Fat Tuesday(92)

You know."

"Hmm," brother Joe said, very noncommittally.

Only I don't know how to contact him."

"What makes you think he wants to be contacted?"

Shrewdness was a Basile family trait. Brother Joe wasn't a cop, but he was no mental midget either."Before he left, he said it was too bad I couldn't go with him, something to that effect. Now that I can, I figure he'd welcome the company."

During the long silence that ensued, Mac gnawed on his lower lip.

His eyes darted about the cafe, trying to detect any early morning diner who might be spying on behalf of Pinkie Duvall or Del Ray Jones.

None seemed the least bit interested in the nervous man hunched over the public telephone.

Finally Joe Basile said, "I'm afraid I can't help you, Mr. Mccuen.

When I last spoke to Burke, he sounded pretty down in the dumps. He mentioned getting away to me, too, and, frankly, I got the impression that he wanted to be left alone."

Forgetting his recent prayers, Mac mouthed a few obscenities."I see."

"Tell you what, though. If Burke calls me, I'll pass along your message. Then if he wants to invite you to join him, he can. Okay?

That's the best I can do."

Mac considered telling Joe that his older brother had committed a federal crime. That might make him more cooperative. But he rejected the idea almost as soon as it occurred to him. Duvall didn't want it broadcast that his wife had been abducted. If the news got out and the leak was traced back to Mac Mccuen, he'd be dead sooner than later.

"Look, Mr. Mccuen, I've got to go," Joe Basile said."It was nice talking to you. If I hear from Burke, I'll tell him you're available to join him. Have a nice day."

He hung up, leaving Mac holding a dead phone. He replaced the receiver and trudged back to the counter, where he asked for a coffee refill, then stared into it morosely.

Jesus, how had things gotten so bad, so fast?

A couple of weeks ago he'd been feeling pretty damn good about his life. He'd been in debt to Del Ray Jones, but he'd been in debt before.

One could always get some money, big money, if he knew how to go about it. Sure, the numbers were higher than ever before, but wasn't that just a matter of zeros? True, he'd been a fool to get involved with Del Ray that scumbag gave loan sharks everywhere a bad name but it was a temporary crisis, and a solution was waiting right around the corner.

He'd been confident that everything would work out.

Now all hell had broken loose. Basile had up and quit, tossing the whole Narcotics Division on its ear. Internal Affairs had decided it was time for another probe, which put everybody, including Mac, in a very bad mood. Pat was disconsolate and distracted by Basile's resignation and involvement in what seemed a kidnapping. Del Ray Jones had reared his ugly head, and he had Pinkie Duvall behind his threats, making them much more viable.

Mac's only hope of salvation was to find Basile for Duvall, and his only hope of finding Basile had just told him to have a nice day.

"Not f*cking likely," he mumbled as he fished a couple of bills from his pants pocket and left them on the counter.

Pinkie had given him twenty-four hours. By nightfall he had to know where Basile was holed up with the lawyer's wife or else. The odds were lousy.

Joe Basile thoughtfully hung up the telephone in the den and pondered the strange call from Mac Mccuen. But he couldn't dwell on it long because there was a guest seated at the dining table in the kitchen drinking coffee with Linda. His wife hadn't planned on being a hostess early this morning. Pulled from bed by the ringing doorbell, she was in her oldest, warmest robe. Her eyes were still puffy from sleep.

She looked at him as he reentered the kitchen."Who was on the phone?"

'"Somebody from the office, asking what time I'd be in." She gave him an odd look, but said nothing, and offered to cook their guest some breakfast."No thanks, Mrs. Basile," Doug Pat replied."I grabbed something at Denny's before coming over. I apologize for showing up at your front door this early in the morning."

"No problem."

"You drove up from New Orleans last night?" Joe asked him.

"Yeah, I got in late, and I'm heading straight back as soon as I leave here. I knew it would be a quick-turnaround trip."

"Why didn't you just call?"

"I could have, but I thought we should talk in person."

"It's that important?"

"I believe so. Over the course of your brother's career, he's cultivated a number of enemies, not only among criminals, but inside the police department. I thought it best if we not discuss this matter over the telephone."

"You're scaring us, Mr. Pat," Linda said."Has something happened to Burke?"

"That's what I don't know but want to find out. He resigned from the department, then a few days later disappeared under mysterious circumstances."

"He called and told me he was going away for a while to sort things out," Joe offered."In light of his and Barbara's split, and his sudden retirement, I don't consider those circumstances mysterious."

"You're unaware of other factors involved."

"Such as?"

"I'm sorry, Joe, but I can't discuss them. It's classified police information " Placing his folded hands on the table, he appealed to them."Please. If you have any idea where Burke might have gone, tell me. It's essential that I locate him before anyone else does. I can't impress upon you how important this is."