Sapp shrugged.

"Lot of gay guys never really learned how to fight," he said.

"Most straight guys too," I said.

Sapp nodded.

"Well, I know how," Sapp said. "And I figured I could maybe serve and protect…" He stopped and thought about how he wanted to say it. "With a little more focus, down here, than I could working out of the Columbia County Sheriff's substation."

I sipped some of my beer. He drank some coffee.

"What do you do?" Sapp said. "I know you're carrying a piece."

"Alert," I said. "Detective. Private. From Boston."

"I figured you wasn't from down heah in the old Confederacy," Sapp said.

"Lawzy me, no," I said.

My instinct told me I could level with Sapp. My instinct has been wrong before, but I decided to trust it this time.

"I'm down here working for Walter Clive," I said, "trying to find out who's been shooting his horses."

"Horses?"

"Yep, apparently at random, several of them. He's worried now about a two-year-old named Hugger Mugger, who's supposed to be on his way to the Triple Crown."

"And after that a lifetime of stud fees," Sapp said.

Without being asked, the bartender came over with coffee for Sapp and a beer for me. He put them down, picked up the empties, and went away.

"So why come talking to me?" Sapp said.

"You know the Clive family?"

"Un-huh. Everybody in Columbia County knows the Clives."

"I'm interested in the son-in-law, Cord Wyatt."

Sapp didn't say anything. He put sugar in his coffee, added some cream, and stirred slowly.

"I am told he is interested in young boys," I said.

Sapp stirred his coffee some more. I suspected he was consulting with his instincts.

"So what if he was?" Sapp said.

"I'm told he acts out that interest."

"And?"

"I think adults have no business scoring children, but that's not the point."

"What is the point?"

"The family is strange," I said. "The crime is strange. Does that mean the crime comes from the family? I don't know. I'm trying to find out."

Sapp drank some more coffee. He nodded.

"I see how you're thinking," he said. "I was a cop once."

"Me too," I said.

"Why'd you quit?"

"I got fired. Disobedience."

"I'll bet you're pretty good at disobedience," Sapp said.

"One of my best things," I said.

I drank some more beer. Sapp drank some more coffee. The jukebox played a song I'd never heard before, sung by a woman I didn't know. The lyrics had something to do with a barroom in Texas. Two guys got up and slow-danced to it on the dance floor.

"I know Wyatt," Sapp said.

"He come in here?"

"Not very much," Sapp said. "I do some counseling too, on, ah, gender identity issues."

"Wyatt came to you?"

"Yeah."

"What can you tell me?"

"Anything I want. I'm not licensed or anything. I know something about gender identity issues. I just talk to people."

"What do you want to tell me about Wyatt?" I said.

"He's fighting it," Sapp said. "Something I know a little about. He wants to be straight and rich and have nice teeth."

"Man's reach must exceed his grasp…" I said.

"So he sits on the feelings and sits on them and finally he can't sit on them anymore and he goes off the wagon, so to speak."

"Kids?" I said.

Sapp nodded.

"Prostitutes mostly," Sapp said. "In Augusta."

"He ever get in trouble about it?"

"Yeah. Augusta Vice got him in a street sweep once, Clive got him off. He moved on a kid here in Lamarr once. Kid's mother called the cops."

"Clive get it buried?" I said.

"Yep."

"Money?"

"And fear. Delroy does it for him."

"I don't see Becker taking a bribe."

"Nope, but his boss will."

"Delroy the bagman?"

"Yep."

"What about the fear?"

"Delroy offers money to the kid's family. They don't take it, he tells them that something bad will happen to the kid."

"Wyatt tell you this?" I said.

"No."

"You talked with the kid," I said.

"Couple years afterwards," he said.

"He came to you?"

"Yeah," Sapp said. "He was afraid he was gay. I told him I thought he'd been exploited by Wyatt. I told him if anyone threatened him again he was to come right straight to me and we'd see about it."

"Anyone threaten him again?"

"No."

"Is he gay?" I said.

"I don't think so," Sapp said.

"You tell him that?"

"I'm not looking for converts," Sapp said. "I told him it's not important to be straight or gay. It's important to be what you are."

"Like you," I said.

Sapp grinned at me.

"I'm queer, and I'm here," he said.

"Know anything else about the Clive family that would interest me?" I said.

"Not much. I got a friend might be able to help you out, though. She's done some business with the other son-in-law. Whatsisname, Pud."

"How's she know Pud?" I said.

"She's a madame."

"In Lamarr?"

"In Lamarr."

"And how does she know you?"

"She's a member of the gay community," Sapp said.

SIXTEEN

THE HOUSE SAT on a nice lawn behind a white fence, on a wide tree-lined street where other houses sat on nice lawns behind white fences. All the houses dated from before the Civil War and, had they been a little grander, would have thus qualified as antebellum mansions. I parked in the driveway and walked up to the front door and rang the bell. The yard smelled richly of flowers. In a minute the door was opened by a smallish woman in jeans and a white shirt. She wore no shoes. Her toenails were painted dark maroon. Her gray-blond hair was twisted into a single long braid that reached nearly to her waist.

I said, "Polly Brown?"

"Yes."

"My name is Spenser. Tedy Sapp sent me over."

"Tedy called me," she said.

She stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind her.

"We can sit on the veranda," she said. "It's such a pleasant night."

We sat in a couple of rocking chairs and looked out across the dark lawn at the quiet street. There was a good breeze blowing past us and it must have discouraged the bugs, because there weren't any.

"This is not a whorehouse," Polly Brown said. "I run an escort service. My girls come to you."

"I'm not here for that," I said.

"I know why you're here, I was just clarifying my situation. The 'you' was generalized."

"Of course it was," I said. "You don't sound southern."

"I'm from Cincinnati," she said. "Went to college and everything."

"How'd you end up here?"

"I have no idea," she said.

We were quiet again, rocking in the near darkness.

"So what would you like to know about Pud Potter?" she said.

"I gather he availed himself of your services."

"Often," she said.