Lancette read the story over Starrell’s shoulder. A Raymond DeNoefri had been found dead in his apartment in Foggy Bottom. He had been garroted. The police had no suspects yet. DeNoefri, the article reported, once had been arrested for writing bad checks. The photograph showed him standing on an apartment balcony next to a barbecue grill.

“So have you found who we were looking for?” she asked.

Starrell found the piece of paper on which Dunne earlier in the day had written his cellular phone number. That was when Dunne had hired Starrell to stake out the bar and watch for Raymond. Don’t say your name or mine or anything specific when you call this number, Dunne had instructed. Starrell told Dunne that anybody who spent time with the brothers in Bennington Gardens knew the badges could cop cell-phone conversations.

Starrell dialed the number.

“Got some four-one-one for you,” he said.

31 - New Orleans June 29

31

New Orleans June 29

The tendrils of sunlight passing through the wooden shutters woke up Addis. It was early and he lay in bed. He wondered what else there was to do? He could dig through corporate records to ascertain the various business connections of the individuals involved in the land deal. Verify if Hynes-Pierce had the story right. But sorting through financial records was not his specialty, and a news story about a senior White House aide appearing at a state office and requesting documents on local businesses would not be useful. That left Harris Griffith, the accountant.

Addis had gotten nowhere with Griffith’s lawyer. A trip to Mikolajczyk’s carried a high risk. Again, Addis had to consider the possible headline: “White House Official Visits Lawyer for S&L Accountant under Investigation.” It’s funny, he thought, most people assume that if you work in the White House you possess tremendous power. One could direct large amounts of campaign cash to political allies, help contributors contend with pesky federal bureaucrats, find jobs for friends, affect military actions, and, of course, shape legislation. But there were limits. An inquiry from Addis on almost any subject had the potential of blowing up into a controversy over undue, unlawful, or unethical White House interference. When Addis once called a friend at a Miami newspaper and asked her opinion of Wesley Pratt, another newspaper disclosed he was running a “secret White House intelligence-gathering effort.” Political power, he thought, is more easily exercised by those who do not appear on newsmagazine covers.

Addis did not have much to show for the trip. His top accomplishment was transmitting a blackmail threat from Hynes-Pierce. And the informal tangent to his informal mission—the confession and subsequent suicide of the itinerant laborer in Opelousas—should he have pursued that with more vigor? Drop by the sheriff’s office in a Podunk parish and say, “Hello boys, mind telling me if that suicide of a no-good child-killer was really a suicide? Or did you …” As if that would work.