Read Online Southern Charm by Stuart Jaffe - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Stuart Jaffe
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Fantasy, Horror, Paranormal, Magic, Mystery, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Genre Fiction, Ghosts, Paranormal & Urban, Occult, north carolina, winston salem, korners folly
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Only I didn't.
"'Back then, you see, back during the Depression, sometimes people were removed from their homes rather quickly. Sometimes there were robberies, and sometimes there were deaths. The point is that sometimes people who shouldn't have certain items, who couldn't dream of affording such things, found them falling into their possession.'"
Impatient, Max gestured to the empty chair. "Is there a reason you find it so difficult to admit you had some stolen property? You're dead. The police can't get you now."
"'I still have my name, my pride. But I see you don't care about those things. Fine. Through connections that don't matter to this case, I came to own a certain painting.'"
"Just a wild guess, but was it called Morning in Red? '"
"'No, but I'll get to that painting in a moment. The painting I had come across, well, I didn't know anything about art back then, but I was sure it was worth something. It wasn't by any artist I knew, it wasn't going to make me rich, but it was a beautiful painting and I thought to myself, there must be some way to make some money from this. That was a common thought back then — thought it about pretty much everything.
"'I put out word about the painting in the few places I knew. Then along came Howard Corkille.'"
Max didn't need Sullivan's nervous presentation to see where things went to next. After all, Corkille, the real Corkille, was an art forger. He, no doubt, recognized some worth in the painting and offered Jasper Sullivan a unique proposal. Corkille would make an identical painting, and they would sell it. Using Corkille's established connections, they would receive far more than Sullivan could acquire on his own, and splitting the profits even at an unfavorable 70/30 split would net Sullivan handsomely. Plus, Sullivan would retain the original painting.
Thinking about the other interested parties in this case, Max said, "I'm guessing Corkille sold the painting to a member of the Hull family."
"'William Hull.'"
Drummond patted the empty space as if consoling. "He was a dangerous man. You're not the first to be hurt by him nor the last ... that's right, William Hull was responsible for turning me into a ghost, too."
"Wait," Max said. "Hull killed you?"
"You knew that."
"Not you. Sullivan."
Sandra continued to translate. "'Not Hull directly. He had a hired hand take care of it. You see, he found out about the painting. I never learned how Hull knew. Maybe he knew his art that well, maybe Corkille screwed up doing the forgery, or maybe — probably — Corkille betrayed me. After all, I never saw the painting again. Corkille disappeared, the painting disappeared, and only Hull remained. It doesn't matter now, though. Hull figured it out. I'm sure you can imagine how he reacted.
"'I was frightened, and I wanted to protect Clara and my unborn child and, looking back, I was a bit of a coward. No, I was a lot of a coward. So, I did go to that tobacco field. I got drunk on cheap wine. And I did bring my gun. I planned to kill myself. I figured that would end Hull's interest in me and leave my family out of the matter.
"'But I couldn't do it. I couldn't pull the trigger. I sat in that field feeling the cold metal touching the skin on my head, and I kept picturing my dear Clara — how sad she would be when she found out what I had done. I saw how she would someday have to explain to my son what I had done. All I saw was pain. And I was afraid. I didn't know if there was an afterlife, but I figured if there was, I wouldn't be going anyplace good. And then I felt a hand cover mine. This hand that took hold of the gun, the one I told you saved me — the truth is that the hand belonged to Hull's man. He helped me pull the trigger.'"
Max jotted a few points down. "So, you and Howard Corkille try to pass off a forgery on Hull and it gets you killed. This certainly fills in some gaps, but you said the painting wasn't Morning in Red . So why did you hire us to find that one?
"'Back then, you see, back during the Depression, sometimes people were removed from their homes rather quickly. Sometimes there were robberies, and sometimes there were deaths. The point is that sometimes people who shouldn't have certain items, who couldn't dream of affording such things, found them falling into their possession.'"
Impatient, Max gestured to the empty chair. "Is there a reason you find it so difficult to admit you had some stolen property? You're dead. The police can't get you now."
"'I still have my name, my pride. But I see you don't care about those things. Fine. Through connections that don't matter to this case, I came to own a certain painting.'"
"Just a wild guess, but was it called Morning in Red? '"
"'No, but I'll get to that painting in a moment. The painting I had come across, well, I didn't know anything about art back then, but I was sure it was worth something. It wasn't by any artist I knew, it wasn't going to make me rich, but it was a beautiful painting and I thought to myself, there must be some way to make some money from this. That was a common thought back then — thought it about pretty much everything.
"'I put out word about the painting in the few places I knew. Then along came Howard Corkille.'"
Max didn't need Sullivan's nervous presentation to see where things went to next. After all, Corkille, the real Corkille, was an art forger. He, no doubt, recognized some worth in the painting and offered Jasper Sullivan a unique proposal. Corkille would make an identical painting, and they would sell it. Using Corkille's established connections, they would receive far more than Sullivan could acquire on his own, and splitting the profits even at an unfavorable 70/30 split would net Sullivan handsomely. Plus, Sullivan would retain the original painting.
Thinking about the other interested parties in this case, Max said, "I'm guessing Corkille sold the painting to a member of the Hull family."
"'William Hull.'"
Drummond patted the empty space as if consoling. "He was a dangerous man. You're not the first to be hurt by him nor the last ... that's right, William Hull was responsible for turning me into a ghost, too."
"Wait," Max said. "Hull killed you?"
"You knew that."
"Not you. Sullivan."
Sandra continued to translate. "'Not Hull directly. He had a hired hand take care of it. You see, he found out about the painting. I never learned how Hull knew. Maybe he knew his art that well, maybe Corkille screwed up doing the forgery, or maybe — probably — Corkille betrayed me. After all, I never saw the painting again. Corkille disappeared, the painting disappeared, and only Hull remained. It doesn't matter now, though. Hull figured it out. I'm sure you can imagine how he reacted.
"'I was frightened, and I wanted to protect Clara and my unborn child and, looking back, I was a bit of a coward. No, I was a lot of a coward. So, I did go to that tobacco field. I got drunk on cheap wine. And I did bring my gun. I planned to kill myself. I figured that would end Hull's interest in me and leave my family out of the matter.
"'But I couldn't do it. I couldn't pull the trigger. I sat in that field feeling the cold metal touching the skin on my head, and I kept picturing my dear Clara — how sad she would be when she found out what I had done. I saw how she would someday have to explain to my son what I had done. All I saw was pain. And I was afraid. I didn't know if there was an afterlife, but I figured if there was, I wouldn't be going anyplace good. And then I felt a hand cover mine. This hand that took hold of the gun, the one I told you saved me — the truth is that the hand belonged to Hull's man. He helped me pull the trigger.'"
Max jotted a few points down. "So, you and Howard Corkille try to pass off a forgery on Hull and it gets you killed. This certainly fills in some gaps, but you said the painting wasn't Morning in Red . So why did you hire us to find that one?
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