Fat Tuesday(55)

He took her hand and kissed it."Basile was impressed. Great meal."

"Thank you. Coming in?"

"In a minute."

"Don't forget to lock up." She withdrew, but on the threshold of the patio door, she hesitated."Is everything okay?"

"Sure, honey. Everything is fine."

"I like Basile."

"So do I."

"He's nicer than I thought he'd be. By the way you described him, I expected him to be sort of scary."

Burke Basile was scary. To his enemies he was real scary. Right now, his future was scary.

But no scarier than Mac's.

"We were so fortunate to find this building unoccupied. It's away from the city's corrupting influences, which we consider a real plus."

That was Father Gregory's response to Mrs. Duvall's comment that she hadn't realized Jenny's House was located so far from metro central.

Burke was driving. Gregory, in the captain's seat beside him droned on about the advantages of the nonexistent facility. The two passengers were seated in back. A portrait of boredom, Errol stared vacantly out the window. Remy Duvall listened with interest and occasionally asked a question.

Burke was more than glad to let Gregory do the talking. While he wasn't much good at small talk, it seemed to be Gregory's special gift.

Burke hadn't even got out of the van when they picked up Mrs. Duvall and her bodyguard."I assume Duvall is at his office," he had said when he parked the van at the curb in front of the mansion."But on the outside chance he's at home, Father Kevin needs to stay out of sight."

Gregory, looking at peace with God and man, strolled up the front walkway. Errol answered the door and motioned him inside. Burke mentally listed all the reasons he should drive away now. There were pressing arguments in favor of ending this thing before he committed a serious crime.

But he dismissed them and focused instead on why he must do it: Peter and David Stuart. They were validation enough. Those two boys would grow up deprived of their dad, and Pinkie Duvall was the one ultimately responsible.

The front door opened, and the three came out. Burke looked beyond Errol to the woman, who was smiling over something Gregory had said.

The phrase "like a lamb to slaughter" flitted through his mind. But by the time they reached the van, Burke had capped his conscience. When she'd signed on as Mrs. Pinkie Duvall, she'd accepted the risks of being married to a criminal.

Gregory's glib chatter continued mile after mile. He was playing his role well and seemed perfectly at ease. Of course he wouldn't be this composed if he knew how the afternoon was going to end. Not wanting to make him nervous, Burke hadn't discussed the details with him. He assured him only that he wouldn't be harmed and that he wouldn't get into trouble. If all went according to Burke's plan, that promise would be kept.

"Excuse me, Father Gregory," Remy Duvall said, interrupting his ceaseless discourse."Father Kevin, is that smoke coming from beneath the hood?"

Burke had wondered when someone else was going to notice what he'd been seeing for the last couple of miles. Father Gregory, who'd been facing the backseat, came around."Smoke?" "Steam," Burke said tersely."I checked everything out before I bought the van, but I must have overlooked a leaky radiator hose."

'"What are we going to do?" Father Gregory was rattled. A busted radiator hose wasn't in the script.

Burke smiled at his cohort in as priestly a fashion as he could muster under the circumstances."We'll make it to our destination." "How much farther is it?" Mrs. Duvall asked.

"Only a couple more miles."

"I don't think it's gonna make it." This from Errol, who hadn't spoken since leaving the Garden District. Burke could feel his breath on his neck as he leaned forward and peered over his shoulder to assess the situation."If you keep driving it like this, you're gonna burn up your engine."

Gregory's composure slipped another notch."Uh, Father Kevin, maybe we should postpone this excursion, try again another day, after the van's been repaired. We don't want to inconvenience Mrs. Duvall."

"Don't worry about inconveniencing me," she said."I don't want irreparable damage done to your new van."

"Bless you for being so selfless and understanding," Gregory said to her. Then to Burke, "Let's just turn around and go back into town."

"It'll never make it back," Errol said."Pull into that service station up ahead. You can get this heap fixed, and I'll call Roman to come pick up Mrs. Duvall and me." Gregory said, "Father Kevin, it seems we have no choice."

The Crossroads was situated in a weed-choked delta of real estate formed by the convergence of two state roads. The filling station had six gas pumps and two garage bays. The attached cafe advertised cold beer, boudin sausage, and a variety of crawfish dishes. Flying above the buildings were the American flag, the Louisiana state flag and the bars and stars of the Confederacy.

Burke pulled the van to a stop and cut the engine. Steam was now billowing from beneath the hood. Hissing water and antifreeze from beneath the chassis splattered onto the pavement."I'll see if a mechanic is on duty," he said as he got out."Father Gregory, why don't you take Mrs. Duvall into the cafe and get her something to drink?"