Read Online Tony Dunbar - Tubby Dubonnet 02 - City of Beads by Tony Dunbar - Free Book Online
Authors: Tony Dunbar
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been too strong for Potter.
But he hadn’t seen any indicators that Potter desperately needed cash. They had sent the books over to a CPA, Jerry Molideau, to review, and the preliminary report was that the company had good funds in the bank. Tubby had collected the legal documents from Edith, who got them out of her safe-deposit box, and they showed that Export Products had leased its spot on the wharf from the New Orleans Levee Board, that the company had options to renew running fifteen more years, and that the rent was current.
Edith had put Broussard back to work processing the last of the oil shipments Potter had secured. With the boss gone, no new contracts were being bid. Broussard was shutting things down. It stood to reason that if the police had found drugs in a dead man’s office they would be checking the barges that were still passing through. And if they had found anything big, there would no longer be a secret about drugs. Edith would at least have been questioned. The whole thing didn’t make sense, but it raised disappointing questions about Potter.
CHAPTER 10
Tania had the gun in her purse when she stalked Charlie Van Dyne on Tuesday and again on Wednesday night. She lacked confidence in her aim, since the only weapons training she had had was watching cop shows on television. There was no way that, seated in her car, she could hit the man when he came out of his front door, and she could not even picture herself hiding in a hedge and running across a lawn with a pistol in her hands. So she would get him at a restaurant.
On Tuesday night, however, he set off in a new direction and ended up at Clancy’s, which had valet parking. On Wednesday he went to the Upperline, which paid an off-duty policeman to hang around on the street.
But on Thursday she followed the Cadillac back to Derbigny Street and eventually back to the Bouligny Steak House. This historic establishment served one of the largest porterhouses in town, but the place was so old that almost all of its customers had died. It hadn’t yet been discovered by a young crowd so it was the perfect choice for an intimate meal. Like nobody else might be there. And if you really wanted isolation you could eat in a curtained booth. On this night neither valet nor lawman was visible in the parking lot.
Only one other car, maybe the cook’s, was there when the Cadillac pulled in. Both men got out at the same time. Tania watched from across the street, as she had once before. After half an hour of smelling beef grilling in the distance she started up, made a U-turn, and got closer. She slowly entered the lot and took the exact spot next to the Cadillac, on the passenger side. She switched off her lights. Except for the two other cars, the place was deserted. She got the .38 revolver out of her purse and warmed it up in her lap. It was fully loaded and the safety was off. She had checked those things a dozen times. It really took no genius to operate a hand gun. If you didn’t believe that, it was time for you to wake up and smell the coffee. That’s the way Dear Abby put it, and Tania read Dear Abby every morning at her breakfast table at her house.
She thought about other remarkable advice Abby had given to other troubled people, pregnant girls and women whose husbands snored, over all those years. Thus her mind stayed occupied while she waited for Charlie Van Dyne to finish his steak.
Abby was like Tania, caring but capable. Practical. Problems were to be confronted and handled. You did your best. A panicky doubt passed over her just then, that killing the man was the wrong thing to do. The feeling had come before, and she erased it in a second. What she was about to do was necessary for her well-being, it was that simple. It was fair, and it would make the world a better place. Thank you, Dear Abby.
Voices came suddenly from the front of the restaurant, and she saw Charlie Van Dyne and his manservant round the corner. They paused, as she had
But he hadn’t seen any indicators that Potter desperately needed cash. They had sent the books over to a CPA, Jerry Molideau, to review, and the preliminary report was that the company had good funds in the bank. Tubby had collected the legal documents from Edith, who got them out of her safe-deposit box, and they showed that Export Products had leased its spot on the wharf from the New Orleans Levee Board, that the company had options to renew running fifteen more years, and that the rent was current.
Edith had put Broussard back to work processing the last of the oil shipments Potter had secured. With the boss gone, no new contracts were being bid. Broussard was shutting things down. It stood to reason that if the police had found drugs in a dead man’s office they would be checking the barges that were still passing through. And if they had found anything big, there would no longer be a secret about drugs. Edith would at least have been questioned. The whole thing didn’t make sense, but it raised disappointing questions about Potter.
CHAPTER 10
Tania had the gun in her purse when she stalked Charlie Van Dyne on Tuesday and again on Wednesday night. She lacked confidence in her aim, since the only weapons training she had had was watching cop shows on television. There was no way that, seated in her car, she could hit the man when he came out of his front door, and she could not even picture herself hiding in a hedge and running across a lawn with a pistol in her hands. So she would get him at a restaurant.
On Tuesday night, however, he set off in a new direction and ended up at Clancy’s, which had valet parking. On Wednesday he went to the Upperline, which paid an off-duty policeman to hang around on the street.
But on Thursday she followed the Cadillac back to Derbigny Street and eventually back to the Bouligny Steak House. This historic establishment served one of the largest porterhouses in town, but the place was so old that almost all of its customers had died. It hadn’t yet been discovered by a young crowd so it was the perfect choice for an intimate meal. Like nobody else might be there. And if you really wanted isolation you could eat in a curtained booth. On this night neither valet nor lawman was visible in the parking lot.
Only one other car, maybe the cook’s, was there when the Cadillac pulled in. Both men got out at the same time. Tania watched from across the street, as she had once before. After half an hour of smelling beef grilling in the distance she started up, made a U-turn, and got closer. She slowly entered the lot and took the exact spot next to the Cadillac, on the passenger side. She switched off her lights. Except for the two other cars, the place was deserted. She got the .38 revolver out of her purse and warmed it up in her lap. It was fully loaded and the safety was off. She had checked those things a dozen times. It really took no genius to operate a hand gun. If you didn’t believe that, it was time for you to wake up and smell the coffee. That’s the way Dear Abby put it, and Tania read Dear Abby every morning at her breakfast table at her house.
She thought about other remarkable advice Abby had given to other troubled people, pregnant girls and women whose husbands snored, over all those years. Thus her mind stayed occupied while she waited for Charlie Van Dyne to finish his steak.
Abby was like Tania, caring but capable. Practical. Problems were to be confronted and handled. You did your best. A panicky doubt passed over her just then, that killing the man was the wrong thing to do. The feeling had come before, and she erased it in a second. What she was about to do was necessary for her well-being, it was that simple. It was fair, and it would make the world a better place. Thank you, Dear Abby.
Voices came suddenly from the front of the restaurant, and she saw Charlie Van Dyne and his manservant round the corner. They paused, as she had
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