by Hunter, Neil
If this was what it was like before the carnival, what would it be like on the day? Brand found it hard to imagine.
He felt the need to have a drink before he put himself fully back into why he was here in the city. A brief moment to clear his mind. He chose the first saloon he passed, easing his way inside and up to the crowded bar. The bartender was lean, black, his head shaved. He wore a red shirt and a white apron.
‘What you want?’
‘Beer,’ Brand told him.
He waited until the heavy glass was placed in front of him, paid, and turned to observe the crowd. The talk was loud. Cigar and cigarette smoke hung in a bluish haze near the discolored ceiling. For a few minutes Brand was able to forget his work, the grim reason that had brought him to New Orleans. It would have been an experience for Virginia and Adam. A chance to look around the old city. Maybe another time. When his assignment was over. Before McCord sent him out on some other risky deal. He thought that because he had never yet worked a case that presented him with peace and harmony. Brand often found himself wondering if it was something in himself that encouraged the violence he seemed to encounter. He didn’t dwell on that. It would have been too easy to slip into a melancholy mood. He drank his beer, watched the crowd, and let his thoughts drift.
When he felt the sharp prick of something sharp push through his clothing and into his right side he stopped his mental wandering, came back to reality.
‘No dumb moves, friend. This knife is very sharp and I got no religion when it comes to using it.’
The voice came from close. Close enough that Brand could feel breath on his cheek. Hot, spicy breath. As if to emphasize the threat the sharp tip of the knife was pushed in a little harder.
‘Listen to what he says,’ a second voice broke in from Brand’s left. ‘One push with that blade and you end up on the floor. Not what we want right now, but make it necessary and Rene will stick you.’
Rene said, ‘We walk out. No fuss. We go right and keep walking until I say otherwise. Just to make it easier for you to understand, my friend has a pistol in his pocket and like me, he will use it if you do something stupid. To konprann?’
Brand understood only too well.
The second man took the empty beer glass and placed it on the bar. Brand and his two companions walked out of the bar, turned as they stepped out, and eased their way along the crowded sidewalk.
He took a moment to assess the pair walking alongside him. Rene was thin, with a boney face, shoulder length dark hair. He wore nondescript clothing and scuffed shoes. His partner, taller, with hunched shoulders and a thick body, was pale haired and showed a haggard face with the broken veins of a drinker.
Brand considered making some kind of break but dismissed the idea. Rene’s knife tip stayed where it was and Brand knew it would be a moment’s work to thrust it deep. If it failed to kill him outright he could have ended up with a deep wound. He hadn’t discounted the other man’s handgun. If he started using that some innocent bystander could get hurt. The same applied to Brand’s own weapon. In his current situation he wasn’t going to have much of a chance to use it on this crowded street.
‘Down here,’ Rene said. They stepped into a narrow way between buildings.
Rene’s partner produced his pistol and held it on Brand.
‘Take a look now,’ he said.
Rene made a swift, knowing search, and slipped the adapted Colt from the shoulder holster. He showed it to his partner.
‘Hideaway gun,’ he said. ‘This is a sneaky feller, Lupe.’
Lupe grinned. There were gaps in his discolored teeth.
‘He won’t sneak around those damn gators.’
‘Now let’s go,’ Rene said.
Under the two guns Brand was ushered along the narrow walk to the far end where a black, closed carriage waited, a single man behind the two-horse team. The moment they were all seated, with Brand facing his captors the carriage lurched into motion. With the side curtains down there was no way Brand could tell where they were going. He sat back and let the situation develop. Right then it was a waiting game. Brand needed to find out who was behind this move – and why.
~*~
Some while later Rene spoke up.
‘Lupe, open the damn curtains. It is too hot in here.’
‘What if …?’
‘If he sees where we’re going? Does it matter now? He isn’t coming back. Give the man a last chance to see daylight.’ A shrill laugh bubbled from his throat. ‘You see, we’re not all bad.’
Lupe rolled up the leather curtain and fastened it out of the way. He repeated the move on the other side of the carriage. Light filled the interior. Brand saw they were moving away from the city, out into the surrounding countryside. Around them the lush foliage and close packed trees told him they were moving into the Bayou area. He glimpsed water through the trees, gleaming in the slanting shafts of hazy sunlight.
‘You better like water,’ Lupe said, stumbling over his words.
Brand held his tongue and thought about the one chance he might have at getting himself out of this mess.
Inside his right boot was a sheath sewn into the leather. The sheath held a slim, six-inch knife, the handle tight-bound with thin cord to offer the maximum grip. Brand honed the steel blade razor sharp. He kept the existence of the knife known only to himself and it remained his ultimate backup weapon.
Rene said, ‘I keep this fancy trick gun. It’s nice.’
Lupe only grunted. He slumped back in the seat.
‘You always get to keep the best things.’
‘Because I am chief. Smarter than you, Lupe.’
Lupe scowled but said nothing. He stared at Brand, his brow furrowing as he worked something out.
‘How do you figure that out,’ he said after some time. ‘You saying I’m stupid?’
‘Is this all because of a damn gun?’ Rene chuckled. ‘If it is so important I will give you the thing when we finish with this one.’
They travelled for at least another twenty minutes, into denser wooded terrain, thick with heavy grass and foliage. The hot air held a dampness that almost clung to them. Rene abruptly leaned forward and called out to the driver. He hauled the horses round and pulled to a stop.
‘Out,’ Rene ordered.
The ground underfoot was soft, holding a moistness than came from their proximity to the water. Brand heard soft splashes as they cut through, leaving the carriage behind.
‘Hear that,’ Rene said, relishing the words. ‘That’ll be the gators waiting to say hello.’
‘Those big fellers goin’ to love you,’ Lupe said. ‘You make them good meal.’
~*~
The muzzle prodded Brand forward, through the thick grass in the direction of the water. Rene picked up a fist-sized rock and tossed into the dark water of the bayou behind them. The rock made a splash and almost immediately the disturbed form of a large alligator thrust its scaly head into view, massive jaws snapping. It moved back, the water disturbed by its motion, and the massive body could briefly be seen as it slid by.
‘Bayou, she got plenty of gators around, an’ they always hungry.’ Rene waggled the Colt at Brand. ‘Now we got to ask a couple questions,’ he said.
‘You’re going to feed me to the damn alligators and now you want me to be cooperative?’
‘You answer an’ maybe we shoot you instead,’ Lupe said.
‘That supposed to make me feel better?’
Lupe sniggered. ‘Be damn sight quicker.’
‘I gotta ask what you found out about the dead girl,’ Rene said.
‘It going to make any difference if I said I found nothing.’
‘You think we’re that dumb?’ Rene said.
‘I could make up something up keep you happy,’ Brand said. ‘Or tell you how stupid you really are.’
Rene’s short temper exploded and he swung the gun in his hand at Brand, catching him across the side of the head. The blow stung, had less impact than it
could have, but Brand played along and gave a pained grunt, letting himself stumble and fall. As he rolled in the grass, onto his side, he hiked up the leg of his pants, sliding his fingers down inside his boot. He grasped the haft of the knife and slid it from the sheath, pulling his hand close to his body.
‘You think you killed him?’ Lupe asked. ‘You can’t until we get what Durant wants to know.’
‘Des clous!’ Rene muttered. ‘I didn’t hit him that hard. Come on, you faker, get up …’
He leaned over and took hold of Brand’s coat, turning him over. The blade of the knife caught sunlight as it arced up and around, Brand thrusting it directly into Rene’s body, twisting and slicing. Blood began to surge from the ragged gash. Rene gave a strangled gasp, and Lupe, not sure what was happening, stepped to the side to see, his hand bringing his own gun up, muzzle searching for a target.
‘Hey, what …?’
Brand had yanked the knife free with his left hand and snatched the pistol from Rene’s relaxed grip with his right as the man began to fold over him. He leaned around the man’s sagging form, picked up on Lupe’s large frame as he extended the gun, snicking the hammer back. The Colt cracked out a hard sound, the .45 slug punching in over Lupe’s left eye. Brand was not in the mood to be lenient. He pulled the trigger a second time, placing the slug through the top of Lupe’s skull as the big man bent over. Lupe jerked in a violent spasm before his legs gave way and he fell forward onto his face, the back of his head a bloody mess. His finger tightened in reflex and his own pistol blew a gout of flame, the slug thudding into the ground.
Rene was partway to his knees, one hand clamped tightly over the bleeding wound. It pulsed between his fingers. He was cursing wildly, his free hand swinging at Brand in a wild punch. Brand shouldered the slight figure aside, sending Rene stumbled backwards, his feet slipping from the grassy bank into the edge of the bayou, splashing noisily …
Behind Rene the mass of the gator rose out of the water, the black, reptilian carcass glistening as it surged forward. Rene must have sensed the danger seconds before the reptile struck. The massive jaws opened wide, rows of teeth showing in the moment before they clamped down on Rene’s left arm and shoulder. Brand saw the sheer terror on Rene’s face as the gator hauled its prey back into the bayou, water splashing in silvery cascades as it shook the suddenly screaming man, jerking him about as if he was nothing but a bundle of rags.
It was over in seconds. The gator submerging, taking the screaming Rene with it, his voice cut off as he was dragged under, and Brand watched, thinking that was what Rene and Lupe had been planning for him. It was a sobering moment as he realized how close he had come.
Brand stuck the bloody knife blade into the ground to clean it before returning it to the boot-sheath and tugging his pants back in place.
He remembered the carriage driver then, something forcing him to turn, bringing the Colt up. Brand saw the dark shape moving out of the trees. The man carried a short-barreled shotgun, the stock held tight against his right hip. The moment he picked up on Brand he jerked the twin muzzles in his direction. Seeing the movement Brand twisted aside, dropping to one knee, the Colt held two-handed as the shotgun fired. He felt the wind of the passing buckshot. Felt his sleeve being tugged. He knew he only had seconds before the man adjusted his aim and let go the second barrel. He took one of those seconds to aim, hold steady and trigger the .45. He felt the pistol jerk against his palm. He took the hammer back again and fired a follow-up shot. The carriage driver took a step back as both slugs pounded his chest. He pulled on the shotgun’s trigger and fired the second charge off to one side. As Brand rose to his feet the man toppled, hitting the ground flat on his back, the shotgun slipping from his hands.
New Orleans was turning out to be less than hospitable.
Brand’s assignment was barely started and he had been targeted. He recalled what Rene had said.
‘I gotta ask what you found out about the dead girl.’
That said it all. Whoever was behind Rene and Lupe knew why Brand was in the city. The reason for his visit to New Orleans.
His presence in Crescent City was no secret, Brand admitted. On the other hand, it was not something that had been widely spoken about. McCord would have telegraphed Inspector Noonan and Brand wouldn’t have expected the policeman to have broadcast the imminent arrival of someone from the Justice Department.
So how had the news got out?
For a brief moment Brand thought about Noonan himself. Could the leak have come from the Inspector? It was not beyond the realm of possibility, but Brand, who felt himself a good judge of character dismissed the idea. If he was wrong he would find out sooner or later.
Brand moved on. He thought about the telegraph operator. The man would have picked up the details of Brand’s arrival in the city and the reason he was there. Right now that was single lead. Worth looking into once he returned to the city and spoke to Noonan.
The Colt special, quickly reloaded, was returned to the shoulder holster under his jacket as Brand picked up the Greener the carriage driver had dropped. He searched the dead man’s coat and found a number of cartridges. He broke the action, extracted the spent shells and reloaded. He felt a little more secure with the loaded shotgun in his hands.
He located the carriage, climbed aboard and picked up the reins. Turning the carriage he set off through the wooded area and made the return trip to the city.
~*~
‘If I was involved,’ Noonan said, ‘of course I wouldn’t admit it, and I can understand why you might think it.’
They were seated in Noonan’s office.
The police officer had listened to what Brand had to tell him. When Brand had mentioned his initial suspicions Noonan even managed a thin smile.
‘Natural enough reasoning. I took the telegraph message so I knew you were coming. It would have been easy for me to have informed my …’
‘Accomplices?’
‘Whoever they are.’
‘When the message arrived was it brought directly to you?’
‘As far as I understand. The telegraph office is one floor down. All the officer had to do was walk up the stairs and hand it to me.’ When Brand waited in silence Noonan added, ‘George Kenworthy. We have two operators. They work shifts and Kenworthy was on duty when the message from your Mr. McCord came through.’
‘Begs the question – how did those men learn about my presence? And why I was here. Those fellers I tangled with knew about the dead girl. Their names – Rene and Lupe – they mean anything?’
Noonan shook his head. ‘From what you said they sound like a pair of hired thugs. Plenty of those around New Orleans.’
‘What about Durant? Way I heard it those two were working on his behalf.’
Noonan showed interest then. ‘You sure that was the name you heard? Durant?’
‘More than sure. You know that name?’
‘Jake Durant? Yes, I know that name. This will interest you. Durant is in the employ of Victor Lacroix …’
‘The Lacroix who showed up here in your office?’
‘The very same.’
‘He shows up soon after I arrive. Then I get involved with that pair Rene and Lupe who know Durant and we’re back to Lacroix. Maybe I should be concentrating my efforts on him.’
‘He’s a bad man to cross.’
‘Hell, aren’t they all.’
Brand stood and crossed to stare out the window, watching the crowds. The Mardi Gras was attracting many visitors to the city. Brand was fast realizing his investigation was not going to be easy. Lacroix had sway in the city. He was wealthy and had people he could call on. Brand didn’t allow that to deter him. If Lacroix was behind the killings and pulling strings to manipulate matters it was going to make for an interesting situation. A challenge. And one thing Jason Brand thrived on was a challenge.
~*~
Inspector Noonan turned at the tap on his door.
‘Come in.’
The u
niformed constable, young and lean, stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
‘You find him?’ Noonan asked, anticipating the answer by the expression on the officer’s face.
‘No one at the hotel has seen, or heard from Mr. Brand since he left this morning, Inspector. The only piece of information I did learn was he asked directions to a livery so he could hire a horse.’
‘We need to …’
‘I already asked at the stable. I know the man who owns the livery. When I described Mr. Brand, Felcher said he rented him a horse.’
‘Thinking like that is liable to get you promoted, Kelso.’
‘Brand asked for directions for a location out of the city,’ Kelso added.
‘Let me guess. Victor Lacroix’s estate?’
‘How did you know that?’
Noonan smiled. ‘By being smart, Kelso. That’s how I got my promotion.’
Lyle Kelso waited, wondering what the Inspector would decide. Noonan stared out the office window. Brand had made it clear he had his own ideas how to deal with Lacroix following the earlier attempt on his life. Noonan was sure the man was experienced enough to look after himself, yet he also knew Lacroix’s reputation. If Brand got too close and threatened Lacroix, the man would protect himself. Brand had yet to come up with solid evidence that the man was involved in the disappearance of three young woman and the possible involvement in the death of Netta Delacort. Working at doing just that might easily place Brand in a dangerous position, and despite being experienced he would be facing Lacroix’s influence and wealth.
‘If there is anything I can do, Inspector …’
Noonan glanced at Kelso. The young policeman was so eager to prove himself. Perhaps there was a way he could help.
‘Go home,’ he said. ‘Get out of uniform. I don’t want you looking like a law officer. Don’t tell anyone in the station what you’re up to. Kelso, this is important. No one in the station must know what you’re doing. Understand? No one.’
