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“We knew what you meant,” Willa Mae said briskly. “And you’re right. When I was practicing law, one of the hardest lines to walk was keeping the emotions of my clients out of the equation while remembering their humanity. It’s not easy.”
“I hope he gets some sleep,” Manny murmured. “He was awake when I got up at six. I don’t think he’d been to bed at all.”
Xavier shoved his hands in his pockets. “What can we do while he’s sleeping? I feel like we have to do something to move this along. For Gabe and Rocky and Nadia and all the others.”
“We need to know everything about Ducote that we can find out,” Burke said. “First and foremost, was he the guy in the hoodie? He might have killed Nadia Hall during Katrina—”
“He did,” Xavier insisted. “I saw him.”
Burke smiled kindly. “I know, and your eyewitness testimony will be critical when he’s formally charged with that crime. But we’ll make the case for Nadia stronger if we can show how all the recent killings were to cover up that original murder. Our energy now is best spent focusing on his current crimes, and that means proving that he murdered Mule—and the female victim he was disposing of in the bayou. Antoine, Mule’s killer said something to Gabe.”
Antoine didn’t reply. He had headphones on and was staring at his laptop.
“Antoine,” Burke said louder, and the other man’s head jerked up.
Antoine removed the headphones. “Sorry. What’d I miss?”
“I was talking about determining if Ducote and the hoodie guy were the same. The guy said something yesterday when Molly was holding him at gunpoint.”
“ ‘And whose was it, boy?’ ” Antoine said, mimicking the man’s deep voice. “I was just listening to it again.”
Xavier had watched that video a few dozen times. “Gabe had just said that the man had killed his father’s murderer, but that it wasn’t his to do. The hoodie guy was mocking him.”
Antoine nodded. “I thought the same. I found a video of Ducote giving a press conference a few months ago. Listen.” He unplugged his headphones and turned up his laptop’s volume.
Xavier closed his eyes, concentrating as Antoine played it. “They don’t sound the same. Hoodie Guy’s voice is deeper than Ducote’s.”
Antoine’s smile was sharp. “Yeah, but he was faking it. Listen to the intonation, the way he says ‘boy.’ ” He played the Ducote tape again.
On the video, a reporter asked Ducote if he thought he could get a conviction for the crime he was trying in court that day. “You can bet your britches, boy,” he said with a charming smile that sent unpleasant shivers down Xavier’s spine.
He shuddered, trying to shake it off. But it was hard. That man had been Nadia Hall’s lover. I saw him kill her. He’s the man in my nightmares.
“It’s still not the same,” Cicely said. “The guy yesterday had a deeper voice.”
Antoine turned the laptop around so that they could see the screen. “Yes, but the sound print looks the same. The pattern of his vocal cadence is the same. As is his body size.”
“How reliable are voiceprints?” Xavier asked.
Antoine tilted his hand side to side. “So-so.”
“So, we can’t prove it’s Ducote,” Burke said, “but we can’t prove it’s not, either.”
“Basically,” Antoine allowed.
“What about connections?” Xavier asked. “Molly’s always talking about connections, right? Ducote connects to Nadia Hall through the dog. Ducote and Mule must connect through their jobs. ADAs and cops work together, right?”
“They do,” Burke said. “But then again, Mule will connect to hundreds of other people through work, as will Ducote. For now, I’m assuming that Hoodie Guy is Lamont Ducote until we know better. Mule somehow knew that Ducote was at that exact spot on the water yesterday. They arrived at different times, but Mule couldn’t have been following him. Molly and Gabe were following Mule and he went straight from his house to the bayou. He couldn’t have used a tracking device on Ducote’s car, because Ducote had stolen George Haslet’s. Unless Mule knew which car he’d steal and that’s unlikely.”
“He could have a tracker in Ducote’s phone,” Manny suggested. “It’s what I’d do.”
“Possibly.” Burke pulled his laptop from a case near his feet. “But I’m also thinking about the way the two spoke to each other. Their body language said that they were comfortable with each other—until Mule pulled his gun, and Ducote shot him.”
Soon everyone had their laptops out except for Cicely and Willa Mae. Cicely looked over Xavier’s shoulder and Willa Mae just knitted. But the older woman was listening keenly to their chatter, Xavier noticed. It would be a foolish person who underestimated Willa Mae Collins.
“Found it!” Antoine crowed.
“No fair,” Carlos said with a frown. “You have three laptops.”
