Fat Tuesday(44)

"Their house?" Burke repeated, rubbing the back of his neck."I was expecting to meet in a public place."

"Well, no such luck," Gregory said."So it's no go, right? You have to ditch the plan." Upon reflection, Burke said, "Actually, this might work out better.

What time did you set the meeting?"

"Didn't you hear what I said, Basile?" "Yes. You said, their house tomorrow. And I asked you what time."

"This is never going to work."

"It'll work. If you keep your cool and do everything I tell you to do, it'll work."

"Maybe you think you know me, Basile, but you don't. Basically I'm a coward. When it comes to choices, I always think of myself first."

Good. That's good. Think of yourself. If you leave me in the lurch, or choke up and blow the sting, think of yourself in jail for a very long time."

Gregory moaned forlornly."Even if something goes wrong that's not my fault, you'll probably blame me."

"No, I won't. I promise," Burke told him, meaning it."No matter how this goes down, you'll walk away free and clear."

"Free and clear? From Pinkie Duvall?" Gregory snorted scornfully.

"I nearly shit bricks just calling his house on the telephone. I remember my folks talking about him around the dinner table when I was still in grade school. He's a freaking legend, one of the most powerful men in this town, if not the most powerful." "I know all about him."

"So then you know he's a damn scary character. It's rumored that he's had people killed if they crossed him."

"It's more than rumor."

Gregory's jaw dropped open with incredulity."Yet you expect me to walk into his house impersonating a priest, meet his wife face to face, and take money from her?"

"Unless you want to go to jail and become the sweetheart of a guy everybody calls Bull."

"You've used up that marker. I went to the cathedral with you and acted out my scene. Brilliantly, I might add. That squared us." "I never said that," Burke countered blandly."I said that if you agreed to play Father Gregory, I'd let you off the hook."

"I assumed I only had to pose as Father Gregory that one time."

"Well, you assumed wrong. What time tomorrow?"

"You're crazy as hell, Basile."

"Probably."

Gregory had him there. This plan of his was crazy. Dramatic, yes.

Effective, assuredly. Crazy, definitely.

Since hearing Mrs. Duvall's confession, he'd thought the plan through from every angle. There was always a damn good chance that something would go awry, but he was taking every precaution against failure.

He'd vacated his apartment and, using a false name, had moved into another place that was equally as disreputable. He'd ditched the Toyota for an older model.

When in the new car, he kept an eye on his rearview mirror. On foot, he checked frequently to see if Bardo, or someone of his ilk, was tailing him. He was fairly certain no one was.

Had Duvall called off his dogs? After Burke declined his job offer, Duvall might have dismissed him as insignificant. Maybe he was too cocksure of himself to fear retribution from a bummed-out, broke, besmirched ex-cop like Burke Basile. If he did expect reprisal, he would be looking for it to be violent.

That's why this just might work.

"Why can't another cop play the priest?" Gregory whined."How come an undercover cop can't be Father Gregory?"

"Because you're a better actor than anyone in the division."

Gregory still thought he was participating in a covert police action.

"Well, I quit," he said, taking a stand."I don't want to play Father Gregory anymore. I'd rather go to jail than have Pinkie Duvall after my ass."

Burke bore down on him."If you back out on me now, your skinny ass will be fair game for every pervert in the Orleans Parish jail.

I'll see to it." He now had the younger man backed against the stained wall of the men's room. Teeth clenched, Burke said, "Now, for the last f*cking time, Father Gregory, what time tomorrow?"

"What a pleasure it is to meet you, Mrs. Duvall." Gregory James smiled disarmingly as he shook hands with their hostess."Thank you for agreeing to see us."

She glanced beyond him to the second priest."Uh, this is Father Kevin," Gregory stammered."My colleague and cofounder of Jenny's House."

Burke had chosen his pseudonym in honor of Kev Stuart, which seemed appropriate.

"Thank you both for coming," she said."I'm flattered that you want to enlist my help."

The solarium into which the butler had shown them overlooked the rear lawn and afforded a clear view of the gazebo. Looking at it, Burke remarked, "You have a beautiful estate, Mrs. Duvall."

He wasn't worried about her recognizing his voice. In the confessional he'd spoken in a muffled whisper and had faked several coughs Nor would she make a connection between the spit-and polished Father Kevin and the casually dressed, mustachioed man in the baseball cap who'd retrieved her forgotten sack of oranges at the outdoor coffee bar.

"Thank you. Please sit down."

He and Gregory sat side by side on a wicker settee. She sat in a chair facing them and asked if they would like coffee.