Crescent City Connection

Politicians talked about family values to stir up working-class people, while the fat cats who really ran the country, the ones at the top, did anything they damn well felt like, and got their pictures in People magazine. And that was only the tip of the iceberg.
    Global Operations Ltd., which Roger had founded and of which he was the CEO, was the biggest polluter in the world today, having strip-mined thousands of acres in seventeen countries and dumped toxic gunk in every river in every one of those countries. Along with exploiting the land, Global had exploited the poor, paying slave wages under life-threatening conditions, and causing more deaths each year than cancer. He was as much a murderer as Hitler or Idi Amin, yet because of his connections, and because of his money, Owens would never be convicted of anything, let alone punished for it.
    “Well?” said Shellmire.
    “Shit. Just shit.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    Skip didn’t answer. Though she’d done nothing wrong, though she’d call Rosemarie Owens again if she could turn the clock back, she was too mad at herself to say anything.
    “The guys here don’t think it’s genuine.”
    She nodded. “It looks like a copycat. It definitely looks like one. It isn’t a criminal justice issue. That’s what The Jury’s supposed to be into, right? Is that how they’re reading it?”
    “You got it. This one’s all over the map—feminism, environmentalism, you name it. I mean, Owens might have been a bad guy—sounds like he was a kissin’ cousin to the Prince of Darkness—but it doesn’t feel right. The other issues were cut-and-dried, more or less. At the risk of sounding crazy myself, they were easy to identify with. Popular causes.”
    “Yeah.”
    “Is that all you’ve got to say?”
    “The letter is genuine, Turner. I swear to God the thing’s genuine. Jacomine killed him for his lady love. Avenged her honor, so to speak.”
    “Bullshit.”
    “For a price, Turner, for a price. He’s going to try to collect it now. And that’s where we come in.”
    “Would you mind telling me what you’re talking about?”
    “Listen, have you met Rosemarie Owens?”
    “No.”
    “Well, I’ve talked to her on the phone, and Jacomine may well have met his match. I tipped her unwittingly—she was ready for him when he called. With a tiny little errand for him to run.”
    “Wait a minute, now. Hold it. You’re a good cop—therefore you didn’t tell her he’s a suspect in the Jury case.”
    “No, I just got her to thinking. She had to know he was already a murder suspect. And let me tell you, she’s the kind of woman who gives hard bitches a bad name. I’m telling you she got him to kill hubby. By the way, they’re not divorced yet—I’ll bet she still inherits. But I doubt she actually hired him. They probably just had a nice, friendly talk—real gentlemen’s agreement kind of thing. Terms probably weren’t even slightly spelled out. But I’ll bet Jacomine got the idea a lot of Owens’s dirty money might just make its way into his hands if he did his ex-wife a good turn. Who knows? Maybe she’s going to join up with him— maybe they’re the new Barrow gang.”
    * * *
    Daniel had rarely seen his father so exuberant. “Things are going great, son. Things are going our way.”
    Daniel usually stood while his father sat. Today he sat, too. His dad was in too good a mood to complain, for one thing. For another, he felt deflated. Depressed about the way things were going; not at all in agreement with his father.
    “Daniel, boy, you want your little girl back?”
    “Daddy, you know I do. I’d like to work on that now.” That was the closest he dared come to saying what he meant:
I haven’t had a spare second, goddammit. I couldn’t look for her because I’ve been too busy gratifying your damn teenage crush.
    “I’m very happy with the way things are going. Aren’t you?”
    No.
    But he said, “The Bazemore hit was real important.”
    His dad only nodded. It was impossible to rile him today. “Yeah. The Owens thing too. We have done a lot of very important work. For a while now, there’ll be no more killing.”
    “I think that’s a good idea.”
    “We’re in tune, boy. We’re right in tune.” His father just kept nodding and smiling. “Now we’ve got two projects to do here in New Orleans. Then we’re gon’ move on. First thing is to get our little family back together. We’re gonna find Lovelace and get