Let the Devil Out (Maureen Coughlin #4)(49)

“Revenge,” Maureen said.

“Who’s in town raising hell over his dead son?” Atkinson asked.

Maureen thought again of Dice, of her warnings. She’d have to be careful about what she told Atkinson. But she did have to tell. “Listen, I saw Dice the other night. I was downtown, on Frenchmen, for a show. She appeared out of nowhere, must have followed me to my car.”

“I should’ve heard about this sooner.”

“I was suspended,” Maureen says. “I wasn’t supposed to talk to anyone on the job.”

Atkinson frowned at her. “You pick that night to follow the rules.”

“Okay, you’re right, I could’ve made it work,” Maureen said. “Anyway, I’m telling you now. She told me there were rumors in the streets about someone looking for Leary. Somebody had been working the downtown neighborhoods at night, asking questions about her to the street kids. A man. Dice thought he might be NOPD.”

“She give you a description?”

“She hadn’t seen the man herself,” Maureen said. “She’d just heard that he was looking.”

“I thought she was your snitch,” Atkinson said. “She didn’t bring you anything else?”

“I wouldn’t go that far. She’s not my snitch.”

“What does this person want with Leary?” Atkinson asked.

“Dice didn’t say. She didn’t know. She just asked me to back off.”

Atkinson raised her eyebrows. “Why would she ask you that?”

“You know what I mean,” Maureen said, recovering. “She asked me to maybe get this other cop to back off. She seemed concerned for Leary’s safety. Like maybe the search was more personal than professional.”

Atkinson walked over to a marble bench in front of one of the larger tombs. She sat, leaned her elbows on her knees. That marble has to be ice cold, Maureen thought.

“You think Gage did this?” she asked. “You think he knows Leary killed his son?”

“I’m assuming he knows how his son died,” Atkinson said. “What kind of wound he suffered. If she has a history, he might recognize the method. I don’t know who she is to him. I don’t know what he knows about her, or even about his son.”

“Revenge would explain why he’s in New Orleans,” Maureen said. “Revenge and to shut Leary up if he’s involved with the Watchmen himself. He had to figure she’d fall into our hands eventually, by way of a shelter, jail, or the emergency room. There weren’t really any other options for her. Asking about the death of his son would be good cover for being in the city.” She paused. “But then why tell the cops you’re here in the first place if you’re in town to commit a murder? Why not do the deed and slip back out of town?”

“Unless he figures there’s no way for him to hide being in New Orleans,” Atkinson said. “Like, say for example, he knows the feds are interested in him.”

“Fuck me,” Maureen said. “Detillier told me the FBI was in the dark on this guy. That’s why I’m meeting him tomorrow.”

“Detillier told you that?” Atkinson asked. “That they’d never heard of Leon Gage before he came to New Orleans?”

“Not that exactly,” Maureen said. “He made it sound like Clayton was the one they were interested in, that Leon had just popped up because of Clayton’s death.”

Atkinson raised her shoulders, turned up her empty palms. “Making one thing sound like another. Sure sounds like the feds to me.”

“That motherf*cker.”

“Don’t feel bad,” Atkinson said. “That’s how they do. I think sometimes it’s unconscious. He might not even know he was playing you.” She stood. “And maybe I’m completely wrong about Detillier. Maybe Gage is here for the reasons he gave and didn’t think he’d find her and he took advantage of an opportunity. Maybe she set it up, the meeting in the cemetery, like she did the other two killings, maybe that’s what really brought Gage to New Orleans, and it just went wrong for her.”

“You believe all that?” Maureen asked.

“I have to be open to every possibility,” Atkinson said.

“But do you believe any of what you said?”

“About as much as I believe Leary’s death was a suicide.” Atkinson shivered and zippered her coat. Finally, Maureen thought, the cold is getting to her. She’s human. Atkinson said, “Can you find that girl again? Dice. I want to talk to her. She’s the only person we know in the city who knows a thing about Leary.”

“I didn’t find her,” Maureen said. “She found me.”

“I know you’ve tried to help Dice,” Atkinson said. “To build trust, a rapport. That’s good police work. If you can produce her, I don’t have to send other cops who don’t know her like you do looking for her. If you can find her, things’ll go easier for her.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“It is what it is,” Atkinson said. “It’s not news that the Eighth District and the gutter punks are not real collegial with each other.”

“It’s not my district. Won’t I be stepping on toes?”

“Since when has that stopped you?”