"Thanks, Elmo. I appreciate it, but here's my problem." I tell him about Belle Ame, the Brunettes, and the sexual abuse, giving him all the technical details. I tell him dryly, as one professional to another, one cop to another cop. "The thing is, Elmo, I have a kid there and I think I'd better get him out. Now." I don't tell him the kid is Claude Bon.

There is a silence. I can hear the chair creak as he leans back.

"Goddamn, Doc." The chair creaks again. There is a soft whistling. "You know, I heard something about that from the sheriff over at Clinton. I thought they had turned them loose for lack of evidence."

"They did. But now Dr. Lipscomb has the evidence."

Another whistling of breath through teeth. "Well, I mean shitfire, Doc. Why don't I call Cooter Sharp over at Clinton and tell him to bust the whole gang? I mean all. I mean, when it comes to messing with chirren-"

"You can do that if you want. But they've tried that. And it will take time. And they'll probably be looking for you, ready with their lawyers, and you're going to run into problems of federal jurisdiction."

"Yeah."

"Elmo, I want to get the kid out of there. Now. We, you, whoever, can bring charges later."

"Yeah." The creaking becomes rhythmic. He's rocking. "Yeah," he says again and in a different voice. "Tell you what, Doc," he says in a musing voice. He's leaning back in his chair. "Tell you what. You go ahead and take your exercise. I'll send up an officer to let you out the back gate. That will put you on the levee and batture, which is fenced off. What we got here, Doc, is a minimum-security holding facility-for illegals, politicals, suchlike. We're not part of the high-security prison farm, you understand."

"I understand."

"Thing is, Doc, the fence is a joke. Anybody can get over it, under it. But the thing is, even the hard-timers know that nobody but a fool would try to make it out by the river. That's the Raccourci Chute out there, and ain't nobody, I mean nobody, ever made it out that way to live to tell about it. You understand."

"I understand."

"Now, what we got here, Doc, is a fenced-off exercise area for our detainees, about a quarter mile of levee. Just so you'll know where you'll be walking, the downriver end is fenced off. The patrol's not going to bother you-they know the people here are mostly politicals. The willows begin down there at the batture corner of the fence. You might recall an old jeep road that deer hunters use that runs up from old Tunica Landing. I know you know where that is."

"Yes."

"That's about all I can tell you, Doc."

"I understand. Thanks, Elmo."

"For what? Enjoy your walk, Doc, but you be back here by two or my ass is in a sling. What I'm going to do now is send you up some breakfast. It's staff breakfast. After all, you been up here before on forensic business and are entitled to staff. You also looking a little poorly, Doc."

"I'm fine. Thank you, Elmo. Give my best to Miss Maude when you see her."

"I'll surely do that. She thinks the world and all of you."

"One last thing, Doc."

"Yes?"

"If you ain't back here by two, it's my ass."

"I'll be back."

"It's your ass, too."

"I understand."

Breakfast is at least four scrambled eggs, fried ham, a mountain of grits-the "big hominy" kind, which I haven't seen for years-and hot chicoried coffee.

I eat it all. There is a glass of water. It reminds me of something. I call Elmo.

"One little question, Elmo. I'll explain later."

"Sho, Doc."

"The breakfast was delicious. Where does the water come from?"

Elmo Jenkins laughs. "You noticed. Don't worry about it, Doc. You not drinking river water. That's Abita Springs water, right from our back yard, the best in the world, as you know."

"I know. What do the prisoners on the farm drink?"

"That's river water, treated so it's safe, but I can taste the chemicals."

"You mean from the Ratliff intake?"

"Right, Doc. Seems like you know this country around here."

"A little."

"Enjoy your walk, Doc."

I call Lucy. She picks it up on the first ring. "Yes?" she says breathlessly. She's ready. "Is that you?"

"Yes."

"You all right?"

"I'm fine. Is Vergil there?"

"Right here."

"Doc?" says Vergil.

"You all right?"

"I'm fine."

"What are we going to do, Doc?"

"We're going to get Claude."

"Fine. How are we going to do that? I already tried. They're all locked up and don't answer the phone. You think we ought to call the police again?"

"No. Here's what we're going to do. You know where Tunica Landing is?"

"I surely do. That's where my daddy used to put in to cross over to Raccourci Island."

"Good. I want you to meet me there in forty minutes."

Pause. "Doc, you in Angola. How we going to do that?"

"Don't worry. I have a-like a pass. Does your daddy still have his pirogue?"

"No, sir. He got a new one, a light fiberglass one, just before he got sick. He only could use it once or twice. It's good as new."

"Will it hold three people?"

"Three people. Well, it will hold me and my daddy and two hundred pounds of nutria."

"Can you get it in Lucy's truck?"

"With one hand."

"Good. Is Uncle Hugh Bob there?"

"Yes, sir. You want to talk to him?"

"No, that's not necessary. Just tell him to come with you. He'll be glad to. And tell him one more thing."

"Yes, sir."

"You know that old long-barrel Colt Woodsman he's got?"

"I sure do."

"Tell him to bring it."

"Tell him to bring it," Vergil repeats.

"For dogs."

"For dogs," Vergil repeats.

"They might have guard dogs at Belle Ame."

"All right, Doc." He seems relieved.

"We not going to kill them. We probably won't even need it."

"Right Doc."

"I figure it will take you forty-five minutes or so to get up to Tunica Landing. I'll probably be there by then. If not, wait."

"We'll be there."

"And Vergil."

"Yes, sir."

"Don't worry about Claude. I feel sure he's all right. But I don't want my kids in that place and I'm sure you feel the same way."

"I sure do. But what-"

"We're just going to ease down the river to the old landing at Belle Ame and pick up Claude and maybe have a little talk with those folks. Later we'll call the police. But I want Claude out first. We can't go by car because the gate's locked and they'd be expecting us. They're not going to be expecting anybody from the landing. So we'll have a look around, and a little surprise won't hurt them. They can't lock the landing. But there might be some dogs."

"We'll be there in thirty minutes, Doc."

"Good. Let me talk to Lucy."

Lucy's voice is constricted and high in her throat. "What in the world-!"

I tell her the plan.

"Are you crazy? Don't fool around with those people. Let me call the police."

"We will. But I want to get Claude out now and there's something I need to find out."

"Yes, but they'll-"

"They'll what? Shoot me? No no. Van Dorn doesn't know what we have on him. He's mainly worried about the heavy-sodium connection. He'll want to explain, talk me into something. He's the one that's worried. They don't even know about your clinical findings with the children. You didn't tell anybody, did you?"

"No, but-"

"But what?"

"Promise me that-"

"That I won't shoot anybody? I promise I won't shoot anybody."

"Promise me that you'll take care of yourself."

"I will."

"Good God."

"Now listen, Lucy."

"Yes?"

"Where is your truck?"

"Here. I've been here with the children, either on the phone trying to reach Gottlieb or waiting to hear from you."

"All right. Give the keys to Vergil. When we finish our business at Belle Ame, we'll either take my car if it's still there, or we'll drop on down to Pantherburn in the pirogue. I have to get back here by two. You can drive me up."

"After you finish your business." She's calmed down, is breathing easier. "And what do I do if you don't show up or I don't hear from you?"