The Thanatos Syndrome

and call Lucy at Pantherburn.
    â€œLucy—” I begin.
    â€œOh, my Lord, I’ve been worried to death. There’s something I’ve got to—”
    I cut her off. “Lucy, I appreciate your concern for your uncle and I’m on my way.”
    â€œWhat?”she says. “What?”
    â€œI most deeply appreciate your concern for your uncle. I’m leaving now, okay?”
    â€œOkay, but—” She understands that something is up and I can’t talk.
    â€œI need you to help me make a professional call, okay?”
    â€œOkay”—baffled, but she’ll go along.
    â€œI’ll see you in half an hour, okay?”
    â€œHalf an hour,” she repeats in a neutral voice; then collecting herself: “Fine, I appreciate it!”
    I finish the last of the buttermilk. “Thanks, Hudeen. They’ll be back tonight.”
    â€œBless God! I sho be glad.”
    â€œHudeen, don’t call Carrie Bon about Claude. Don’t call anybody.”
    â€œBless God, I’m not calling a soul.”

10. THE COX CABLE VAN is still in place, the lineman still in his bucket, the driver still behind the wheel. Neither man looks at me.
    A pickup follows me through town, but it passes me on the boulevard, a new four-door Ranger. The passenger on the right wears a new denim jacket, a long-billed, mesh Texaco cap. He does not look at me. There is a nodding toy dog on top of the dash and a gun rack in the rear window. There is only one gun in the rack, an under-and-over rifle-shotgun. For a mile or so the Ranger stays a couple of blocks ahead. But when I pull into a service station it keeps going.
    I call Lucy at the pay phone. Her “hello” is guarded.
    â€œI’m at a service station in town. I can talk. I’m on my way to pick up Margaret and Tommy and Claude at Belle Ame. I’ll explain. Since you are making a professional call there, why don’t I pick you up? That way I could drop you and Claude off. To save time, meet me at Popeyes. Okay?”
    â€œSure.” She is still cautious, knowing only that something is up.
    No sign of the van or the Ranger on I-12 or the River Road.
    Lucy’s truck is parked at the rear of Popeyes, backed in under a magnolia heading out. It is two-forty-five. I park close, heading in, make a motion for her to stay put, and open the driver’s door. She slides over. She wears her white clinician’s coat—good, she picked up on the “professional call”—and has her doctor’s bag. She places the bag precisely on her lap, her hands precisely on top of the bag. She gives me a single ironic look under her heavy eyebrows but says nothing.
    â€œWe don’t have much time,” I say. We are spinning up River Road. I feel her eyes on me as I drive. “I have something to tell you. I think you have something to tell me. I’ll go first.” “You go first,” Lucy says.
    â€œEllen has gone to a bridge tournament in Fresno for the rest of the week. Without Van Dorn. I have reason to believe she is not well. I also have reason to believe there is something going on at Belle Ame, possibly involving the sexual abuse of children. For some reason Van Dorn has arranged for Tom and Margaret and Claude Bon to stay there with the boarders. I am going to pick them up after school. I don’t think there is anything to worry about—with them. What I would like to do is have a word with Van Dorn, and while I’m talking to him, I’d like for you to look around, preferably in a professional capacity, maybe some sort of routine epidemiological check, talk to children and staff, whoever, see what you can see.”
    She hangs fire, eyes still on me, not altogether gravely. “Is that it?”
    â€œFor the present.”
    â€œAs it happens, I can do better than that. I was over there last week checking on a little salmonella outbreak. Nothing serious, but it would make sense for me to make a follow-up call, collect a couple of smears. In fact, I ought to.”
    â€œGood.”
    â€œMay I say something now?”
    â€œSure. Till we get there. Which is right up the road.”
    River Road is sunny and quiet. The traffic is light: two tourist buses, three cars with Midwest plates, half a dozen standard Louisiana pickups, three hauling boats. No new Ranger or van.
    She speaks rapidly and clearly. “Comeaux is on to you. Their mainframe flagged down all our