The Hunt

"Up to you, Cher. If you think you can catch me."

Etienne looked down at her baby doll shoes with three-inch heels, and started laughing. "You at least done tonight I hope?"

She looked around at the sparse foot traffic. "Guess I am. Don't look like there's much goin' on now. Suppos'd ta meet Lolly and Alice at The Clover right 'bout now anyways."

"Huh. I'm headed the'ah m'self."

"Sho' that ain't coincidence, Cher. You can escort me t' keep me safe from the Monstah, for a lil' while least." Her tone suggested the idea was amusing.

"Sho' yo' right. After you." He held out a hand courteously in the direction he'd been heading and they walked side-by-side towards the port district.

The Clover looked to be empty when they arrived, but Etienne could see Flo had up the portable divider the diner used to screen off the back set of tables when they had a large dining party.

"Thanks kindly for the walk, Detective," Josephine said as they walked through the double glass doors, then she headed around behind the screen. Etienne sat at the empty lunch counter as Flo came out of the back with a plate in each hand. Eggs, bacon and grits, it looked like.

"Hey, darlin' be right with you," she said. She delivered the plates to the back, then returned to the counter and poured Etienne a cup of coffee. From midnight until six, Flo was the only one working, so she did both the cooking and waited on the customers.

"Anything to eat tonight?"

"Just coffee, thanks."

"Any luck out there?"

"Nothing going on, far as I can tell."

"Least we haven't had another since poor Nanette."

"Thank god," Etienne agreed, making the sign of the cross. For good measure, he spotted a few grains of salt on the counter, pinched them between his finger and thumb and threw them over his left shoulder.

"Alright honey. I gotta go make one more plate, back in a bit."

Etienne took a sip of coffee, then set his cup down and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to will away the incipient headache creeping up on him. This isn't working, he thought. Creeping around, watching all the hookers and trying to catch this guy in the act. The Quarter was too big, there were too many girls to keep an eye on. What can I do differently? Maybe if--

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud crash from the kitchen. He heard Flo's voice, sounding alarmed.

"Red, what are you doing here?!"

"This is my place! I don't need a reason to be here! I saw you got the screen up, you let them in here, didn't ya? Now get outta mah way!"

Red burst through the swinging doors of the kitchen, wearing a rumpled brown suit with a tear on the sleeve and the hem of his jacket, instead of his usual dirty t-shirt and apron, a heavy frying pan in his grip. He made a beeline for the back, grabbing the privacy screen and throwing it against the wall with a crash to reveal a very frightened Lolly and Alice. Josephine, however, looked to be simmering with anger rather than fear.

"You whores get the hell out of my diner!" he yelled. He raised the frying pan and pointed it at one of the large signs on the walls that read Whites Only.

"Red, stop!" Flo yelled, and tried to pull him back as he loomed over the frightened women's table. "There's no one else here! The nearest colored restaurant open at this time of night is a mile away in the Ninth Ward!"

"I don't give a shit! These colored girls ain't allowed in my place!" He said, angrily shaking off Flo's grip.

The three women grabbed their purses as they stood from the table. Lolly and Alice started moving quickly toward the door. Josephine didn't move, placing herself between the angry cook and the other women.

"You hear me, whore?" Red snarled, "I want you out!"

"Hear you jes fine, sir," she said, her voice dripping with insolence. "Jes makin' sho you don't do som'tin you might regret, afore my friends get safely outta he'ah."

Red's eyes widened with shock and anger as his face turned the color of his namesake, then he raised the frying pan and took a step toward her as Flo yelled, "Red, don't!"

Etienne, unnoticed by Red until now, stepped up behind him, neatly plucked the pan from the beefy man's grip, and with a twist of his wrist, sent him spinning him away from Josephine and crashing into a table in the process. Red caught himself awkwardly, managing not to go to the ground. His suit stank of cigarette smoke and Etienne could smell liquor on his breath from six feet away.

Red turned back towards him, snarling, and took a roundhouse swing at Etienne. Red was a veteran of World War Two, and carried quite a bit of muscle, but he was slow. Etienne was at least fifteen years younger, and easily dodged the powerful haymaker. Good thing too, as it probably would have laid him out, had it connected. He took another step back and flashed the badge inside his jacket to Red.

"Red, why don't we all calm down now?" He could see Red slowly realize who his new adversary was.

With the realization that a policeman was standing in front of him, the diner owner changed tactics. "Officer, these colored girls is breakin' the law, eatin' in here. I want 'em arrested!"

"Nah, don't think that's happening Red. They gon' go on their way and we gonna forget all 'bout tonight." Etienne tossed the pan on the ground in front of Red, where it landed with a loud clang.

"It's illegal for coloreds to sit in a whites only establishment! I want them arrested!"

"Fair 'nuff, you can make me do that, it's within your rights. Long as you know if I take them in, I'm also takin' you in for assaulting a police officer, with a side of drunk and disorderly. Now, you want that, or you want we just call it a night?"

Silence fell over the diner, broken only by the grinding of Red's teeth. Lolly and Alice were already nowhere to be seen. Josephine hadn't budged an inch.

"Fine," he hissed, picking up the frying pan from the floor, "but I want you outta here, whore!" He snarled, pointing the pan at Josephine. "I don't want to see you near here again!"

"Don't worry none, Sugar. Don't think you will." She turned and walked toward the door with her head held high.

"Someone needs to end your depravity! You and all t'others! Put an end to you parasites, sucking respectable white men dry! Put you in your place!" Red called after her. Then he turned on Flo, "And you, you're fired! Get the fuck out!"

Flo was pale, but said nothing in return. Etienne waited as she went behind the counter to collect her coat and purse, then walked her out.

"I ain't serving you no more either, Detective, you hear? I don't want you comin' back here again!" Red called to his back.

Etienne ignored him. He waited until Red locked the doors of the diner behind them before turning to Flo and Josephine. Alice and Lolly were nowhere to be seen.

"I'm real sorry that happened, ladies."

"Nothing I ain't used to, Detective." Josephine said. She nodded at Flo. "I'm sorry you lost yo' job, Miss Flo. It wuz kind o' ya to stand up fo' us."

"'Course, dearie. It's not the end of the world, I--" She paused as all the lights in the diner went out and she and Etienne turned to look at the windows. "Anyhow, I--"

When they turned back, Josephine was gone. They glanced in both directions but saw nothing but empty streets.

"What in the world?" Flo said, confused. "Where did she go?"

"Hang around her long enough, you'll get used to that, I'm guessin'. Although I still ain't," Etienne said with a chuckle. "Can I walk you home, or to the streetcar?"

"Thanks sweetie, I'd appreciate that. Not that The Monster is after a woman like me, but walking through empty streets in The Quarter in the middle of the night is enough to make a gal uncomfortable on a good day."

"Where do you live?" Etienne shook out a smoke and offered her one as they headed down the street towards a streetcar stop.

"The Garden District," she said, as he lit her cigarette for her. She noticed his raised eyebrows. "Don't think too much about that. I rent a one room apartment above a garage, owned by someone who can afford to live in the Garden. I can't afford to live there, or 'least I couldn't if not for the kindness of my landlord."

They walked in silence for a few blocks, then Etienne said, "So, I gotta ask, why'd you let those girls eat at The Clover anyways? You had to know if you ever got caught Red would fire you. Hell, Flo, you could have been arrested if the wrong cop was there in a bad mood."

"Can't someone be kind to someone else in a bad situation without a reason?" Flo snapped.

"Sure, they can," he said placatingly.

Another block passed before she spoke again.

"I... I used to work the streets. Like them," Flo said, quietly.

"What?"

She crossed her arms, hugging herself tightly. "My husband was killed on Iwo Jima."

"I had no idea, I'm sorry."

"We were married the day he got drafted. We were so young, I was just seventeen. Daniel was a kind man, but he wasn't the most detail oriented. He never got around to signing his G.I. life insurance before they went ashore, so I didn't get the ten thousand that most widows got. Wasn't long before I was a couple months behind on the rent. My landlord back then wasn't as kind as my current one. He came by demanding his money. When I didn't have it he said he was throwing me out... unless I wanted to... Well, let's just say he was my first trick, such as it was. Wasn't long before he, ah, referred a friend, then another and another. Not too long after I was working street corners."

"Flo, that's awful. I never had the first idea."

She pressed her lips into a thin line. "That's not something one generally wants to share about one's past, as you can imagine."

"I imagine not."

"Anyway, the white girls on the street don't tend to look out for each other the way the black girls do. They're too competitive. 'Least they were back then. I got sick that winter. Real sick. There were a couple black girls who worked the same blocks as I did, Sarah and Daisy. They took me in and cared for me until I was back on my feet. I never forgot that."

"So now you take care of the girls when you can."

"The least I can do."

"What happened to Sarah and Daisy?"

She looked down at the sidewalk. "Sarah died a few months after. Drugs they said. I don't know, I never saw her using, we just found her in her room. Daisy got out a few months later. Met a man at church who didn't hold her job against her. Said Daisy was the queen flower of his life's garden. They live in Huntsville now, have a mess o' kids. She encouraged me to try and get out too. But now, anytime I can, I look out for the girls who fall into that, one way or another. I try to give 'em any help or encouragement I can to get out too. Once you're in, it's hard to leave unless you can up and move somewhere that no one knows you. People can be so unforgiving."

"Lord, ain't that the truth." Etienne was silent for a long while. "I'm honored you trusted me enough to share that with me, Flo. Want you to know, I don't think any less of you. Think a little more of you than before, in fact."

"Thanks Etienne, I--" She was interrupted by the chirp of a police car siren behind them. They turned as a patrol car eased up next to them.

"Evenin', Detective Cheval," the officer in the car said through the driver's window.

"Hey Johnny, what's up?"

"Sorry to bother you. They put a call out over the radio a few minutes ago. They found a body. Can't find anyone from homicide yet, so they're looking for any detective who can take charge of the scene."

"Alright, where is it?"

"Behind the Carousel Bar, off Iberville and Royal. Joe Rouse has the scene secured."

Etiene cursed under his breath. Three blocks away. Had The Monster struck again while he was taking a break? "Okay, I'll get over there right now. I want you to take this young lady home in your car."

"You got it, Detective."

"Sorry Flo, duty calls."

"Thank you, Etienne. Lord, I hope it's not another one of our girls."

"Me too."

Officer Rouse was at the entrance to the alleyway next to The Carousel, ostensibly to keep curious onlookers away, but by now it was almost three in the morning and anyone still on the streets was drunk and looking to make their way home or to their hotels.

"Detective," Rouse nodded.

"Joe, what we got?"

"Bartender called it in. He was taking out the trash at closing and tripped over her body near the trash cans." He hooked his thumb down the alleyway. "Fontenot has the other end covered."

"Okay. Got a flashlight?" Rouse offered his flashlight, which Etienne switched on and headed into the alley.

She was next to the row of trash cans behind the bar's service door, her head bent over at the all-too familiar angle. Dammit. She was one of his. He wasn't sure of her name, but he knew she'd been busted a couple of times by the beat cops. He leaned down and felt her cheek with the back of his fingers. Still warm.

"God dammit!" he hissed to himself. She hadn't been dead that long, maybe an hour or even less. It almost certainly happened while he was walking to The Clover or sitting on his ass drinking coffee.

He stood and looked around. He'd managed to sneak a peek at some of the crime scene reports, stealing them back to his desk for a few moments when Ronaldo had left them out while he was at lunch. Ronaldo wasn't big on securing his case files. He used his old trick to recall what he'd read. When he was a rookie detective, his training partner had taught him to picture himself back where he'd read whatever he was trying to recall.

He closed his eyes and pictured himself walking back from Ronaldo's desk, the file in his hands. Imagining himself sitting in his chair, his favorite mug sitting on his blotter next to the black bakelite telephone. He pictured the brown folder opening... the words before him... He saw it clearly. No physical evidence on scene. No traces of a struggle, victim was attacked and killed likely in place and quickly on unmarked pavement.

"Dammit," he whispered again. He shone the light around looking around for anything of interest when he heard steps behind him. He turned and was greeted by the beam of another flashlight stabbing into his eyes.

"Get that out of my face!"

"Sorry," said Ronaldo. He lowered his beam to shine on the dead woman. "Another of yours?"

"Yeah," he sighed, "She's in the vice files, she--"

Ronaldo interrupted him with a chuckle. "At this rate The Monster is going to put you out of business, Etienne, he keeps killin' off all the whores in the quarter like this. You could sit at your desk and read the paper until retirement."

Etienne felt his face get hot. He fought the urge to yell, keeping his voice pitched low. "Look, Ronaldo, I know this is a low priority for you. That's how you wanna work it, fine, but I'm going to catch this guy and put him away. Enjoy your crime scene."

He turned and stalked away as Ronaldo called after him, "The fuck's your problem, Cheval?

~~ Six Days Later, Thursday, October 29th ~~

"C'mon now, you're telling me you've seen nothing?"

The doorman for The Carousel looked nervously up the alleyway. Etienne had agreed to talk to him around the corner from the bar entrance, not far from where the latest victim was found, to avoid patrons seeing him talking to a police detective.

"Listen, I can't be ratting out regulars to the cops just because I see them doing something shady after they've left here. Word gets out and we're outta business."

Etienne nodded sympathetically. "I hear you. I'm not asking for a list of anyone you think might be hiring hookers, I'm only asking if you saw anyone head out with this particular woman," Etienne said as he held up the photo of the victim again. The man looked at the photo once more. "Last Friday night..." he prompted him.

"I... I don't remember, I'm sorry Detective. I know I saw her working the block that night. I saw her talkin' to a bald dude in a seersucker, but didn't see her go off with him. Not down this alley, that's fo' sure." He looked down towards the trash cans and shivered.

"Can you describe the bald guy? Anything memorable about him?"

The doorman pondered a moment. "Not... just bald and old. Musta been sixty, sixty-five."

Crap, Etienne thought. "Okay, thanks. You remember anything else you call the station. Ask for me, no one else, got me?" he said, handing the doorman a card and a folded five-dollar bill.

"I got you, boss. Sorry I ain't more help."

Etienne lit a cigarette and started walking down Royal Street. Ain't no way a sixty-year-old man snapped that girl's neck like that, he thought. He cut over towards Chartres Street, in the general direction of Jackson Square. He was waiting for some cars to pass before he stepped off the curb when a familiar voice called out to him.

"Boss! Boss!"

He rolled his eyes in frustration before turning around.

"Evenin' Speedy, what's new?"

Speedy Jones was one of his main snitches on the street for drug sales. Seemed like he always had a line on whenever a new pusher moved into the Quarter. Etienne hadn't had time to work any leads in that area this month.

Speedy furtively looked around to make sure they couldn't be overheard. "Any plans to move on that mook I tol' ya about last week?"

"Not yet, things are pretty busy right now."

"C'mon Boss, you know I don't gets to collect my reward 'less you lock him up. I gots ta eat ya know?"

"The law doesn't work on your schedule, Speedy. Can only do what I can do."

"Look, pretty sure he's over working in Jackson Square right now. C'mon Boss, let me point him out, you can watch him do a deal and bust him tonight."

He looked at his watch "Alright, let's go see what's up." Drugs still are a part of my job, after all.

"Great, Boss, you won't regret it! I know you can bust him tonight!"

They walked along the sidewalk towards the Square, but as they approached Wilkinson Street, a muffled scream came from an alley across the way. Etienne took off running, nearly getting clipped by a car as he darted across the street.

The alley was almost pitch black, but he could see the silhouette of two figures struggling.

"Police! Stop!" He yelled at the top of his lungs as he charged towards them.

The larger of the two figures dropped the smaller one to the ground and fled down the alley. Etienne jumped over the prone figure on the ground to pursue the other man, but hesitated when he heard choking sounds and he skidded to a stop to check. It was a woman and she wasn't breathing.

"Whoa, Boss, what the hell?!" Speedy said, as he caught up with Etienne. A sudden dim light appeared as Speedy flicked his lighter. As dark as the alley was, the sudden glow of the tiny flame was more than enough for Etienne's eyes.

The woman on the ground was Alice, and she was clawing at her throat.

"Speedy, go find a patrol officer and tell them to get an ambulance here right now!" He leaned down and pulled open Alice's mouth. She'd swallowed her tongue. He used his finger to clear it and she gasped, then rolled over and vomited.

Etienne looked back up at Speedy, who was gawking stupidly at him.

"Speedy! Patrol officer! Right now!"

Speedy snapped out of his stupor. "Right Boss!" He turned around and ran towards the street.

Etienne flicked open his own Zippo and lit it. Alice had stopped throwing up and was gasping in huge lungfuls of air.

"Easy, Alice, take it easy. I got you."

The ambulance arrived fifteen minutes later. Etienne took Alice's statement before they left to take her to the hospital. Her neck was bruised and she could barely whisper but the ambulance driver assured Etienne she'd be okay.