“Went off the road into a canal. Early this morning,” Leo said, “out on the Chef highway.” He looked over at the death certificate again. “I see your friend was married. Lived in Kenner.”

“Is that right?”

“Only he had somebody else in the car with him. A young lady,” Leo said. “How’d you like to be his wife and you’re told that?”

Jack said, “Well, that can happen, I guess.”

“No matter how careful you are?”

“Maybe I was wrong,” Jack said. “Maybe he wasn’t careful. Or he was at one time but going through the windshield changed him. I don’t know anything about him, what he’s been doing.”

“Sounds like we have a touchy subject here.” Leo turned to check the pressure gauge on the Porti-Boy machine.

Jack knew he should leave, right now; but he continued to look at Buddy. “What happened to the person that was with him?”

“You mean the young lady that wasn’t his wife? The same thing that happened to your friend,” Leo said. “Cause of death, multiple injuries. Pick one. I’m surprised they didn’t do a post on ’em at the morgue. All they did was take some blood. The young lady’s out at Lakeview. You know where I mean? In Metairie, brand-new building. They must do two hundred funerals a year, easy. Mrs. Jeannette requested your friend be brought here. But you act like you don’t know her.”

“I don’t. I didn’t even know he was married.”

“How about the girl friend?”

“You mean the girl that was with him? What’re you trying to find out, Leo?”

“You know lots of girls. I just thought you might’ve known the one he had in the car.”

“Tell me what you’re getting at.”

“We’re talking about girls, Jack. What’s a good place to meet ’em these days?” Leo was reaching into the cabinet above the Porti-Boy now. “I hear the Bayou Bar at the Pontchartrain isn’t bad.”