Donny looked up at the guy when he said that. Blonk was tall, a few sizes taller than Donny, more than a few years younger, and a good bit whiter. His English was almost perfect, but you could hear the waffles in the vowels.

“Interpol?” said Donny. “Does that even still exist?”

Donny didn’t leave the country much. For most of the last decade, it had been illegal to do so without a special visa.

“Oh, yes,” said Deputy Commissioner Abboud, in crisp but French-accented English. She was shorter than Donny, and darker. Closer to Donny’s age, with the years in her eyes. “More than ever.”

“We would like to ask you some questions,” said Inspector Blonk.

“About what?” said Donny. He looked at his watch, as if he had somewhere to go.

“We are detailed to the UN Office of the Special Rapporteur for Extrajudicial Executions,” said Blonk.

“The what?”

“We investigate war crimes,” said Abboud.

“Excellent,” said Donny, realizing how much he meant that, excited and relieved at the possibility of some help with his case from real investigators with real resources. “Come on in.”

He took them to the conference room. It was small and messy, but not as messy as his office. He grabbed the files he had spread out on the table and set them atop one of the stacks of file boxes along the wall. There was one piece of art hanging there, a black-and-white photo of a man in nineteenth-century clothing standing by a wooden bridge with a big hammer in his hands and a funny-looking cowboy hat on his head.

“That is Victor Considerant,” said Abboud, pointing at the photo. “The Frenchman.”

“How did you know?”

“There was a little exhibit about him in the hotel. Very interesting bit of local history.”

“He was on to something,” said Donny. “Some days I like to imagine if the Dallas he had tried to build had become real.”

“It was real, for a while, from what I read,” said Abboud.

“Not for long,” said Donny. “Dallas is about as far from a socialist utopia as you can get.”

“Yes, well, utopia does not exist,” said Abboud. “Because people are thieves at heart. Or you and we would not be able to make a living.”

“They’re making a pretty good run at it in New Orleans,” said Donny.

“You think so?” said Abboud. “They may be good at the rewilding, but their justice system is a step backwards if you ask me.”

“That’s partly my fault. I used to work with them, and helped them come up with the basic outline for their new code. But we had a falling-out, and they took it in their own direction.”

“They share your American proclivity for violence, and that will be their undoing, just as it was for the prior regime.”