"St-Basile-le-Grand." An odd look crossed his face, but he said nothing.

"The two skeletons were later identified as members of an OMC cal ed the Tarantulas, defunct now, but active in the seventies and eighties."

"What about the girl's bones you found out there?"

"She has since been identified as Savannah Claire Osprey, from Shal otte, North Carolina. That's why I went to Raleigh. Savannah was sixteen when she disappeared in 1984."

"Who kil ed her?"

"I wish I knew."

"How did she end up here?"

"Same answer. Let me backtrack a minute. Before the discoveries at St-Basile-le-Grand, there was another murder. The sergeant at arms for the Vipers, a gentleman named Richard 'Spider' Marcotte, was shot in a drive-by outside his home. It may have been a Heathens hit in retaliation for Clic and Clac."

"That saved the taxpayers some money."

"Yes, but remember there was a tol exacted on the public. A child got caught in the cross fire."

"That's right. She was nine years old." His eyes were focused on my face. "She died, didn't she?"

I nodded.

"Emily Anne Toussaint was kil ed the day you and Howard dropped off Bird."

"Holy crap."

"Since that time I have been pursuing forensic evidence pertaining to these biker crimes. So you can understand my lack of enthusiasm for your newly acquired friends."

"And tattoo. You've seen some rough shit."

"There's more.

I glanced at his face. Though shadowed by the eaves, his eyes were bright as a songbird's.

"This past week another biker was kil ed. Yves 'Cherokee' Desjardins."

"Which side?"

"He was a Predator. That's the Angels."

"So the Heathens were stil evening the score for the twins?"

"Maybe. The problem is Cherokee was an older guy who hadn't been active for a while. Also, it seems he was running his own coke concession.

"So he might have been snuffed by his own side?"

"It's possible. We don't have al the evidence. We just don't know. Right now our investigation has slowed."

I told him about LaManche.

"Holy shit. Maybe they got to him, too.

"Who?"

"The Angels. Maybe he was going to find something in that body they didn't want found."

"I don't think so, Kit."

"Maybe they slipped him something. You know, one of those poisons that leave no trace.

"He was in the autopsy room. That's a secure area.

"There could be a mole at your lab. They do that, you know, position their people on the inside."

"Whoa." I laughed. "Let's not get carried away."

He turned and looked past the Japanese tourists to the misty peaks in the far distance. Someone opened a door behind us and pigeons startled from the steps.

"Jesus, Aunt Tempe, I feel like a real lowlife. Your boss is sick, and you're trying to juggle a zil ion separate murders al at once. And what do I do? I show up, dump a dead fish on your counter, then run around town having fun."