"No, it was Clete. He knows a guy who might give me a good deal on a boat."
"I feel a lot better after a shower." He stopped combing his hair. "Hey, tell me straight about something. Down there in the shelter, you weren't just playing with my head? I mean… we're not talking about a loss of respect here?"
"No."
"Because I don't push myself on people."
"You didn't push yourself on me."
"You wanted to know what happened, I told you."
I nodded without replying.
"But if a guy thinks less of me because of it, I don't hold it against him. We're clear on this?" he said.
"You're not the only guy who brought back a problem from there, Tony. I've got my own. Maybe they're worse than yours."
"Yeah?"
"I got four of my men killed on a trail because I did something reckless and stupid. Everybody has his own basket of snakes to deal with."
"Your voice has a little edge to it, Dave."
"I think pride's a pile of shit."
He laughed. "You sure don't hide your thoughts, do you?" he said. "How about bringing Bootsie out here for supper, then we'll all go to a movie."
"It's kind of a private evening, Tony."
"Paul was looking forward to it."
"Then you should have told me earlier, podna,"
He nodded silently, then began dressing in front of a full-length mirror as though I were not there.
I didn't have time to worry any more about Tony's mood changes and his addict's propensity for trying to control everyone and everything in his environment. In fact, maybe we were too much alike in that regard, and for that reason I not only got along better with him than I should have as a policeman, I also saw my own menagerie of snapping dogs at work inside him. When I got to Clete's Club, Nate Baxter was by himself at the far end of the bar, one shined brown loafer propped on the brass footrail. He wore sharply creased tan slacks, an open-necked yellow shirt, and a herringbone sports coat. His gold watch and gold identification bracelet gleamed softly in the light.
"You're looking sharp, Nate," I said.
He tipped his cigarette ashes neatly into an ashtray and took a sip from his highball glass, his eyes looking at me in the bar mirror.
"You know a DEA agent by the name of Minos Dautrieve?" he asked.
"He's out of Lafayette. Yeah, I know him."
"He's in New Orleans now. He's running a sting."
"Why tell the family secrets to me?"
"I underestimated you," he said.
"I have to be somewhere in a few minutes. What did you want to say to me, Nate?"
"She's my snitch. You shouldn't have messed with her."
"What are we talking about here?"
"You know what I'm talking about. You were in her place out in Metairie. You got her stashed. But it's not going to do you any good. She's our witness, and she's going to testify for us. You can tell that to Dautrieve for me if you want to."