Pat nodded grimly."You're probably right."
Burke stared down into Mac's death mask and thought about the young man's annoying habits but undeniable charm, thought about his pretty young wife, thought about the waste of it all. It made him want to hit something very hard.
He asked Pat, "How'd you know Mac was coming here this morning?"
"We've been closing in on him, watching his every move. We recently learned he was in debt to a loan shark named Del Ray Jones."
"I know who he is."
"When Del Ray took Mac to a meeting with Duvall night before last, it was easy to deduce what was going on."
Burke came to his feet."That's pretty flimsy evidence, Doug. How do you know Mac wasn't coming here to warn me, or to deliver a message from Duvall? That's what he told me he was doing."
"He was going for his gun, remember? Would you have rather I waited to see if he shot you first?"
Burke conceded the point.
"Anyhow," Pat continued, "I knew what Mac had been sent out here to do,
because I spoke to Duvall. I called him this morning and told him that Mac was blown. Using that cryptic lawyer language that's inadmissible in court, he implied what Mac's errand would accomplish.
Then he boasted that whether Mac got you or not, he had a backup plan."
"He was bluffing. I spoke to him this morning myself. He's still hungry for a taste of me. Whenever he comes, whatever form his backup plan takes, I'll be ready for him."
"Jesus, will you listen to yourself?" Pat shouted."You and Duvall are in a pissing contest like a couple of junior-high boys. Wake up, Burke, and put this thing into perspective. One man's already dead over this mess, and I take that hard because I had to kill him.
Whether he was dirty or not, Mac was one of my own men." Changing tones, he said, "I'm begging you to give this up. Now.
You've got who you were ultimately after, and that's the cop that got Kev killed. So let's pick up Mrs. Duvall, wherever you're keeping her, and see her safely home."
"Not until I see the whites of Duvall's eyes."
"Okay, say you succeed in killing Duvall and Bardo, but you wind up in prison on death row. Who have you spited?"
"I'm not taking her back."
"Worst-case scenario. What if Duvall survives and you go to prison?
Do you think he'll let it drop? Never. He'll hurt you any way he can.
Remember Sachel and his son? Duvall is ruthless. What's to keep him from turning Nancy Stuart over to Bardo? He'll use the people you care for to torture you. I've met your brother. He's a nice guy. You won't be able to protect them, Burke. Not from a cell in Angola."
"All the more reason for me to make sure that neither one survives."
"Dammit, Burke, listen to me."
"No, you listen to me," Burke shouted back."I started this and I'm going to finish it."
"I'll arrest you."
"For what?"
"Kidnapping."
"Have I written a ransom note? What evidence do you have that I took Mrs. Duvall by force? Maybe she and I cooked this up together so she could escape that tyrannical son of a bitch."
Pat shot him a retiring look."It's not too late to turn this thing around. Duvall approached me shortly after the abduction and warned me then that he was going to kill you. If you persist, you'll be on your own. But if you come in with me now, you'll have the protection of the department behind you."
"No thanks. The department " Before he could react, Pat's pistol was coming down hard on his temple. He staggered toward the door, pyrotechnics exploding behind his eyes. The pier beyond the screened door seemed to stretch for miles, as though he were looking at it through reversed binoculars. The tunnel of vision continued to shrink as blackness closed in around it. Then it disappeared altogether.
His last conscious thought was of Remy. She was alone, waiting for his return.
Burke came awake to the sound of voices, although the words were indecipherable. Total awareness was slow in coming, but gradually he discerned that he was indoors, lying on his side, that his hands were shackled behind him, and that he had a bitch of a headache.
Wherever he was, there was a lot of activity going on beyond the walls.
He didn't actually see the emergency vehicle lights, but he felt their pulsing against his closed eyelids. Until he knew more, he decided to keep his eyes shut and pretend to be unconscious.
One of the voices finally distinguished itself.
Dredd was saying, "Been like Grand Central Station out here today," he remarked grumpily."With all the coming and going, the fish won't bite for a week."
"Like who?" Doug Pat asked.
"Like who what?"
Even though he was still half-addled, Burke realized that Dredd was playing dumb. He wondered if Pat was aware of it.
"Who was out here today coming and going?" Pat asked.
"Oh, well, to start, two guys came by this morning, asking for "What two guys?"
"Didn't know them, but I'll tell you this, I don't care if they ever come back. They were bad news."
"How do you know? What did they do?"
"Nothing in particular. It was just a feeling I got, you know?
It's been years since I was a cop, Pat, but the instinct hasn't left me."
Burke sensed that Dredd was pausing to take a draw off his cigarette.
"They were dressed like fishermen, but if those two ever caught a fish in their lives, I'll eat those gators over there."
"You did eat those gators over there."
Dredd chuckled."Right you are, Pat, but you know what I mean.
Anyhow, I rang up their six-packs of Bud in a hurry, and was glad to see the last of them."
"What'd you tell them about Burke?"
"There wasn't any more to tell them than what I've told you. Burke was by here several days ago."
"What day?"
"Can't recall exactly. I don't pay much attention to the calendar anymore, although I did notice that tomorrow's Mardi Gras. Guess the city's gearing up to "
"About Burke ..."
"Oh, right. Basile shot the breeze with me for a time, but he isn't what you'd call talkative, you know. He bought a few things, then was off."
"And the woman was with him?"
"Woman is an understatement. Whooee!" In an undertone, Dredd added, "I jerked off twice after they left. Who'd you say she is?"
Pat gave him the capsulated facts, which, of course, Dredd already knew. When Pat finished, Dredd said, "Hmm. I'd never have figured her for Basile's hostage. Didn't look to me like he was forcing her into anything. She got right into the car with him."
"They left here by car?"
Dredd launched into an elaborate lie about the make, color, and model of the nonexistent car. If the circumstances hadn't been so grave, Burke would have laughed out loud."Since you can't see the main road from here, I don't know which way they headed." Pat asked if there had been another man with them, possibly a priest. Dredd laughed and said no, that he avoided contact with clergymen, and Basile didn't strike him as a religious sort either.
After a pause, he added, "I can't figure Basile for a kidnapper."
"Nor can I, but it appears he is."
"Tell me again, Pat, who's this fellow you popped?"
"Detective Sergeant Mac Mccuen."
"One of your own."
"Yeah," Pat said bitterly."He made a deal with Pinkie Duvall to return with Burke and his wife. I followed Mac out here, and it's a good thing I did. He was sent to assassinate Burke." He briefed Dredd on Mac's dirty dealings within the department.
"You ever killed a man before, Pat?"
"Once. In the line of duty. It's not something you get over easily."
"Guess it all depends on how bad the guy needs killing," the retired policeman said. Burke could imagine him raising one of his sunburned shoulders in a shrug."You rid the department of a real dirty cop, this Mccuen. Sounds to me like you saved everybody a lot of time and trouble."
"I hate it that anybody had to die. All along I hoped to end this thing peaceably. At least I spared Basile from making a mistake that he would be paying for the rest of his life. Whether he thinks so or not, I've done him a favor."
Dredd snorted his skepticism."Somehow I doubt he'll look upon being knocked out and handcuffed as a favor. You'll have your hands full when he wakes up."
"He's going to be pissed," Pat agreed, "but what I did, I did for his own good. Damn his stubborn hide." Then he said, "There's the ambulance."
Burke heard chairs scraping backward, the sound of shuffling feet.
"I'd better go supervise the transport of Mac's body and clear up the paperwork with the parish officials. Soon as I get the ambulance underway, I'll come back for Basile."
"What about Duvall's wife?"
"That's the first thing I'm going to ask Basile about when he comes around. The lady must be taken home immediately."
Burke waited until Pat's footsteps could no longer be heard then opened his eyes. As he'd already guessed, he confirmed that he was lying on a sofa in Dredd's main room.
"How long you been awake?" Dredd asked in a whisper. He wasn't facing Burke at all, but was standing at a window, calmly smoking, and watching the commotion outside through the cloudy glass. Burke wondered, not for the first time, if the traiteur was indeed a warlock with supernatural powers. Beyond his healing abilities, did he have eyes in the back of his head?
"Long enough to overhear Pat's recap of the situation."
"Was it like he said?"
"Exactly. I reached the cabin a few minutes before Mccuen got there and hid my boat in the saw grass. When he and I came face to face, he admitted to striking a deal with Duvall. He thought we could negotiate with him and work it all out."
"Fuck that."
"My reaction exactly. Mac's future was at stake, so he wouldn't take my no for an answer. He went for his gun. Pat had him under surveillance and had followed him there. He must have had a bead on him.
The bullet went straight through his back to his heart. Now Pat's hell-bent on playing the rest out by the book."
"He's only half your problem. Duvall is pulling out all the stops.
He's after you, son."
While appearing to do nothing except watch the loading of Mac's body into the ambulance, Dredd told Burke about Gregory's coming to the store and warning him of the gunmen who'd accompanied him.
"So what you told Pat about the two phony fishermen was true."
"Most of it," Dredd said."They were here, but they didn't leave."
The words had an ominous ring that halted any further questioning.
Burke thought he was better off not knowing the fate of the two men.
"What about Gregory?"
"There's hope for the boy. He could've screwed us over good, but he came through. I told him to hightail it, and he took my advice."
"Good." He pulled against the handcuffs."Get me out of these damn things."
Dredd turned away from the window."The body is loaded and Pat is conferring with the sheriff. We've got maybe ninety seconds to get you away from here."
"Where's my gun?"
"Pat's got it. But you can borrow one of mine."
Dredd took a Magnum.357 from a drawer, checked to see that all the chambers were loaded, scooped up a box of bullets, then assisted Burke to his feet. His legs were wobbly and his head felt like a watermelon precariously balanced on his shoulders as he followed Dredd through the misshapen assortment of rooms and out a back door.
In a toolshed, which seemed to contain every implement invented since the Iron Age, Dredd located a pair of bolt cutters and snipped off the handcuffs. He gave Burke the pistol and the bullets, then pulled a boat from beneath the pier.
"You're using up my boats like a horny kid with a box of rubbers.
At the rate you're disposing of them, I'll soon be out of business."
"I'll make it up to you, Dredd."
"Yeah, yeah, just try and not get yourself killed before you do.
The boat's gassed up, but don't start the motor until you've gone at least half a mile. You up to rowing that far?"
"I've got no choice. Remy's out there alone."
"Basile? You like that girl?" The two men exchanged a long look, but all Burke said was, "Thanks again, Dredd."
"Don't mention it. Good luck and ... oh, shit. I hate this part."
Burke slammed his fist into Dredd's chin, and even his bushy beard couldn't cushion the blow. Then as he fell backward, Burke clouted him once more on the side of the head, regrettably having to make it look like he'd overpowered him. However, he didn't hit him hard enough to cause the older man too much residual pain.
Then he jumped into the boat and pushed away from the pier.
As he reached for the oar, a shout went up and he heard running footsteps.
To hell with rowing, he started the outboard and gunned it.
As early as noon, Remy began watching for him. She had even held off eating lunch in anticipation of his being hungry when he got back and of them eating together. But noon came and went with no sign of him.
During the long afternoon, she ventured outside and tried to enjoy the first sunny day she had experienced in the swamp, but she couldn't totally relax and take in its exotic beauty because her mind was preoccupied with Basile and what could be keeping him away so long.
Sunset increased her anxiety. Like a sentinel at his post, she paced every inch of the pier. She listened to catch the sound of the trolling motor above night sounds of the swamp, which originally had frightened her, but which she now found familiar and somewhat comforting.
When dusk gave way to night, she went back inside. For added safety, she didn't light the lantern, so her vigil was continued in complete darkness. She hadn't eaten since breakfast, but she wasn't hungry.
What had happened when Basile returned to Dredd's Mercantile?
What if, somewhere along the way, he'd been ambushed by the three men who'd come to the shack last night, ostensibly searching for Father Gregory?
What if Pinkie had men waiting to attack him when he returned to Dredd's?
What if he and Dredd had been killed and no one knew where she was?
The grim possibilities marched relentlessly through her mind. Finally exhaustion forced her to lie down and close her eyes. In her turbulent state of mind, she had thought sleep was impossible, so when she was abruptly awakened, her first reaction was surprise that she'd fallen asleep Her second reaction was to wonder what had awakened her. As when she had been awakened by Angel and one of her countless men, Remy lay perfectly still, heart pounding.
What had startled her out of sleep? A sound? A menacing movement in the darkness? A premonition of danger?
She strained to hear a sound, but there was nothing. Had she been awakened by the vibration of a boat bumping into one of the pilings supporting the pier?
Was she just going to lie here and pretend to be invisible as she had in her corner of Angel's sordid world? She was no longer a child.
She had declared to Basile that she would never be a victim again.
What or who could be more threatening than the man she'd lived with for twelve years? She had withstood Pinkie's cruel psychological abuse, she could withstand anything.
Slipping out of bed, she crept across the room and located a kitchen knife. It was dull, but it was the closest thing she had to a weapon since Basile had taken his pistol. As an afterthought, she also grabbed the lantern and a matchbook, then she moved to the nearest window and peeped out.
She saw a form, nothing more than a darker shadow among shadows, tiptoeing along the pier. Once, he paused as though listening, then continued moving silently toward the shack.
Remy sank to the floor and gripped the knife. She wondered exactly how one went about using a Coleman lantern as a weapon.