Heaven's Prisoners Page #3

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.

I hear Johnny Dartez

was working for the feds.

Did I make you nervous?

Hey, Dave, you and me,

we got history, right?

I mean, we go way back.

I know you.

Hell, you know me.

How do you think

I have this house...

and all the business I got?

'Cause I run scared

every time some no-dick...

like Minos Dautrieve

and the DEA...

with their thumb

up their ass...

selling that bullshit

they can never prove?

I don't know, Bubba.

I don't know what you think.

Maybe if a person

wants to find out...

you just got to keep f***ing

in the same direction.

You know something, partner?

That's a two-way street.

Is that right?

Dave Robicheaux.

I can see

in your baby-blue eyes...

you would just love to take me.

Please, Mr. Robicheaux, hit him.

Dave, you remember Claudette

from New lberia.

I'm a little vague on people

from back home sometimes.

A pleasure.

Well, I'll bet you remember

her mama... Patty Fontaneau.

I'll bet good cash money

you lost your cherry...

at one of her cribs

on Railroad Avenue.

Bubba, fix me a gin rickey.

Thermos in the icebox, baby.

I'd like one in a glass, please.

You know, Dave, this broad

can drink gin rickeys...

all day long and not get loaded.

I think she got a hollow heinie.

I don't think Dave

is used to our kind of talk.

He's married, too, isn't he?

Claudette, honey, come here.

Baby, I don't want to get

on your ass all the time...

but do you think it's possible

that you could put a coaster...

under this goddamn thermos

once in a while?

I got rings on the bar,

I got rings on the table.

I got rings all over

the motherfucking house.

And look... a stack of coasters.

Hey, I got to be running.

I'll see y'all later.

OK, Dave,

I'll make some phone calls.

I'll see if I can't find

this Eddie Keats.

In the meantime, anybody

gives you any problems...

I cancel their act.

Hey...

give me a hug.

Yeah.

- I'll see you later.

- Yeah.

I'll walk you out.

Eddie Keats owns a club

out on the Pearl Highway...

called the Jungle Room.

Did you like my butterfly?

I didn't notice it.

Sure, you did.

Stay here.

Can I help you?

Lovely little girl.

Go back inside, honey.

I think you better leave.

Tell your husband Victor Romero

stopped by to say hello.

- Hey, Sammy.

- What's up, pal?

Hey, how you doing there, kids?

Come here.

Come here, you little f***.

What do you think, my friend,

looking for a little taste?

- What do you think, Sammy?

- White, black, or yellow?

My good friend Robicheaux.

You miss me?

Goddamn!

You were gone a long time.

Did you take care

of everything?

I found one of those guys

that roughed me up.

Went over to his place,

had a chat with him.

What? What does that mean?

What's the matter?

- Victor Romero says hello.

- Who?

I don't know.

Some guy came by today.

- Somebody came here?

- Yeah.

Don't worry. I took care of it.

What... hey, hey, hey, hey.

Did the guy say what he wanted?

What he wanted

was to scare the sh*t...

out of me and Alafair,

and that's exactly what he did.

What did the guy look like?

He looked like

a big bad guy, Dave.

Jesus.

So, is this the way

it's going to be?

We can't have kids of our own...

and now I'm here with a child

pretending we have a family?

What the hell do you think

I'm doing all this for?

I'm out there

protecting that family.

Hey, Dave, bullshit.

You're not a cop anymore.

We gave all that up, remember?

What do you mean, we?

I had to live through it, too.

And I won't do it again, Dave.

I can't.

Well, what is that now?

Is that some kind of a threat?

Read it how you want.

What'll it be, Dave?

When a young man such as

yourself reaches out to me...

I take it serious, Bubba.

I invite you and your

lovely wife to New Orleans.

We talk...

work some things out.

I see an opportunity

to do some business.

You wanted to move

into New Orleans...

and I wanted a piece

of northern Louisiana.

I go home, tell my people...

that I think this young man

has some juice.

The next thing I know...

you're blowing up airplanes

full of people.

Calling a lot of unnecessary

attention to your business.

So what I'm wondering now is...

did I make a mistake in

my previous assessment of you?

The guy on the plane...

Johnny Dartez...

was working for the feds.

And I didn't know Dartez was

running wetbacks on the side.

Fine. You turn him off...

but you do it

with a little discretion.

A little f***ing precision,

for Christ's sake.

I mean,

even Tony and Dom there...

when they blow out

a guy's candle...

they don't kill women

and children along the way.

There is no problem,

Mr. Giancano.

I hear Dave Robicheaux

came to see you.

Dave and I grew up together.

He ain't gonna be a problem

unless we make him one.

I know Dave Robicheaux, too.

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