available?" I said.
"I said to Baxter, 'What do you mean, exactly?' He says, 'You've got a piece of equipment that'll get you anything you want.' He looks across his desk, then he goes. "That's big-picture clear, isn't it? Talk it over with your brother. Let me know what you decide. It doesn't matter to me, hon, one way or another.'"