“Okay, the Axeman then and now is a big guy, on the taller side of average, and he runs around the city in a long dark coat and slouch hat,” Katie said. She shook her head. “We don’t know! Mona might have thought the man was taller than he was. And—”
“There’s still possibly more than one person involved in this,” Dan said. “Six if Nathan Lawrence was telling the truth. They were short one person, and for some reason they thought he might be the right guy to fill their ranks. Maybe because he has family money but is in truth a mild-mannered teacher who is so gullible he’s unaware his wife is out to get him. Either that, or he’s a damned good liar, and he’s laughing his ass off at us right now, or hurrying to tell his god or demon or leader that we fell for everything that he said.”
“There’s someone calling the shots. The others adhere to him. Nathan Lawrence may be hapless and innocent, which means someone else was contacted after him,” Axel said. He glanced over at Katie, in the passenger’s seat next to him. “We got a social website from him. We’re trolling it, trying to see if we get a bite.”
Katie nodded. “So now...” she mused.
“Axel is taking us to George’s hotel on Canal. Easy walking distance to my house. We’ll see George and then get my car for anything else we’re going to try to accomplish today.”
Axel dropped them off. “I’m on to see the fortune-teller who works the square and who is certain that the number six is coming and we all need to repent. I’ll let you know if it’s anything or if we should see her together,” he added to Dan.
Dan nodded. They headed into the hotel. It was a nice place. Katie had always liked it; though, if she knew people were coming for something other than a convention, she liked to suggest the independent NOLA hotels. They tended to be historic, charming and unique.
But George’s choice of hotel on Canal had been a good one: a large lobby offered plenty of room for people to sit and chat, and the nearby bar and coffee corner allowed for either libation that might be the right thing. She headed to a housephone to let George know they were there. He asked if they wanted to head up or him to come down. Then he suggested the restaurant in the hotel; he didn’t want to go out.
He’d come to feel safe there.
They met him in the restaurant. Katie wasn’t hungry. She was pretty sure she’d eaten quite enough at Coffee Science, but she decided to pick at an appetizer to share with Dan.
George ordered a hearty late lunch/early dinner, and when their waiter had gone to put in their orders, he leaned low and asked anxiously, “Have we learned anything?”
“Maybe.”
“There was an exodus out of the hotel this morning. Lots of people are leaving the city,” George said.
“And many will stay...and/or hurry back,” Katie said.
“You knew Lou Delaney and his wife—and Katie—for years, right?” Dan asked.
“I met Katie’s parents when they moved to Florida, before Katie was born. We all...well, we all loved a lot of the same things. I was in the navy, too, way back. Not career, but I did my time. We loved boats, diving...all kinds of things about the water. And then, of course, sun and sand. Resting under swaying palms while the water lapped on the shore. That kind of thing. Even the study of sharks,” George said. He winced. “We actually met in a chat room—old navy guys—before we met in person. Why?”
“Did Lou talk to you about the time he came up here to help Jeremy after the storm?”
“Ah, yes. Of course. He couldn’t wait to help. He wanted to see Jeremy, he wanted to be here. First, lives were at stake, and the country was kind of a mess over it. You know, everyone had thought New Orleans had dodged the worst bullet the storm could bring, but then the levees broke all over the place, and it was a true disaster. He was anxious to do something. When he came home, he was both pleased and disheartened. He told me most of the time, people were decent. Damned decent. He saw young, healthy people sharing water and whatever they had with children and the elderly. He saw people risking their lives to save others. And then he saw looting and those who were greedy. But for the most part, he was encouraged. Most people, he truly believed after the experience, were good people. Decent. Willing to help others. Then, of course, there were those who were the opposite. And there was one guy he struck right in the face, some guy with a bunch of thugs in the streets. They weren’t just looting, they knocked over an old man to take something that he was eating. You didn’t do a thing like that in front of Lou.”
“Did he mention a particular event, George? Or a particular person?”
George was thoughtful. “Just what I was telling you about—they were near Esplanade but in the French Quarter. People could walk in the streets, but businesses were down. An invitation to lowlifes, I guess. He was furious to see an old man knocked down. And he socked someone in the jaw.”
Katie looked at Dan. “That sounds like my dad. This is like what Jeremy told us...”
“I wasn’t in NOLA then,” George reminded them. “I only know what he told me, but...”
“What?” Dan asked as George’s voice trailed.
“He said something about it being a small group of horrible people. He and Jeremy wound up getting the cops. I don’t know if they got them at all because your dad and Jeremy reported them and moved on. But he said the man he punched had taken a few wild slams at him first, and he was disgusted because there was a big
