annoy her.
She lit up a cigarette. “You didn't hear nothing from me, you understand?”
“ Sure, nothing.”
“ Not a word of it,” added deYampert.
“ Half the police force in this damned city's been paid to look the other way, and my baby brother was paid to leave town. Money… money is power.”
“ Paid by whom?”
“ People high up, that's all I know. Hell, if I knew any more, I'd have got my fair cunt outta here too, but Davey wouldn't tell me nothing, the little bastard…wanted it all to himself- the money, that is. Had some fool notion he could buy Daddy's love with it. Stupid shit… said it was for my own good that we never speak on it, not ever. Said it could cost me my life, which I didn't at first believe, but then the killings kept on happening, and then I decided maybe he wasn't lying after all.”
Alex was skeptical, and deYampert laughed aloud, saying, “So, you want us to believe there's been some big conspiracy here, that people in high places don't want the Queen of Hearts killer's identity known? Baby-cakes, that kind of bullshit will get you nowhere with us, you understand that? Nowhere. Right, Alex?”
“ Two fuckin' dumb cops who can't find the most vicious freakin' killer this city's ever known, and why? Because you can't see past your slimy noses. Why do you think they called in a psychic? They want to manipulate this whole case.”
“ Who are they?'' pressed Alex, snatching the cigarette from her mouth and tossing it into the sink.
“ Why do you think the fucking governor and the mayor and all those muckety-mucks are interested in the case? For tourism's sake? For God's sake, open your eyes. The killer is one of their own, and-''
“ What the hell're you talking about, snatch?” shouted Ben, approaching her like a stampeding rhino until Alex held up a hand to him.
“ I'm talking about the country-club set. I'm talking about people with enough money and power to bury all three of us in this room tonight, if they wanted.”
“ You're talking about some sort of cover-up surrounding Surette?” asked Alex, wondering again about the complete lack of paper in Surette's apartment on the night they had searched it.
Jodi-alias-Susie sniffed back a tear of concern. “They're covering it up by paying off people like Davey to get the hell out of town.”
“ Craziest wad of crap I ever heard,” said deYampert, dismissing the entire notion. “Come on, Alex. Let's see about reality. Let's go, Miss Susie.” She only frowned at the big cop, but her eyes went pleadingly to Sincebaugh. “Look, what reason do I have to lie? I'm just telling you what little I know. Davey wouldn't say much, but he was paid plenty to leave town.”
“ Who paid him to leave? Who?”
“ He wouldn't tell me.”
Alex nodded and forced a fifty into her hand.
She pushed the cash back at him. “My life's worth more to me than fifty bucks, pal.”
“ All right, sure.” Alex retrieved the money. “We'll be in touch.”
“ Not if I can help it.”
Alex then followed his partner down to the waiting unmarked squad car. Ben got on the radio, struggling with a pack of gum at the same time.
“ Put out a warrant on Gilreath,” Alex said.
“ We tried that once before, remember?”
“ This time extend it to Palladium. Have the cops up there pick him up for us.”
“ //he's there.”
“ You have to be so skeptical all the time?”
“ Hey, skeptical's part of what we do, or have you forgotten that, Alex?”
“ Some thing eating you, Big?”
“ Shit, Alex, think about it. You're taking advice from a lesbian prostitute on how to conduct an investigation? When before you refused any help whatsoever from Dr. Desinor? Give me a break, Sincy.”
“ So who are you calling?”
“ I'm making a phone call home to Fiona and the kids. I know, I know, the brass don't want us patching through and tying up the lines, but do you see a working pay phone within a mile of here?”
“ That's okay, Ben.”
“ Damn right it's okay. It's okay to check in to home once in a while. Maybe if you had a home… oh, for Chrissake, Alex, we're chasing phantoms here.”
“ Hey, we've chased phantoms before. New Orleans is full of phantoms. Home of Anne Rice and the Vampire Lestat, remember? So what's got you so steamed and on edge?” Alex could feel there was a problem.
“ Ahh, nothing that can't be fixed with another one of those home equity loans. Sorry, partner. I'll make that bulletin call.”
“ Never mind. Drive! I'll call in the warrant.”
“ Drive where?”
“ Let's have another look-see at Surette's old place.”
“ Are you kidding? The tape came down on that freakin' place a year ago; no idea who's living there now; you go in there poking around and the landlord loses a tenant when the new people decide the friggin' place is haunted or something; then we get another citizen's complaint, and Landry'Il have our-”
“ Hey, it's not like Surette met his violent end there. He's not likely to be there in spirit.”
“ Then what in hell do you expect to find there after all this time?”
“ I'm not sure. I just want to nose around.”
“ But Alex, we did that when the body was still warm, remember? And we found nothing useful. Like you said, not so much as a photograph, not even of himself in drag.”
“ And didn't that strike you as strange?”
“ Strange? What's strange among all these weirdos, Alex? Give it a break… strange… where the hell've you been?”
“ Dammit, it was like someone had gotten there ahead of us and cleaned the place out. No paper, no bills, no laundry lists, no goddamned letters, nothing.”
“ Even if that was true, going back now… I mean it's not like we overlooked anything, partner.”
“ But we did. We overlooked the emptiness of the damned place.”
“ Did you look around Sue Socks' place, Alex? Listen to yourself. These people got no family albums, pal.”
Alex turned back to that moment in time when Surette's apartment would have been vulnerable to someone scavenging it. He'd remained a long time with the body out in the woods because Frank Wardlaw was dragging his butt. By the time Wardlaw had officially I.D.'d the body and it had gotten out over the wires, Ben had gone to Surette's place ahead of Alex, and when Alex arrived, Ben had told him how pathetically empty the place was, showing him the barren fridge and vacant bookshelves. The only thing remaining of Surette was his elaborate wardrobe, a collection of pumps and other shoes, handbags and the like-and except for cosmetics, even these were empty.
Alex wanted to return to the Surette apartment tonight, perhaps foolishly, just to snoop around for anything that might have fallen through the cracks, particularly anything in the realm of paper. Paper couldn't be gotten with a search warrant, however; there was no probable cause to serve the new tenant or tenants with one. Still, he couldn't convince Ben that it was necessary that they go back to Surette's place tonight, and Ben won the argument.
Later, near midnight, sleep was finally shutting down the feverish activity of puzzle pieces which only gave the illusion of fitting into place, and Alex's body screamed for an end to the internal war. He gave in, and was sleeping deeply when he was rudely startled awake by the ringing, insistent telephone, which he knocked to the floor. Picking up the receiver, he heard an excited female voice.
“ Alex, Alex… it's me… it'„s me, Kim, Kim Desinor.”
“ Oh, yeah, Doctor… what the hell time is it?” He yawned unceremoniously. “What can I do you for?”
“ I need your help.”
