Night Watchman

“Very good. Tell me what’s going on.”

“How confidential is this?”

“Technically speaking, not very, at least not yet. But I take a bit of a different view. Nothing you tell me leaves this room, unless you’re about to commit a crime.”

The policeman gave a hearty laugh. Tubby smiled back.

“Okay, this guy, Archie Alonzo, the head of our policeman’s association, has never liked me. I beat his ass once in high school over a girl, his sister in fact, and he has never gotten over it. So they reorganized our department last spring, you may have read about it, and suddenly nobody can work a private detail without going through a so-called central system. Which actually doesn’t work, and they don’t care who your existing clients are, but they might be people you’ve worked with for years.”

“A private detail? You mean like guarding a bar?”

“They don’t let you work bars anymore— not in uniform. That’s supposed to put cops in close proximity to bad guys, which is a no-no. So now, we have to guess who the bad guys are. But we work everything else. Parties, weddings, funerals, festivals. The easiest job is being a crossing guard for a private school. Working details is the only way you can make any money in our line of work. Do you know what the pay scale is for cops?”

“Not much, I bet.”

“You got that right. They changed the rules for who can take what private job, but there’s been a lot of confusion lately. So I kept on doing the same private jobs I’ve always done, and some dweeb turned me in. I filed a grievance and Alonzo, our union president, told me to my face that I’m fucked. He says he won’t lift a finger. And in his day he stole thousands of dollars on private details. One thing led to another and I smacked him.”

“You broke his jaw?”

Ireanous laughed, even deeper this time. “One punch and down he went. The guy always has been soft.”

“Who swung first?”

There was a pause.

“Well, he made a threatening gesture.”

“Like what?”

“He jabbed me in the chest with his finger.”

“That’s good. What’s your current status in the department?”

“I’m just biding my time, waiting for my hearing, living the good life in the Ninth Ward.”

“Where were you before?”

“Uptown at Magazine and Napoleon.”

“That was better?”

“Much.”

“Less crime?”

“Sure, and lots better criminals.”

“When’s your hearing?”

“Who the hell knows. Whenever Internal Affairs feels like burning me.”

“All this just for working an unauthorized private detail? What was it?”

“I was, uh, bodyguard for Trey Caponata?”

Tubby knew that name. “The old man’s son?”

“Yeah.”

“The mob boss’s son?”

“That was just a rumor,” Babineaux said. “The mob is history anyway.”

Tubby shook his head. “Nuts. I met the old guy just one time and there was no question that I was breathing only because it pleased him to see me sweat.”

Ireanous shrugged.

“So that’s it?” Tubby asked.

“No,” the cop said. “Not quite. I also run, I should say ran, the organization that assigned the private details to the other cops.”

“You mean you were in charge of who got the jobs?”

“Pretty much. Other people kept track of the schedules and the books.”

“Ru

The potential client nodded.

“Did you have any left over for police work?”

The scowl, the growl and the slap on the desk erupted all at the same time.

“I was and am a damn good cop!” Babineaux thundered.

There was a light tap, tap, tapping on the door.

“Come in,” Tubby said softly.

Cherryly

“No, we’re fine,” Tubby said. She backed out and closed the door quickly.

“Are you married?” he asked the policeman.

“Divorced.”

“Any kids?”

“I’ve got a daughter. She’s in college, but when she’s home she lives with me.”

“Where is she in school?”

“Florida State. She wants to be a doctor.”

Tubby sighed. “Okay. I will represent you. Here’s a contract to look over.” On the document was a blank space where Tubby could write in his hourly fee. He filled that in with a high number and slid the paper over the desk. “Take it home and read it if you like.”

“I can read it here.”

And he did. It was just two pages long, but it took about ten minutes, while Tubby stared out the window at the French Quarter far below. A long string of barges filled with Kentucky coal was being guided downstream around the hairpin turn in the Mississippi River by a red tugboat. Ultimate destination, Spain.

“You get a retainer?” the cop asked.

“I do.”

“What the hell,” his new client said. “I’ll sign.”

“Excellent,” Tubby said. He took back the executed contract and signed it himself. “You can take care of the retainer with Cherryly

Ireanous had an envelope in his pocket and handed it over.

“Did I hear you say that Rick Sandoval over in the Police Records office was somehow co

“He was in charge of collecting money for the details from the customers and paying it over to the cops.”

“I guess you guys took a cut.”

“Absolutely. We ran a legitimate business.”

* * *

As soon as his new client left, Tubby called Flowers.

“Tell me anything you can about Trey Caponata.”

“Hello to you.” Flowers’ voice was smooth, almost a like song, with a hint of a Spanish accent. “Caponata is a small time gangster as far as I know. A Mafia-wa

“My new client, Ireanous Babineaux, was his bodyguard.”

Flowers whistled. “That I didn’t know. Babineaux has not actually been a close friend of mine or anything. He has, however, been a source of valuable information for me over the years.”

“You paid him?”

“That’s an unusual question coming from you, Tubby, but, yes, in a ma

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry into your business. Why would Caponata need a bodyguard?”

“My guess is just for show. Want me to check him out more thoroughly?”

“Yes, I do. And also see what background you can get for me on the head of the police union. Archie, maybe Archibald, I don’t know, Alonzo.”

“Right. I can tell you right away that Alonzo is politically co

“Good. As soon as possible, please.”

“You got it. I’m glad to get back on a case with you.”

Tubby was glad, too. The only problem was that Flowers was expensive. He had better bill this client regularly.

* * *

“Mister Boaz is on the line,” Cherryly

“Good morning, Jason.”

“It’s noon. I just won three thousand dollars at the off-track. I’m about to walk into Galatoire’s 33 and buy a steak. You want to be my guest?”

Tubby certainly did.

“Out to lunch,” he shouted to Cherryly

* * *

She had been waiting to tell him about her trip to the library. It was so frustrating to be in the middle of some real detective work and have to sit on your hands. Mister Dubo

“Is Dubo

“I’m sorry, sir, but he’s out. Who’s calling?”

“This is Officer Sandoval at Police Records. When will he be back?”

“I’m afraid he’s in court and may be gone for hours.”

“I’ve got something for him.”

“If you tell me what it is, I’ll be sure to let him know when he gets back.”