Robicheaux (Dave Robicheaux 21)

“What you’re really saying is somehow he’s connected to the murder of T. J. Dartez. That’s what you want to believe, isn’t it?”

“If you bruise Tony’s ego, he never forgets.”

“Do what you need to,” she said. “Watch your ass. Tony Nemo is a cruel man.”

“Does Spade Labiche have any reason for being around Kevin Penny?”

“Not to my knowledge. You know something I don’t?”

I told her how Babette Latiolais had tried to return Labiche’s lighter to him in the parking lot outside the bar-and-grill and had seen Penny talking with Labiche.

“Did you bring this up with Labiche?” Helen said.

“He denies knowing Penny or having any connection with him.”

“Did you tell him the barmaid informed on him?”

“She had already called Labiche. She knows him from the bar-and-grill. I was trying to put out the fire and indicate to Labiche that the girl wasn’t conspiring against him.”

“Take a breath.”

“It’s frustrating, Helen. This guy is a son of a bitch, and you’re pretending he’s not.”

“I’ll have a talk with him.” She got up from her desk and bit a hangnail, avoiding my eyes. “I’m worried about where the Dartez investigation is going. Your prints were on the broken window glass. How do you explain that?”

“I can’t.”

She cleared her throat. “This is eating a hole in my stomach.”

“Then turn everything over to the prosecutor’s office. I’ll go on leave without pay or resign.”

She looked sideways at me, her face so hot it was almost glowing. “The case isn’t prosecutable. Not as it stands. A defense attorney would keep you off the stand and present a dozen ways the prints could have gotten on the glass. That makes me glad. It also puts me in conflict with myself. You’re not the only person twisting in the wind, Pops.”

“I’m sorry you’re caught in this.”

“There may be another explanation about the prints,” she said. “Latents can be transferred. A microscopic examination can detect a forgery, but not always.”

“Labiche is manufacturing evidence?”

“He’s a mixed bag,” she replied. “He’s too nice around me. Always with the grin.”

“I’d better get going. I’ll be back this afternoon.”

“Keep Clete out of this. No more Wild West antics at the O.K. Corral.”

“You have to admit Doc and Wyatt had clarity of line.”

“White man who think with forked brain not speak anymore. White man keep nose clean and not smart off unless white man want slap upside head. White man now get his ass out of my office.”

She wiggled her fingers at me.

* * *

I HADN’T THOUGHT about the possibilities with Clete. After I signed out the cruiser, I stopped in the shade by the grotto and called his office on my cell. “Want to take a ride to the Big Sleazy?”

“What for?”

“To share a few oysters with Tony Squid.”