"Andy Tugdale," Neely said."Hundred-and-forty-pound guard. Mean as a yard dog."
"That's him. We picked him up years ago for beatin' his wife, had him in jail for a few weeks. I played cards with him, somethin' I always do when we get one of Rake's boys in. I give 'em a special cell, better food, weekend passes."
"The perks of brotherhood," Paul said.
"Somethin'like that. You'll appreciate it when I arrest your little banker's ass."
"Anyway."
"Anyway, we were talkin' one day and I asked Tugdale what happened at halftime during the '87 title game.Clammed up, tight as a tick, not a word. I said I knew there'd been a fight of some sort. Not a word. I waited a few days, tried again. He finally said that Silo had kicked the coaches out of the locker room, told 'em to stay away from the sideline. Said there had been a rather serious disagreement between Rake and Neely. I asked him whatNeely had hit to break his hand.A wall?A locker?A chalkboard?None of the above.Somebody else? Bingo. But he wouldn't say who."
"That's great police work, Mal," Paul said. "I might just vote for you next time."
"Can we leave?"Neely said. "I don't like this story."
* * *
They rode in silence for half an hour. Still flying with all lights on, Mal appeared to doze occasionally as his ponderous breakfast got digested.
"I'll be happy to drive," Neely said after the car eased onto the gravel shoulder and flung rocks for half a mile.
"Can't.It's illegal," Mal grunted, suddenly wide awake.
Five minutes later he was fading again. Neely decided conversation might keep him awake.
"Did you bust Jesse?"Neely asked as he tightened his seat belt.
"Naw.The state boys got him." Mal shifted his weight and reached for a cigarette. There was a story to tell so he limbered up. "They kicked him off the team at Miami, out of school, barely got out with nojail time, and before long he was back here. Poor guy was hooked on the stuff and couldn't shake it. His family tried everything, rehab, lockdowns,counselors , all that crap.Broke 'em. Hell, it killed his father. The Trapp family once owned two thousand acres of the best farmland around here, now it's all gone. His poor momma lives in that big house with the roof crumblin'."