Thrown-away Child

repeated the question.
    “Just some other kids nobody know. They come around a few days ago and gave me a little money to °Pen up, and something in the way of a fee, and that’s how it was.” Again Pastor Hearn shrugged. “Like I say, don’t seem at all proper.”
    “No…” Bougart paused as a New Orleans Police Department cruiser drove slowly by. There was a uniform driving. A white man in a suit stared out the passenger window at Bougart. The cruiser came to a stop at the comer of Poydras.
    “Officer?”
    “Sorry, I was distracted.”
    “Time was, babies were having babies. Now comes babies burying babies.”
    “I see what you mean.”
    “Is that so? Then what you going to do about it, Officer Bougart?”
    Bougart was further distracted. The white man stepped out from the police cruiser, crossed the street, and headed determinedly in his direction.
    “Where’s the burial?” Bougart asked the question hurriedly, making Pastor Hearn jumpy. Bougart had to grab him before he could lock the church door behind him. “Where is it?”
    “I got no idea what they going to do with that mutilated body.”
    “Mutilated. How do you mean?”
    “That boy had something burned into his belly, like he was nothing but a farm animal.”
    “You talking about he was branded?”
    “That’s right.” Pastor Hearn crossed himself. “Tell you a little confession, Officer. I know I should’ve asked, but I was plum afraid of the answers I’d get.“
    “I guess I can understand that.” Bougart turned for a look at the man approaching him and recognized him as one of the deputy commissioners. He could not think of his name right away, but he had a fair idea of what he was about to be told. “Pastor, could we speak again?”
    Hearn could see the white man stalking up toward the church. He looked from him to Bougart. “All I did was a job of work here. I don’t want any police trouble.”
    “It won’t be official business. I just want to know something about this kid you sent off.”
    Pastor Hearn crossed himself, and slowly closed the door. “I don’t suppose you read poetry, Officer.“
    “Not on a daily basis.”
    “Ever hear of Edna St. Vincent Millay?”
    “Sure I have.”
    “She wrote something worth your thinking over.“
    “What’s that?”
    “ ‘Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies.’ ” Bougart had neither time to think nor time to respond to Pastor Hearn. The white man was on him now, sweating and puffing after his walk over from the cruiser. He flashed a silver star, and said, “Deputy Commissioner R. D. Geary.” Bougart smelled tuna on his breath. “You the one they call Booger?”
    “I’m the one.”
    “I want a little word with you.”
    Pastor Hearn slammed the door of his church.
     

NINETEEN

     
    Ruby’s sister, Janice, was not among the early arrivals. “She loves making her entrance, and she hates seeing a head-sucking mess.” That was Ruby’s cryptic explanation. Mama added, “Janny got appearances to keep up.”
    This was how I learned that Janice Flagg was a television reporter, and therefore a local celebrity who naturally took her own sweet time about gatherings of any kind, family included.
    The meaning of “head-sucking mess” would dawn more gradually. For the time being, I was happy to be back in Mama’s house with all my in-laws to meet, which would be enough to keep me from buckling at the knees whenever I thought about the alternative.
    Back on Chartres Street, I had managed to flag down a taxi after being ambushed. I returned home while Mama was still out shopping at her jot-em-down store and Ruby was still snoozing. I had managed a bath in the clawfoot tub set against a wall full ot schoolgirl crayon drawings by Ruby and Janice. Also I had myself a cat nap and somehow managed not to dream of three men in a Jeep firing dumdums.
    By the way, what was I going to do about that? Call a cop? You’re a man more interested in justice than police work, Neil, which now you see can be opposing forces. I felt like ringing up Davy Mogaill back in New York. Beyond that—and deciding to keep quiet about the ambush with Ruby and Mama, who had worries of their own—I had only a hazy idea about how to ride the situation. I felt more like a rookie cop on the beat than a seasoned detective. Besides which I was not even walking my beat, I was sleepwalking.
    Speaking of sleep, I wished I could have had more. But while I was trying to let something shrewd float into