Read Online [Bayou Gavotte 03.0] Heart of Constantine by Barbara Monajem - Free Book Online

Pontificating Turd, messing with his cell phone. It looked like he was surfing the Internet. “The question is, how does he do it?”
    “Clever lighting and a lot of people on drugs,” said Lavonia. “You’ll have to make sure no one comes to your meetings stoned, Eaton. That would skew your data.”
    “You have to ask Dufray to attend!” The Turd’s tone had grown feverish. “You could have him explain how it works. They’re not all on drugs. I’ve interviewed hundreds of fans. It might have to do with mass hypnosis, but my personal feeling is that he manipulates his aura.”
    “You’ll have to time your meetings for right after they spray for mosquitoes,” Myra said. “We’ll get a spraying schedule from the city. Just make sure there’s no drinking, no drugs, no littering, no sex, no running up and down the mounds. I’ll hold you fully responsible for any damage.”
    “Once you’ve got Dufray here and he’s done his thing, I’ll interview him,” said the Pontificator. “He won’t be able to refuse when it’s under the aegis of the university.”
    “That didn’t work for you before,” Lavonia said. “Maybe Constantine’s not interested in your study.”
    Constantine gave her a thumbs-up and picked a baby acorn. The squirrel objected loudly. “Hush,” Constantine said, crawling slowly along the branch toward the perimeter of the tree’s vast spread. A red-shouldered hawk circled lazily overhead, and Constantine felt it laughing. His spirit guide must have gotten tired of inhabiting a crow.
    “How can he not be interested?” demanded the Pontificator. “He’ll be reported in all the parapsychology journals and maybe some of the less prejudiced scientific ones. He’ll be invited to conferences, give demonstrations, get the respect and admiration—no, the adulation—of thousands. How can he not want that?”
    “He already has that,” said Eaton. “Much as I’d like to consult him about Native American rituals, I can’t have him here. He would distract the participants, and if he really is telepathic, like they say, he’d skew my study as much as drugs would—maybe more.” He wandered out from under the tree, gazing into the distance and humming to himself.
    Constantine gave Eaton a thumbs-up, too.
    “You just don’t care, do you?” the Pontificator bellowed. “You don’t give a shit about truly important work.”
    Constantine leaned over and dropped the acorn directly onto the monochrome yellow head.
    “Ouch!”
    The squirrel scolded Constantine again and scurried to the tip of its branch.
    “It must have been that squirrel,” said Lavonia.
    Another thumbs-up. Constantine selected another acorn and bided his time.
    “I’ll get an interview out of him if it’s the last thing I do. It’s criminal, the way he’s thwarting the cause of science, and you’re just as bad, Wilson. As for the people who call and deliberately mislead me—” The Pontificator gaped at the screen on his cell phone. “What the hell? This is Marguerite!” With a shaking hand, he shoved the display toward Lavonia. “
She’s
the woman who was here with Dufray?” He got right in her face. “You knew, didn’t you? She’s going out with him, and you didn’t tell me! Everybody’s against me, and you’re as bad as all the rest.”
    Lavonia put up her hands. “Calm down, Roy. She’s not going out with him. She got caught in a publicity stunt and went along with it. What else would you expect? She’s a major fan.”
    “But she
knows
him now. Finally, a breakthrough! She’ll be able to get me an interview!” He pumped a fist. “Yes!”
    “I doubt it,” Lavonia said. “She’s not planning to pursue the acquaintance. She’s a sensible girl, and she knows he’s a dangerous man.”
    Her words fell on deaf ears, judging by the way the Pontificator was capering about. Constantine stifled a twinge of dismay.
Not afraid of me, huh?
    The hawk wasn’t fazed.
You give up way too easily
.