In the Electric Mist

My name's Dave Robicheaux.

I'm an alcoholic.

Sometimes I'm tempted

to have a drink.

But I never do.

I hope this poor girl

was dead

before he started

carving on her like that.

This poor girl didn't have

a whole lot of good luck, Dave.

In the ancient world,

people placed heavy stones

on the graves of their dead

so their souls would not wander

and afflict the living.

I always thought

this was simply the practice

of superstitious

and primitive people.

But I was about to learn

that the dead

can hover

on the edge of our vision

with the density

and luminosity of mist.

And their claim on the earth

can be as legitimate

and tenacious

as our own.

Could I see your

driver's license, please?

My what?

Driver's license.

Please take it out your billfold,

hand it to me.

Oh, yeah, sure.

Well...

I was

a little careless back there.

I'm sorry about that.

You're Elrod T. Sykes?

Yes, sir,

that's who I am.

Step out the car,

Mr. Sykes.

Yes, sir.

Anything you say, sir.

Mr. Sykes,

I think you've been drinking,

and I know you've been smoking

marijuana in your automobile.

I believe your lady friend there

just ate the roach.

Ooh, well, that wouldn't

be good now, would it?

You're under arrest for driving

while intoxicated, Mr. Sykes.

I'll take you just down the

street here to the city jail.

I'll send a car, take Ms.

Drummond wherever she's staying.

But your

little red sports car

is going to be towed

to the pound.

This is bad news.

This is not on my agenda,

'cause we're just

starting a movie.

I've always enjoyed

all your films.

Ms. Drummond's too.

Take your car keys

out the ignition please.

El, do something.

I feel real bad

about this.

Can he make a contribution

to Mothers Against Drunk Driving

or something like that?

As an admirer of your work,

Ms. Drummond,

I recommend you don't make any

more mentions of contributions.

I recommend

you stay put.

Deputy will be along here in

a few minutes to take you home.

Allons.

You're not going to get sick

in my truck, are you?

No, I'm just fine.

I know where

there's a dead body.

What?

Looks like a big pile

of gristle and bone.

Where was this?

Way the hell out

in Atchafalaya swamp.

We had to pick up a scene near

the old Indian reservation.

I went to take a leak.

I saw it sticking out

of a sandbar.

Get back in the truck.

That swamp full

of old Indian bones.

Yeah, but...

Sorry, I didn't

catch your name.

Dave Robicheaux.

Mr. Robicheaux,

now, if that was

an Indian I found,

I was wondering

what he was doing

with a chain

wrapped around him.

Say that again.

It's a rusted chain

with links

as big as my fist

crisscrossed

around his rib cage.

Can you find

that sandbar again?

Yes, sir,

I believe I could.

I'm going to make

a confession to you,

Mr. Sykes.

DWIs are a pain

in the butt.

If I take you home,

can I have your word

you'll be in my office,

And sober?

Absolutely.

Hey, I really appreciate this.

Elrod Sykes

and Kelly Drummond?

I want to go

to the set.

Sykes is a drunk.

He's huge!

His head

glows in the dark.

Maybe we could get

an autographed movie poster.

No way!

Not for you,

for the hurricane relief fund.

Okay, cool.

Please?

Will you hush?

I'll take her

and look out for her,

if that's

all right with you.

Maybe we could get Kelly

Drummond to sign one too,

pay for somebody's roof.

Please?

It's over yonder.

Hold on there,

Mr. Sykes.

Best put

some of this on.

We used to have

a lot of bats down here,

but the mosquitoes

ate 'em all.

That boy's a long way

from his Hollywood poontang,

ain't he?

This jackass

is objectifying you,

Mr. Sykes, because

he's had very little exposure

to the outside world.

Don't let it bother you.

Hurricane Betsy blowing through

here in '65 probably buried him

and Katrina unearthed him.

Why '65?

Hurricanes tear up this part

of the country all the time.

See that left shin bone?

Clipped in half.

That's where they shot him

when he tried to run away.

You a psychlc

or some bullshlt like that?

No, I saw it happen

about a mile from here.

Are you saying

that some whlte people

lynched somebody

around here?

When we get back, you're going

to have to talk to your sheriff,

get the coroner

out here now.

I don't know about y'all

over in Iberia Parish,

but around here,

ain't nobody going to be

real interested in n*gger trouble

that's 40 years old.

What are you looking for,

Mr. Robicheaux?

I don't see any remnants

of a belt on his trousers...

or any laces

in his boots.

That boy probably did his

shopping at the Goodwill.

They never found him,

didn't even look for him.

Back then, with no body,

no missing persons report,

that sheriff didn't have

any reason to believe me,

must less get off his ass

and go to work.

You're not

The trouble I have with you

is getting you away from work.

You've done everything

that you can.

You have no good reason

to beat yourself up.

Now drink your milk

and come to bed.

I'm horny.

Bootsie was right.

What was the point of reaching

into the distant past?

Just yesterday, a young girl

had been eviscerated.

We had her name now,

Cherry LeBlanc.

Mr. Trajan around?

He's over there, chere.

We've been over this already

three times now.

Cherry's been working here off

and on for the past few weeks.

She's going to show up anyway

to listen to Hogman Pitan.

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