“What?”
I told her what had happened at Julian’s house.
“I’m glad he helped Father Hebert, but that will not free Gideon of his burden,” she said.
“I don’t understand.”
“To reclaim his soul, he has to be forgiven by someone he has injured. Gideon has the intellect of a peasant. He’s dull-witted and heavy-handed, and he often hurts rather than helps people. That’s why he’s so dangerous. He hurt your friend Mr. Purcel. If I were you, I would be protective of my friend.”
“Are you trying to mess me up, Penelope?”
“I don’t think this conversation is serving any purpose.”
“Put Adonis on,” I said.
“I loved you,” she said. “I thought you were the one.”
She hung up slowly, so the receiver would rattle in the phone cradle.
* * *
CLETE CALLED ME on my cell that night. I had just spread newspaper on the floor and fed my cats and my pet raccoon Tripod. One of the cats believed Tripod was hogging the food and bit him in the tail. “Where are you?” I said to Clete, trying to distribute a can of sardines with one hand.
“In Texas. My receptionist says you were looking for me.”
“Big surprise?”
“Johnny and Isolde might have gotten abducted in Nashville. I think I got a lead on them.”
“Did you finally embalm your brain?”
“Do you want to know what I found out about Johnny and Isolde or not?”
“No, I don’t. You shot off an El Salvadoran general’s finger. You just missed blowing one of Mark Shondell’s kidneys out of his side.”
“Says who?”
“There’s only one person I know who’s that crazy.”
“Gee, I’m really story to hear that a pair of great guys like Shondell and the greaser had their breakfast disturbed,” he said.
“I didn’t say it happened at breakfast.”
He didn’t reply.
“I talked with Penelope Balangie today,” I said. “Gideon Richetti can’t redeem himself until he’s forgiven by someone he has hurt. She thinks he may unintentionally do harm to you.”
“You called Penelope Balangie?”
“Yes.”
“And I’m the guy with bad judgment? Tell me who’s sticking his dork in the light socket.” He waited. “You there?”
“Yeah.”
“I can’t blame you,” he said. “That broad is every guy’s wet dream. She might even be on the square. Look, I’ve been checking out some ties Mark Shondell has in Miami and Jersey, Fat Tony Salerno’s crowd, mostly. There’s this rich-boy gutter rat that’s about to make some political moves. The gutter rat is also mixed up with the Russian mafia.”
“What’s that got to do with us?”