the powers that be are aware that the homicide division couldn?t find their collective asses if they

were all farting „Dixie? in harmony.”

“Did Stick talk to you about the information we need?”

“Yes,” he said. “I?ll start on it this afternoon. I just wanted to make sure everything was A-one with

Dutch.”

“He just wants me to stop fucking up his schedule,” I said, laughing.

“He?s been days behind on the bloody schedule since the first week we started,” Charlie One Ear said

with a grin.

“I think he just needed to blow off a little steam,” I answered.

“By the way, just so you?ll know. Cowboy may seem a bit dense at times, but he?s really quite bright.

He?s on about a ten-second flash-to-bang delay.”

“Okay,” I said. “Has he always been like that?”

Charlie One Ear shook his head. “He got the back of his head blown off in Vietnam. There?s a steel

plate in there. That?s why he wears that ridiculous baseball cap. It covers up the bald spot.”

I didn?t know how to respond to that. What do you say? Gee, that?s tough? Everybody knows it?s

tough.

“Actually I mentioned that because Cowboy was a sheriff in Waco, Texas, before he went off to war.

When he came back nobody would hire him. Dutch found him working on the docks in New

Orleans.”

“Thanks, Charlie, I?m glad to know that.”

“I?m sure he?ll have that list up for you by tomorrow, even if he has to work on it all night.”

“Tell him I said thanks,” I said.

“Tell him yourself” said Charlie One Ear. “I?m off for the hall of records.”

Cowboy Lewis was right where I left him, labouring over his errant notebook.

“Cowboy, don?t kill yourself on that, okay?”

“Tomorrow,” he said, shoving the baseball cap back on his head. “I got to tail that Logeto tonight but

I?ll have it tomorrow.”

“Thanks.”

“By the way, Zapata said to tell you be went out to find that creep that shot you.”

“His name?s Turk Nance,” 1 said.

“Turk Nance, right.” He smiled. “Zapata?ll find him, you can put that in the bank.”

“I?ll thank him when I see him,” I said.

“I think I?m going to have to take writing lessons,” he said as I was leaving. “I can?t read my own

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