EXCERPT FROM

After leaving the Times-Picayune offices, I headed over to Perdido Street to visit the Office of Safety and Inspections in City Hall. The discrepancy between the date of the electrical inspection on the building where Scott Everidge was found, and his apparent interment, intrigued me.

I must have been early, because there were only two other people in the Electrical Permits office. One of them worked there. He was balding and slightly overweight. One of his eyes pointed in a slightly different direction than the other.

I walked up to the counter and extended my hand.

“I’d like to check into some electrical inspections on some of the Anolli Construction Company projects,” I said.

He turned pale, and immediately looked over toward the other man in the office.

“Back here,” he said, motioning me around the counter.

He led me back to an office on the other side of the wall, and escorted me inside. Then he closed the door.

“What in hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked.

I started to answer, but it finally seeped through my skull that I wasn’t really certain.

“What’s the problem?” I asked, playing along.

“You don’t just walk in and announce that you’re here about Anolli inspection arrangements. We’ve never done anything like that before.”

“Sorry,” I said. “How should I have done it?”

“Don’t they tell you anything?”

Before I could say another word, he opened his desk drawer.

“Which building is it?”

I recited the address of the building on Toulouse next to Holliday’s.

“Isn’t that where they found that mummy the other day?”

“You read the papers,” I said.

“When it pertains to building problems, yes.”

He closed the drawer and looked at me.

I looked back at him.

We looked at each other for several seconds. I hoped he enjoyed it more than I did.

“The money?” he asked. He seemed irritated.

“The money?” I repeated.

“Didn’t they send it with you?”

“Sorry. Guess they didn’t.”

What in hell was going on here?

“What are you trying to pull?” he asked. “You think we’re going to do this without something up front? You can go back and tell Angelica that we aren’t changing things at this late date.”

“Angelica?” I asked. “You mean, Angelica Anolli?”

“Who do you think I mean?”

“I guess you mean Angelica Anolli.”

“You tell her that if she wants to continue our… arrangement, she needs to follow the procedures. We can’t go around improvising this sort of thing.”

“I can see that would be a bad idea,” I said.

Slowly, I was beginning to figure it out.

“I’ll pass it along,” I said.

“See that you do. As it is, I’m going to have to send this on up the line. I’m certain he’ll want to talk with Ms. Anolli too.”

I leaned forward, and tried to look menacing.

“Don’t do that,” I said.

“What?”

“Don’t send it up the line. I’d hate to get Ms. Anolli in trouble because of something that might be my fault. Maybe I got my wires crossed, okay? Tell you what. Let me go back, talk with her a little, see if I can get this straightened out.”

“Well…” he said.

“C’mon,” I said. “Be a pal.”

I glanced at his nametag. It read Gary Tate.

“What do you say, Gary?” I asked.

I noticed his fingers twitch a little, and I knew I had him. When Pat the Jolly Irish Giant comes to call, they all crumble sooner or later.

“I…guess it would be all right. Just this once.”

I let him convince himself that he still had a little control over the situation, and I excused myself.

I got into the car and thought things over a little.

Gary Tate had obviously been expecting a payoff, and he thought I was representing the Anollis. Apparently, paying off city officials was a long tradition in the Anolli family, and I’d stumbled onto it by accident.