Heaven's Prisoners Page #5

two guys did to you and me...

and when I do, you're not going

to be welcome in New Orleans.

You understand me?

I got your plane ticket

for you right here...

and I got two hundred dollars

for you.

Wow.

Just like the old Streak...

riding in on a white horse

to save little Robin again.

Should've been

a priest or something.

My friend's name and number

is right there on the envelope.

There you go.

Hey.

Would you stay

just a minute, please?

I promise I'll get on the plane.

Just...

sit me... sit with me

just for a minute.

- Where's Jerry at?

- He's upstairs in the office.

God damn!

- Jesus Christ!

- Tell me... how much you make...

for dropping that dime

on Robin and me?

What? I didn't get nothing!

What the f*** you talking about?

Stay down, Jerry. You look

real good with the carpet.

You're a f***ing psycho.

A guy with the initials

E.L.K. came to see me.

You know who that might be?

He's a f***ing hit man.

He'll kill me.

He gonna have to get in line,

partner.

Eddie Keats!

That must be who they sent.

Who's they?

Look, everybody does it.

You hear something

about Bubba Rocque...

or one of his people

talking about him...

or somebody

getting out of line...

you call up his club about it,

you get a hundred bucks.

It don't even have

to be important.

I'm going to have a little talk

with Bubba Rocque, brother.

If I were you,

I'd find another zip code.

- Dave Robicheaux.

- Hey, Bubba.

I got your dreamsicle,

hangin' down low.

What's that bull...

what is that bullshit?

Hitting me in the head

without a mouthpiece?

You lucky, man. You are lucky.

What are you drinking, Dave?

Nothing for me right now,

thanks.

That's right. I heard you were

fighting the hooch for a while.

- You winning?

- Yeah.

Good for you. I got some tea.

Here. Use the coaster for me,

all right?

Clarence.

Mm-hmm! Beautiful.

Thank you, Clarence.

Hey, Bubba,

I got a little problem...

I thought you might be able

to help me out with.

Name it.

A Haitian guy named Toot...

somebody named Eddie Keats

came to see me.

They left me with a couple

of stitches in my head.

Bartender at Smiling Jack's

said he sicked them on me...

by calling one of your clubs.

They also hurt

a friend of mine...

and I wanted to take care of it.

- Is that why you're here?

- Yeah.

What's the name of this

motor-mouth at Smiling Jack's?

I already had a talk with him.

Look, Dave, I know Eddie Keats.

He does not work for me.

And from what I hear...

he don't put stitches in

people's heads, he smokes them.

And this boy Toot,

he's some kind of psycho Zulu...

likes to torture people,

take pictures of it.

Forget these clowns. Good

for nothing. Eat some shrimp.

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