Burning Angel (Dave Robicheaux 8)

”How you doin', fellas?“ Johnny Carp said, and sat down.

”What's the haps, John?“ I said.

He picked up a stuffed mushroom with his fingers and plopped it in his mouth, his eyes smiling at me while he chewed.

”He asks me what's the haps,“ he said. ”Dave, I love you, you fucking wild man.“

”Glad you could make it, Johnny,“ Clete said.

”I love to fish,“ he said. ”It don't matter redfish, gaff top specs, white trout, it's the fresh air, the waves flopping against the boat, Dave, you're a fucking zonk, we ain't living in the days of the O.K.

Corral no more, know what I'm saying?“

”I don't know what to tell you, Johnny,“ I said.

”Hey, Clete, get us some drinks over here, some snapper fingers, some oysters on the half shell, make sure they're fresh, I got to talk to this crazy guy,“ Johnny said.

”I don't think you do, John,“ I said.

”What's he saying, Clete?“

”Streak doesn't like to bother people with his trouble, that's all, Johnny.“

”His trouble's my trouble. So let's work it out. I got a guy out in the car gonna have to have plastic surgery over in Houston. This is a guy nobody needs to have pissed off at him. I'm talking about a face looks like a basketball with stitches all over it. This guy couldn't get laid down at the Braille school. This ain't something you just blow out your ass because you happen to be a cop, Dave.“

”You're a generous man with your time, Johnny,“ I said. ”But I didn't ask for a sit-down.“

”What, I'm here to play with my dick under the table?“

A family sitting close to us got up and left.

”Your man went across the line,“ I said.

”I think we got a problem with pride here, Dave. It ain't good.“

”There're cops in New Orleans who would have blown out his candle, Johnny,“ I said.

”You ain't in New Orleans. You degraded the man. He works for me. I got to square it, I'm being up-front here.“

”I don't think you're hearing me. I was off my turf. So your man's not down on an assault charge. End of subject, Johnny,“ I said.

”You're burning up a lot of goodwill, Dave. That's the oil makes all the wheels turn. You're educated, I ain't got to tell you that,“

Johnny said. ”The guy I got out in the car never had your advantages, he don't operate on goodwill, he operates out of respect for me. I don't honor that respect, then I don't get it from nobody else, either.“

”What do you think you're going to get here today?“ I asked.

”I got an envelope with ten large in it. You give it to the guy for his hospital bill, just say you got no hard feelings. You ain't even got to say you're sorry. The money don't matter 'cause I'm paying his hospital bill anyway and he'll have to give me the ten back. So everybody wins, everybody feels better, and we don't have no problems later.“

”Are you serious?“ I said.

”I throw a net over a guy makes some people wake up with cold sweats, pump him full of Demerol so he don't kick out my fucking windows, just so I can get him off your back, you have the fucking nerve to ask me if I'm serious?“

He took a comb out of his shirt pocket and ran it through his hair, touching the waves with his fingers simultaneously, his knurled forehead furrowing as his eyes bored into my face. The teeth of his comb were bright with oil.

11 o ”Come on, Johnny, Dave's not trying to dis anybody. The situation just got out of control. It happens.“

”He's not trying to whafi“ Johnny said.