his eyes hard black dots. "I thought you were workin' for me, son. You out on your own?"
"This is bullshit, Milt. Who you gonna believe, me or this turd?"
Rossier squinted harder. "You bring me something and I pay for it, it's mine."
Jimmie Ray looked greasy and he kept shooting glances at René. "Hell, yes, it's yours. This sumbitch is jus' tryin' to weasel!"
Rossier shook his head and sighed. "Goddammit."
"I swear, Milt. I'm tellin' you the truth."
LeRoy came back and slapped Jimmie Ray on the back of his head, knocking the pompadour sideways. "Emplate!"
Jimmie said, "Hey!"
Milt Rossier spit at the weeds, then headed for the near building. "Y'all c'mon. Bring'm, LeRoy. René! You, too, now."
We followed Rossier between the two buildings and out to a small circular pond surrounded by a low wire fence. LeRoy picked up a two-by-four as we walked. The banks of the pond were muddy and scummed with something green and slimy, probably runoff from the processing sheds. Rossier got there first and waited impatiently for the rest of us to catch up. He gestured at the pond with his cigar. "René". You get Luther. Be careful, now."
I said, "Luther?"
Jimmie Ray shook his finger at me and laughed. "Yo' ass is grass now, boy."
René stepped over the fence, knelt at the edge of the little pool, and slapped the water. He slapped three or four times, and then something moved beneath the surface and the water swirled. René jumped in up to his knees and his hands plunged down and caught something that made him stagger. He found his balance and then his face went red with strain and he lifted out a snapping turtle that had to be three feet across and weigh almost two hundred pounds. It was dark and primordial with a shell like tank armor and a great horned head and a monstrous beak The head twisted and snapped and tried to reach René, but couldn't. Its mouth was almost a foot across, and every time it snapped there was a sharp clicking sound, like a ruler rapping on a desk. René trudged up out of the water, stepped across the fence, and put Luther down. When he did, the turtle pulled its feet and head up under its shell. The head was so big it didn't fit and its snout was exposed. LeRoy was grinning like a jack-o'-lantern. He waved the two-by-four in front of the turtle. The big head flashed out and the big jaws snapped and the board splintered. LeRoy beamed. "That Luther's somethin', huh?"
Jimmie Ray shook his finger at me some more. "We'll see who's lyin'now."
Milt Rossier said something in French, and René grabbed Jimmie Ray and jerked him toward the turtle. Jimmie Ray said, "Hey!"
Jimmie Ray tried to pull away from René, but he didn't have any better luck than Luther. René carried him by the back of the neck and the belt, and pushed him down on the ground just outside of Luther's range. You could see the beady turtle eyes following the action from up under the shell. Jimmie was yelling, "Goddamn, Milt, stop it! Please!" His eyes were big, and he had gone as white as typing paper.
René let go of Jimmie's belt and grabbed his right forearm and forced his right hand toward the turtle. Jimmie Ray screamed.
Milt said, "Now you tell me true, son. You using my information to blackmail this gal?"
"I swear I ain't, Milt. I swear."
"René."
René forced the hand closer. Luther's eyes blinked, and the big jaws parted.
Milt said, "Try again, son."
I took a half-step forward. "That's enough, old man. Make him stop."
Milt said, "LeRoy," and LeRoy pointed the big.45 at me. LeRoy was grinning. Milt shook his finger at me. "You jes' sit tight." He stepped closer to Jimmie Ray and squatted beside him. "Ol' Luther looks like he's anxious, boy. You better tell me."
Jimmie Ray was babbling. "I didn't see what it'd hurt. It didn't have nothing to do with you or us and I thought I could just make a little extra cash please Milt please make'm stop I never woulda done it if I thought you'd be mad I swear to Christ!"
"All right, René. He's done." Jimmie Ray Rebenack had peed his pants.
René lifted Jimrnie Ray out of harm's way. The wet stain spread across the seat of his pants and down his legs. Milt chewed on the cigar and stared toward the buildings. His eyes were small and hard and not a great deal different from