I didn't say anything.
"Here's what you tell them," he said. "I can cover your back, I know most of the dealers on a first-name basis. I can open doors. Right now you've probably got a couple of street snitches doing your p.r."
"You don't buy my cover?"
"Are you kidding?" He started laughing.
"I thought it was pretty good."
"It is, for anybody who doesn't know you. But you're talking to ole Cletus here, so save the shuck for the lowlifes and the melt-downs. I ain't putting you on, mon, I'd love to get back in it. I'm thinking of opening up a P.I. office in the Quarter. A lot of it is running down bond jumpers and doing bullshit for attorneys, but so what? I can keep my hand in, carry a piece again, make life more interesting for some of the shit-bags."
"Call up the DEA in Lafayette. Tell them what you told me."
"Wouldn't that be something, me and you working together again? You remember when we blew up Julio Segura's shit in the back of his Caddy?"
I looked out at the sunlight under the colonnade.
"Hey, I don't feel bad about smoking a pimp and drug dealer," he said. "I think it's a mainline perk of the business. There's nothing like the smell of cordite to clear up your sinuses."
"You almost got us killed."
"Who's perfect? But let's be serious a minute, mon." He pushed at an oyster with his fork. There were deep acne scars on the back of his red neck. His big shoulders were bent, and his shirt was stretched tight across the wide expanse of his back. "I don't know what kind of info you're operating on, but this is what I hear. Cardo's out for the big score. Florida's already locked up, so is Texas. So he wants to control the Louisiana coast. He's got some nasty types working for him, too, guys who paint the ceiling when they do a job on somebody. You don't want him to think you're a competitor. Look, Dave, they say he's different from the other greaseballs. He's not predictable, he does strange stuff that nobody can figure out.
"The last time he brought his broad in here, a Marine gunnery sergeant sat on the stool next to him. Cardo says, 'Give me and the lady another Collins and give the gunny what he wants.' Then they start talking about Vietnam and Cherry Alley in Tokyo. This is in front of his broad, can you dig it? All the time I'm washing glasses about two feet away, so Cardo stops talking and says to me, 'You got a question about something?'
"'What?' I say.
"'You look like you're getting an earful. You got a question?' he says.
"'You're only in the crotch once,' I say.
"'You cracking wise or something?' he says.
"'I'm not doing anything. It's a Marine Corps expression. I was in the corps myself,' I say.
"He starts grinning and points both fingers to his chest and says, 'You think you got to tell me what it means?' and his broad starts making these clicking, no-no sounds with her mouth. 'Come on, you explaining to me what the fuck that means?' he says. 'Somebody appointed you to explain these things to other people?'
"So I said, 'No, I'm just telling you to enjoy your drink,' and I walked back to my office. It was about that time I started thinking about changing my line of work."
"Have you heard of a guy named Jimmie Lee Boggs?"
"A contract man, out of Florida?"
"That's the one."
"What about him?"
"He's the guy who put a hole in me. Somebody told me he might be back in New Orleans."
Clete smiled.
"That's the bait they used to get you into the sting, huh?" he said. "They saw you coming, Streak. That guy's long gone now."
"Maybe."
"Get me in on it, mon."
"I don't call the shots on this one, Cletus. Here's my telephone number and address. But don't give them to anyone, okay? Just keep any messages I get and I'll check back with you."