Milt Rossier pulled up short, surprised. He knew me, but he'd never seen Pike before, and when Pike took out his.357 and let Rossier see it, the old man said, "Well, goddamn."

Pike said, "Let's go back to the patio. Comfortable there."

Rossier looked back at me. "We ran you outta here. I thought you left."

I said, "Everybody always thinks that, Milt, and everybody's usually wrong."

Pike said, "The patio." Down below us, LeRoy Bennett was yelling for René to get his ass up to the house. René looked our way, but you couldn't be sure what he saw or what he was thinking.

Rossier frowned at Pike's gun and then we went back to the patio. I said, "Sit down, Milt. We've got a business proposition."

Milt Rossier eased his bulk down into one of the white lawn chairs, and Pike lowered the gun. Rossier said, "Somebody got to old Jimmie Ray. I told you he'd stop messin' with that little gal, and he has. I thought we were shut of that." He tried looking at me, but he kept glancing at Pike and the gun. Nervous.

I smiled. "Not that kind of business, Milt." LeRoy Bennett was a white midget down between the ponds, arms and legs pumping as he ran toward us. Rene" La-Borde was finally headed our way, walking with a stiff-legged lumbering gait like Frankenstein's monster. I said, "Milt, here's the word. You're gettin' screwed by Donaldo Prima, and we can double your money."

When I said Donaldo Prima the old man's face tightened and he tried to put down the iced tea, but he missed the little table and it shattered on the patio. Just like Frank Escobar. Maybe poor hand-eye went with a life of crime. He said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

I looked at Joe Pike. "Man, these guys come up with the good lines, don't they, Joe?"

Pike didn't move. LeRoy was closer, and Pike was watching him. René was still down between the ponds, but he was getting up a head of steam. I guess Pike was thinking about having to shoot them.

I said, "You and Donaldo are moving illegal aliens upriver through bayous upon which you hold the leases. Donaldo deals with the people down south and contracts with the illegals, and you provide inter-coastal transportation and a secure location through which they can enter the country."

Rossier was waving his hands, feeling panicked and trying to push up out of the chair. "I don't know any of that. I don't know what in hell you're talking about." Pike leaned forward and shoved him back. Rossier swatted at Pike's hand the way you would swat at an aggravating gnat, and Pike palmed him hard once on the top of the head. Milt stopped the swatting. "I don't know any Prima or illegal alien nonsense or anything else. You'd better get out of here right goddamn now 'fore I call the law!" Giving us an old man's outrage.

I held up two fingers. "Two words, Milt. Frank Escobar."

He stopped sputtering, and his eyes focused on me.

"Escobar controls the coyote scene through the port of New Orleans and the intercoastal region. We left him a couple of hours ago. Prima used to work for Escobar, but now he's gone into business for himself with you, and Escobar doesn't like it that Prima's taking his business. Prima's getting the business because he's cutting prices, and Escobar likes that even less. You following me with this, Milt?"

Milt was squinting at me big time now.

"And because Prima's charging less, you are getting less. Do you see? You're getting, what, a grand a head for your end?"

Now Milt wasn't bothering with the denials. We were with the money, and when you're with the money you have their attention.

"Frank will give you two grand apiece, Milt. Double your money. If you're getting one load of illegals a week, thirty people on average, that's thirty thousand a week, one hundred twenty thousand a month from Mr. Prima. But Frank doubles it. The thirty becomes sixty. The one-twenty becomes two hundred forty thousand per month, every month, just for using Escobar and cutting out Prima. Are we talking about the same thing, now, Milt?"

LeRoy Bennett chugged up to the patio, winded and barely able to keep his feet. He saw the gun in Pike's hand and clawed under his shirt, trying for his own piece. Pike punched him once in the side of the face. Bennett dropped. Pike bent over and disarmed him. Pike said, "Some muscle."

Rossier stared at LeRoy thoughtfully and said, "I am surrounded by dunces."

I made a little shrug.

Rossier shook his head and settled back into the lawn furniture. "Well, I guess you're the new Jimmie Ray Rebenack, aren't you? He thought he tripped over Easy Street, too. Look where he is."

"Milt, Jimmie Ray and I aren't even from the same planet. Don't forget that and we'll be okay."

René lumbered up and stopped at LeRoy, and then he looked at Joe Pike, and the big body gave a shudder. His eyes focused, and he stepped across LeRoy and Pike brought up the Python. "I'll kill him."

Milt Rossier screamed, "René! Goddamn it, you stop right there, René!" The old man's face was mottled, and he looked close to apoplexy.

René looked confused. LeRoy moaned, then rolled over and saw René staring down at him. "Don't just stand there, you dumb fuck, help me up."

René picked up LeRoy as if he were made of air. LeRoy hobbled to one of the lawn chairs, holding his side. "Got a goddamned stitch from d' run."

Pike said, "Exercise."

Bennett scowled. "You fuck. We'll see 'bout it, sometime, heh?"

Pike said, "Unh-hunh."

Rossier said, "Forget all that right now. We're talkin' business." He looked back at me. "What do you get out of this?"

"We get what Escobar pays you for the first delivery. Call it sixty thousand." Big lies are always easier.

"Bullshit."

"What's the bullshit, Milt? I'm brokering the deal. You would've kept going with Prima because you don't know any better, with him laughing behind your back. I've figured it out for you, and I've set it up. Your money doubles right away, and for this service, Joe and myself get exactly one week's take. After that it's all yours. You recoup in two weeks over what you were making from Prima." I gestured to Joe Pike. "Seems fair to me, Joe. How about you?"

Pike nodded. "Fair."

You could see Milt Rossier working it through, thinking about all that free money just for giving the spics a place to dock their boats. Convincing himself. That's the way the best cons work, they convince themselves. He said, "Frank Escobar, huh?"

I said, "Let me give you a couple of pointers, Milt. Two a head is top end, so don't start thinking you can get Prima to pay more. Frank is looking for what we call exclusivity here, and he will want to make sure that Donaldo is permanently out of the picture. Do we understand each other?"

"Unh-hunh."

"Frank wants you to let Prima bring in another load, only this time we'll all be out there at the pumping station together. Prima won't know about Frank and Frank's people, of course, because if he did, he wouldn't show. When he shows, Frank wants to pay him back personally, you see?"

Milt Rossier was shaking his head. "He don't need me there for that."

"Yeah, Milt, he does. Frank figures that if you'll sell out Prima, you'll sell out him, too, so you guys are going to have to make a marriage out there. No marriage, no two grand per. Two hundred forty thou every month, Milt. Prima won't be going home, but everybody else lives happily ever after."

Milt Rossier was thinking about it.

I gave him the phone number that Ramon del Reyo had given me. "I'm giving you a number to call. Call it if you want, or not. Up to you. It's not Escobar, but it's his people. If you're interested, check out if the deal is real. If not, blow it off. Your choice."

He took the little slip and looked at it. "What's to keep me from cutting you out?"

"Milt, you don't live in a fortress. You cut us out, you're over."