Too Far Gone

3

Detective Manseur drummed his fingers absently on the steering wheel as he sped along streets Alexa wasn’t familiar with. Policemen, firemen, and ambulance drivers were required to learn the streets of their cities and towns until they were human GPS devices. If cabbies and delivery people didn’t do the same, they were less effective at their jobs, but people didn’t usually die on account of it.

Alexa’s understanding of the layout of New Orleans was sketchy. She knew that the streetcar ran from Uptown, through the Garden District, and made a loop at Canal Street. She knew the Mississippi River curved around the city, which was why it was called the “Crescent City.” She knew that Lake Pontchartrain was north and that the twin-span across it was the longest bridge in the world. She knew where the French Quarter, the Central Business District, the Federal Court Building, and FBI Headquarters were located.

“You ever heard of the LePointe family?” Manseur asked her.

“Can’t say I have,” Alexa replied. “Sounds French.”

“They’re the most influential family there is around here. They’re socially prominent, wealthy, and as generous as people get. The LePointes don’t usually give out in the open.”

He stopped talking to make a left turn.

“Any questions so far?” he asked.

“These LePointes make the social page wearing tuxedos more than most people and throw around money and are fairly discreet about it,” Alexa said. “But not so discreet so that everybody isn’t aware of it.”

Manseur sat as silent as might a nun who has just heard someone accuse the Pope of using money sent to the Vatican from poor boxes to buy lap dances.

“So, I assume your missing person is a LePointe,” she said.

“Gary West. He married Casey LePointe.”

“So Gary West would be a valuable target for a kidnapper?”

Manseur nodded.

“What were the circumstances of his disappearance?”

“He didn’t come home for dinner.”

“Missed dinner? Obviously a kidnapping.”

“Oh, you’re being sarcastic. I’m sorry if I’m not doing this briefing right. I just want you to know we’re dealing with people who are important to powerful people.”

Alexa laughed. “Forgive me. It’s late, and being a smart-ass is part of my FBI training. Go ahead.”

“I don’t mind.” Manseur had slowed the car, so Alexa figured they must be getting close to wherever they were heading. “Dr. William LePointe is presently the last male LePointe. His brother, Curry, has been dead for twenty-six years. The Wests have a kid, I think a young daughter.”

“The family’s influence explains why an out-of-place LePointe by marriage rates the commander of Homicide.” And an FBI agent who specializes in abductions.

“Kyler Kennedy, our Missing Persons detective who was at your lecture, is meeting us there. It should be Kennedy’s case-at least at first-but not this time. I was hoping you could watch how we handle it, suggest things we miss, or whatever. My superiors don’t want a big fuss made about this until it’s established that there’s a need for a big fuss. They’d like to keep everything low-key.”

“Like keeping it a secret that one of these LePointes is missing?”

“Alexa, you don’t see a LePointe in the newspaper except on the society or business page. Dr. William LePointe was Rex before he was thirty-five years old.”

“Rex?”

Manseur smiled. “You’re not familiar with Rex?”

“I only know from experience that it’s the number-one name for German shepherds.”

“King of Carnival. It’s about the biggest deal there is in this city. Well, being Momus is probably bigger, but Momus is always masked, so nobody but a few people in that secret society have any idea who the king of Momus is. See, Rex brings in Mardi Gras-Fat Tuesday-and Momus bids adieu to Mardi Gras.”

“The festive alpha and omega, or yin and yang. How did I miss that?” Alexa said. Manseur talked about Rex and Momus like a Catholic might speak of the Virgin Mary. He probably was Catholic.

“By the way, I didn’t mention to anybody that I was bringing you along.”

“You didn’t mention the FBI coming in?”

“Just to advise, if that’s okay. Unofficially.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I’ll be ranking officer at the scene. We have this new superintendent of police. He told me to make sure this went right. You understand, nobody wants to involve the FBI unless it turns out to be an FBI matter-”

“Of course not.”

“Which nobody thinks it is. I’m just…” Manseur hesitated.

“Covering your bases.”

“Covering my something. The LePointes give millions every year to all sorts of things, like schools, libraries, the zoo, museums, scholarships, after-school programs, homeless and battered women shelters, summer camps, and hospitals. They’ve donated firefighting equipment, ballistic vests, and service weapons to the police. The LePointes are extremely generous to New Orleans.”

“I don’t suppose their generosity extends to political campaigns?” Alexa asked.

“Local, state, and national.”

“Say no more,” Alexa said.