A Private Cathedral (Dave Robicheaux 23)

“She’ll be here soon,” Penelope said.

“Good. We’ll wait,” Clete said.

“Did y’all see the galleon?” I asked.

“What?” Shondell said.

“I just saw Gideon’s galleon,” I said. I pointed at the window. “Take a look. To the southeast, perhaps fifty yards from where we’re standing.”

Shondell walked to the window. “The wind and the waves have played a trick on you.”

“Dave?” Carroll said behind me.

I did not want to hear any more from Carroll LeBlanc. “What is it?”

“I’ve really messed up.”

“In what way?” I said.

He looked deathly ill. “I didn’t pass on some information I got from Helen.”

“What information?”

“Somebody scooped up Father Julian from the hospital,” he said.

I turned around. “Say that again?”

“People went into Iberia General and grabbed him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because he’s on a pad,” Clete said.

“Dave, I’ve been trying to tell you,” Carroll said. “My daughter was gonna be on the street. I didn’t know Shondell was gonna do all this.”

“You didn’t have

a clue, huh?” I said.

“You wouldn’t listen to anyone, Dave,” Adonis said. “You were too busy bedding my wife.”

Clete stuck his finger in Adonis’s face. “You open your mouth one more time, and I’ll paste you all over this room.”

“Apparently, we have a little problem,” Shondell said. “Mr. Bell, would you step out here, please?”

A large man in a fedora and a rumpled suit came out of the kitchen. He had a dissolute, fleshy face, small eyes, and bad teeth. He was holding a pistol-grip AK-47 with a thirty-round banana magazine. He grinned, exposing the gaps in his teeth. “Put your hands on your heads or we’ll have a great deal of mop-and-bucket work to do.”

“Dave, this is the cocksucker who sapped me in Key West,” Clete said.

“Pleased to meet you,” Bell said.

“Take their weapons, Adonis,” Shondell said.

Adonis didn’t move. “Did you hear me?” Shondell said to him.

“You don’t take out cops,” Adonis said.

“Do you want to see black or white sails tonight?” Shondell said.