Pegasus Descending (Dave Robicheaux 15)

“It’s Lydia Thibodaux, Tony’s friend.”

“How are you?” I said, straightening up in my chair.

“You questioned me the night Tony died. I told you things—” She stopped and started over. “Dr. Edwards is my academic adviser at UL. He was kind of like a friend to Tony. Slim was in one of his classes, too. I told him the truth about what happened. He said I needed to talk with you and straighten everything out. A lot of people say Dr. Edwards is gay, but I don’t care. What does it matter if he’s gay?”

I couldn’t follow her. “Straighten out what?”

“I told you I wasn’t sure it was Monarch who called up and asked Tony to meet him. That wasn’t true. I know Monarch’s voice. I bought some weed from him. More than once.”

“Can you come to my office?”

For a moment I thought the line had gone dead. Don’t lose her, I told myself. “It’s all right. We’ll talk on the phone. I appreciate your cooperating with us. You’re sure it was Monarch Little?” I said.

“As sure as you can be just by listening to somebody over the phone. How many people lisp like that? He sounds like he has wires all over his teeth.”

“What else did you want to straighten out, Lydia?”

“Sir?”

“You said there were ‘things’ you told me that were not correct. You used the plural.”

“Maybe Slim was with Tony.”

“Say that again.”

“Before Tony left to meet Monarch, I told him it was crazy to go meet a drug dealer when he was already in so much trouble. Tony said he’d be all right because Slim would go with him. He said, ‘Slim can handle the action. Monarch already learned he’d—’”

“Say it, Lydia.”

“He said, ‘Monarch already learned he’d better not fuck with Slim.’ Tony always looked up to Slim. It never made sense to me. Slim is no good.”

“What do you base that on?”

“He’s mean. His fraternity brothers act like he’s their friend, but the truth is they’re afraid of him. I told Dr. Edwards that. I mean, I told him Slim scared me.”

I was writing on a yellow legal pad while she talked. “What did Dr. Edwards have to say about that?”

“He said Tony and Slim both wore masks. He said not to be afraid of someone who can’t live with the person who’s inside his skin. He said it was too bad Tony couldn’t have learned that lesson. I don’t know what he meant. What do you think he meant?”

“I’m not sure. Was Tony maybe unusual or different in some way?” I asked, wondering if I was now pushing the envelope.

“Sir?”

“Let me meet you someplace.”

“I have to go to work now. I’m helping my father at the restaurant.”

“Your father runs the restaurant at the new casino?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Nothing,” I said.

“I was just trying to undo a lie I told you. Now you’re trying to make me say bad things about Tony. Monarch Little killed him, didn’t he? Why are you protecting a piece of scum like that? I wish I hadn’t called you, Mr. Robicheaux. You’re on the side of black people. It’s always like this. They do whatever they want.”

I started to reply, but she broke the connection.

Had I been completely wrong? Did Monarch do it after all? Was my enmity toward Lonnie Marceaux so extreme that I would take up the cause of a dope dealer who had set up and murdered a hapless college kid whose father had already psychologically damaged him beyond repair? Was I one of those who always saw a person of color as a victim of social injustice?