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”It isn't a traffic situation.“ He began to laugh in a cigar-choked wheeze. ”Sweet Pea's got his mother's body sticking out of the car trunk. See what you can do, Dave.“
Chapter 3
MILES UP the old Lafayette highway that led past Spanish Lake, I saw the lights on emergency vehicles flashing in front of a convenience store and traffic backing up in both directions as people slowed to stare at the uniformed cops and paramedics who themselves seemed incredulous at the situation. I drove on the road's shoulder and pulled into the parking lot, where Sweet Pea and five of his hookers- three white, one black, one Asian-sat amidst a clutter of dirty shovels in a pink Cadillac convertible, their faces bright with sweat as the heat rose from the leather interior. A group of kids were trying to see through the legs of the adults who were gathered around the trunk of the car. The coffin was oversize, an ax handle across, and had been made of wood and cloth and festooned with what had once been silk roses and angels with a one-foot-square glass viewing window in the lid. The sides were rotted out, the slats held in place by vinyl garbage bags and duct tape. Sweet Pea had wedged a piece of plywood under the bottom to keep it from collapsing and spilling out on the highway, but the head of the coffin protruded out over the bumper. The viewing glass had split cleanly across the middle, exposing the waxen and pinched faces of two corpses and nests of matted hair that had fountained against the coffin's sides.
2 O
A uniformed deputy grinned at me from behind his sunglasses.
”Sweet Pea said he's giving bargain rates on the broad in the box,“ he said.
”What's going on?“ I said.
”Wally didn't tell you?“
”No, he was in a comic mood, too.“
The smile went out of the deputy's face. ”He says he's moving his relatives to another cemetery.“
I walked to the driver's door. Sweet Pea squinted up at me against the late sun. His eyes were the strangest I had ever seen in a human being. There were webbed with skin in the corners, so that the eyeballs seem to peep out from slits like a baby bird's.
”I don't believe it,“ I said.
”Believe it,“ the woman next to him said, disgusted. Her pink shorts were grimed with dirt. She pulled out the top of her shirt and smelled herself.
”You think it's Mardi Gras?“ I said.
”I don't got a right to move my stepmother?“ Sweet Pea said. His few strands of hair were glued across his scalp.
”Who's in the coffin with her?“
His mouth made a wet silent O, as though he were thinking. Then he said, ”Her first husband. They were a tight couple.“
”Can we get out of the car and get something to eat?“ the woman next to him said.
”It's better you stay where you are for a minute,“ I said.
”Robicheaux, cain't we talk reasonable here? It's hot. My ladies are uncomfortable.“
”Don't call me by my last name.“
”Excuse me, but you're not understanding the situation. My stepmother was buried on the Bertrand plantation 'cause that's where she growed up. I hear it's gonna be sold and I don't want some cocksucker pouring cement on top of my mother's grave. So I'm taking them back to Breaux Bridge. I don't need no permit for that.“
He looked into my eyes and saw something there.
”I don't get it. I been rude, I did something to insult you?“ he said. ”You're a pimp. You don't have a lot of fans around here.“ He bounced the heels of his hands lightly on the steering wheel. He smiled at nothing, his white eyebrows heavy with sweat. He cleaned one ear with his little finger. ”We got to wait for the medical examiner?“
he said. ”That's right.“
”I don't want nobody having an accident on my seats. They drunk two cases of beer back at the grave,“ he said. ”Step over to my office with me,“ I said. ”Beg your
pardon?“ he said.
”Get out of the car.“ He followed me into the shade on the lee side of the store. He wore white slacks and brown shoes and belt and a maroon silk shirt unbuttoned on his chest. His teeth looked small and sharp inside his tiny mouth. ”Why the hard-on?“ he said. ”I don't like you.“
”That's your problem.“
”You got a beef with Sonny Boy Marsallus?“
