“Can you as3 extend movieclip believe that? The street pukes not only had the bad luck to rob and destroy Sidney Kovick’s house, the money they got out of it is counterfeit.”

His account had been long and circuitous, which was always Clete’s method of avoiding an admission of some kind. “I want as3 extend movieclip to take a bath in lye water. Ever since Katrina hit, I’ve been hearing the sound of little piggy feet running for the trough. Washington insiders are down here by the shitload. Now I’m as dirty as they are.” I tapped him between the shoulder blades with the flat of my fist. “You’re the best of the best, cletus. Give the bills back to Courtney Degravelle and tell her to turn them over to the FBI. Stay away from Sidney. End of story.” Snuggs did as3 extend movieclip a u-turn, bumping his tail across Clete’s face, waiting for Clete to scratch him between the ears. IN THE MORNING I called Betsy Mossbacher’s extension at the FBI office in Baton Rouge and got her voice mail. “Sidney Kovick as3 extend movieclip may have had counterfeit money stashed in his house. Some bills washed up in an alley down the street. Again, I’m not sure they’re his. Good luck,” I said.

I hoped as3 extend movieclip I would not hear from Betsy for a while. She rang back three minutes later. “How do you know about these bills?” she asked.

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