In the Electric Mist Page #6

He'd drown

in a bathroom sink.

Here you go.

It's nothing personal,

Miss Kelly.

But I think you're a very fine,

beautiful young woman.

I'm already soaked.

I was burdened greatly

by the deaths of those

around me, Lieutenant.

But incorporating

their suffering

into our own lives does not

change the way of the world.

An act of kindness,

one as simple

as giving a girl my raincoat,

had resulted

in her death.

The shooter

had left nothing behind,

no ejected brass,

no recoverable prints.

We had no suspects.

But one heart-sinking

and unalterable

conclusion remained.

Kelly Drummond was dead.

And she was dead because

she had been mistaken for me.

The tragic death

of Kelly Drummond,

the longtime companion

of Elrod Sykes

and star of the popular

television series

River Valley,

now appears certain

to have been a case

of mistaken identity.

Sources within

the sheriff's department

conflrmed that

they now belleve the fatal shot

may have been intended

for someone else.

I'm going to miss her, Dave.

You want him

to stay here?

Guy's in bad shape.

This is our home.

Mr. Sykes just did

the rainbow yawn again.

Go to bed.

The guy needs an AA friend,

or he's not going to make it.

So what?

I don't care.

Tell you what,

I'm going to make you a deal.

First time he takes a drink,

he gets 86ed

right straight back

to his movie star

trailer house.

He pays for his share

of the food.

He does not

tie up the bathroom.

He does not come in late.

Okay, but only

for a few days.

Do you like

being a movie star?

It's just a job, honey.

Really?

Yeah.

It's like Dave.

You think he enjoys

enforcing the law,

catching the bad guys,

making the good people

feel better?

Yeah.

Yeah, well...

I like my job.

I'm sorry

about Kelly.

Me too, honey.

I've got 50 movie posters here

from Tears and Diamonds.

I hate that picture.

Well, 50 movie posters

signed by Elrod Sykes

will fetch $25,000.

That's four roofs,

eight with volunteer labor.

Here's your felt-tip pen.

The worst thing

a cop can do to himself

is eat his own gun.

Lou Girard

always called at night.

Tonight someone else

had to make the call for him.

There's a half empty bottle

of Bourbon here on the dresser,

spilled bottle of Diazepam

here on the coffee table.

Y'all writing that off

as a suicide?

Well, that's the way

it looks to me.

He was in bad shape.

Mattress is covered

in piss stains.

The sink is full

of raw garbage.

Where's the gun at?

By the bedside.

If Lou Girard wanted

to kill his self,

how come he didn't use

that .357?

'Cause he was drunk

on his ass.

Not an unusual condition

for him.

He was helping me

on a case, Doobie.

And?

Maybe he found out something

somebody did not

want him to know.

He was trembling,

eating pills every morning,

in front of everybody.

There's no big mystery

to what happened here tonight.

He was a good cop.

He was a sorry-ass drunk.

Now, if you want to look

at anything else, hurry up.

I'm going

to seal the place.

I appreciate you waiting outside

just for a moment.

Matter of fact, I appreciate you

staying as far away from me

as you can possibly get.

What had Lou found out

that had cost him his life?

Hogman Patin knew a lot

and seldom said anything.

Now I got word

he wanted to talk to me.

I started to think about

when I was in the pen.

And your daddy,

he brought my mother food

and paid for her medicine

up at the store

when she was sick.

You got something

to say to me, Sam?

What was the name of that n*gger

you dug up out the sandbar?

DeWitt Prejean.

He was f***ing

a white man's wife.

Start asking what

he's doing for a living,

and you'll find the people been

causing you all this grief.

Who's the man

I'm looking for?

I said

all I can say.

This still

the state of Louisiana.

Why you keep

bothering me?

I need to know what kind of work

DeWitt Prejean did.

Done n*gger work.

You know, he cut lawns,

cleaned out grease traps,

got the dead rats out

from under people's houses.

What the f***

you think he did?

Don't sound right to me.

I think he did

some other kind of work too.

You leave me alone.

You're a pretty good

judge of character, Mr. Hebert.

Do I look like somebody

that's going to go away?

Hm?

It was better

back then.

You know it was.

What kind of work he do,

Ben?

Drove a truck.

Who for?

It was over

in Jeanerette.

I brung her out here

'cause she works for me,

'cause I can't get in and out

of the car good by myself.

He worked seasonal

for a white man,

owned some big sugar mill.

I don't know

nothing about him

except he was a brother

of that crippled fellow.

That's all I know

and nothing more.

You saying I do,

then you're a Goddamn liar.

Something else

you want to say?

You got a fish

on your line.

Batist.

How many sugar mills they got

over there in Jeanerette?

Just one.

Hey.

Come on in.

Stopped by

to say good-bye,

give you

a going-away present.

Where you headed,

Cholo?

Thought I might

go to Florida,

maybe open a business

like you got here.

What you doing with

all that lawn furniture

in the back end

of your pickup?

Guy at the Holiday Inn wanted me

to take it when I checked out.

Said I'd kind of be doing

him a favor, you know?

Giving him a write-off.

You had some trouble

with Baby Feet.

Yeah.

I told him he was a douche bag

and I wouldn't work for him again

even if he begged me.

That Cherry LeBlanc girl

was right

when she

called him a needle-dick.

That's when the son of a b*tch

comes across my mouth

with this big...

Now, wait, wait, wait.

What's this

about Cherry LeBlanc?

If he tells you

he never knew her,

ask him about this.

Julie forgot he told me

to take some souvenir pictures

when we drove over

to Biloxi last year.

Is that her or not?

Did Baby Feets

kill this girl?

Come on, Lieutenant.

You know how it works.

A guy like Julie

don't do hits.

He says something

to somebody,

then he forgets it.

If it's a speclal kind of job,

maybe somebody calls up a geek.

Did Baby Feets

make that call?

Start a photo album,

Lieutenant.

Make up

your own mind.

What's Murphy Doucet

doing in this picture?

What's wrong, Dave?

Got a loose ignition wire.

You got a knife

I could use?

Yeah, I ought

to have something.

This should do.

Some Mexican pulled this on me

in Lake Charles.

I didn't know

you were a cop in Lake Charles.

I wasn't.

I was working highway

for the state police.

That's where

I retlred from last year.

Is that when you got into

business with Twinky LeMoyne?

No, we go back

a ways further.

Thanks for the knife.

What's the deal?

Lou Girard was

looking at her file last week.

Lou arrested her

on a prostitution charge.

It wouldn't be

one officer.

It was a state police raid

on a bar...

State police?

Who sent that arrest report?

Oh, Sgt. Murphy Doucet.

Murphy Doucet.

I'd missed it.

Lou Girard had dug up

Cherry LeBlanc's arrest record,

and it had

cost him his life.

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