Chapter 8 Lucien #2
But the location, sitting at the mouth of the Mississippi and next to Lake Pontchartrain, and right up against the Gulf of Mexico, meant that whoever controlled this land controlled all shipping in the area.
They dictated what came in and out, be it people or goods, and could charge whatever they wanted for the right to use the port.
And money, it turns out, trumps everything. Including whether a city should or shouldn’t be placed on land that can hardly hold it because it floods so often.
The Big Easy is therefore full of canals, levees, and underground tunnels that flood when the tides are high, and that should have been the end of it.
It wasn’t. Because men like me realized that the tunnels, when not flooded, meant an easy way to get around without anyone else seeing you.
Then they realized that you could also smuggle things underground, rather than taking the risk of keeping them on the surface.
And the rest, as they say, was history. These walls have seen everything from tobacco to cotton to the men and women they brought in to pick the cotton, and I’m sure they’ve seen things I haven’t even imagined.
Right now, I hope they’ll give up some of their secrets.
Like what’s happening to girls in Under the City.
I press my back to the wall behind me, snarling as the dampness of the rock seeps into my jacket, and motion toward Daniel.
He brought a few men with him, but not many.
We aren’t on official Boudreaux business, and are in the midst of infiltrating a Landry hot spot.
I might be the most important Boudreaux other than my father, but I still don’t want to be caught here.
Dom Landry and my father have been enemies since they were kids, and Dom’s hatred of the Boudreaux extends to me.
It eased up when I was set to marry Brooks, but Dom blamed me for her sudden exit from New Orleans, and I’ve never bothered to try to mend the relationship.
After all, I have plans to take him down one day. Why be friends with someone you intend to destroy?
“What’s the plan, boss?” Daniel breathes into my ear.
I consider the question for only a moment. We know a girl disappeared in a parking lot that held a truck labeled as belonging to Under the City. We know Dom Landry owns and runs the club, and I’ve heard rumors about the kind of clientele he invites here. But that’s it.
Part of me wants to rush into the club, guns firing and sword swinging, and demand to be shown the merchandise.
The bigger part of me prefers a more subtle route. Because unlike Dominick, I like to operate in the shadows.
It makes it easier to hide what you’re doing.
“We get to the club, find someone, and question them.”
Daniel is silent for a beat. “That’s it? Find someone and question them?”
I turn, grab his shirt, and push him against the wall. “Do you have a better idea, Daniel? Because I’m getting awfully tired of being told no one has information for me, and I’m doing my best with what little we have.”
His eyes shutter and he shakes his head quickly. “If I had a better idea, you’d already know it.”
“That’s what I thought.”
I drop his shirt and spin away from him, my eyes on the door to the club.
“It’s the middle of the day and the club is closed.
We’re not going to find bartenders or waitresses in there.
If someone is here, they’re doing something other than running the club.
And if our suspicions are correct, that will mean they have information for us.
And we’ll do whatever it takes to get that information. ”
No one answers me, but I assume they understand what that means.
Ten seconds later, I surge toward the door, my eyes racing through the space and my hand on my sword.
***
I slam the man back against the rough stone again, taking too much pleasure in the way his head sounds against the rock.
“Tell me what you’re doing here, Simon,” I growl. “Because the last time I checked, you didn’t exactly do entertainment. You’re not here to tend the bar or perform on stage. That’s not your bag.”
The man in front of me moans in pain and sags a bit, but I pull him up and force him to face me.
We found him quickly, thank God, and I recognized him immediately.
I’ve known Simon leBanc for a long time.
We ran scams together when we were kids, though we parted ways when I realized that he was from the wrong side of the tracks for what I had planned in life.
These days, he deals with shadier families than mine, doing deals that no decent man would consider.
Like drugs. Hired murders.
Girls.
He’s exactly the kind of man I’d expect to find tangled up in a trafficking ring, and the moment I saw him, I knew we had our quarry. Now we just need to get him to talk.
“I don’t know anything,” he says again. “Come on, man. You and me, we go way back.”
“Which means I know exactly what sort of person you are,” I answer casually. “Daniel, his fingers.”
“No!” Simon screams, but he has no say in the matter. Not really.
Before he can say anything else, Daniel’s picked up one of his hands, put it against the stone, and brought the butt of his gun down on the man’s forefinger, shattering it.
Simon screams and sags again, and I pin him harder to the wall.
“Tell me what you’re doing here, Simon,” I repeat. “Or you’re going to lose more than your fingers.”
“And you’re going to lose more than that if you keep poking around,” he snarls. “This is bigger than you, Boudreaux. Bigger than us both.”
I motion to Daniel and he singles out another finger.
“No!” Simon screeches. “I’m telling you everything I know.
This is big. Bigger than any New Orleans family.
And they’ll take you down without thinking twice.
Kill me if they even know I’ve spoken to you.
” He turns his head and meets my gaze, his eyes bloodshot and terrified.
“Stay out of this, or we’ll both lose our lives. ”
Suddenly I hear movement down the tunnel from us and freeze, my mind skipping through the possibilities.
It’s too early for the club to be opening, which means whoever that is might be smugglers.
Probably armed. I only have four men and we’re not heavily armed.
We’re not here on official Boudreaux business.
I’m not willing to get caught before I’m ready.
I lean toward Simon, furious at being interrupted. “I want to know what’s going on here, and I’ll rip the city apart to find out. Once I do, I’ll kill everyone involved. You tell that to your boss. See how he feels about having made an enemy of the biggest family in New Orleans.”
We turn and leave before the footsteps reach us, without anything but a possible location, and the knowledge that whoever is running this ring, they’re not hiring the best people. Simon leBanc is a mercenary. An outlaw. And if they’re using him, it’s because no honorable family will work with them.
This just got a whole lot more complicated. And I don’t like complications.