A Crying Shame (24 page)

I have a short attention span, Badon. Humor me. Tell me again.”

The cat-and-mouse game all good lawmen learn; or they never become good lawmen. But this time it was being played with some humor in it, the game changed to fit the man under the invisible lamp of interrogation.

I was sent for, by Mr. Paul Breaux.”

How did he get in touch with a man like you? It's rather doubtful you and he run in the same social circles, correct?”

Jon shrugged.
Through a mutual acquaintance, shall we say.”

Of course you wouldn't care to name that ‘mutual acquaintance.' ”

Of course.”

All right, Badon. Now the sixty-four dollar question: What did a man of Breaux's wealth want with a mercenary? Excuse me—a soldier of fortune.”

I'll answer that with no hesitation, and with the truth. Paul Breaux wanted me to capture two or three of these creatures—Links, as he called them—that Mr. Breaux suspected had been living in the Crying Swamp for hundreds, perhaps thousands, of years. Then he wanted me to dispose of—kill—the rest of them.”

Interesting,” Mike softly mused, rolling the word from his mouth.
What was Mr. Breaux going to do with the ... Links you captured? And I assume there are a number of them?” God, let my assumption be wrong.

There are many of them, Sheriff. He didn't know just how many. As to your first question ... I don't know what he planned to do with them. And that is the truth. I really do not know.”

You ever heard of a PSE test, Badon?”

You ever heard of reading a man his constitutional rights, Saucier?”