Kent Conwell - Tony Boudreaux 04 - Vicksburg Read Online Free Page B

spoke up. “None of that, Jack. You take what
the old man left you”
    Reluctantly, Stewart agreed. “Yeah, but-” He struggled to find the right words, but when they didn’t come, he
shrugged.

    Jack glanced at me. I nodded to the adjoining dining
room. This family melee was driving me crazy. I cleared my
throat. “If someone would point me to the kitchen,” I said,
addressing the four of them, “I could use a drink of water.”
    WR nodded to the sideboard. In a gruff voice, he said,
“Here’s whiskey if you want some.”
    “Thanks. Maybe later.”
    “I’ll show you,” said Jack, leading the way through the
dining room. As he passed the dining room table, he picked
up a handful of unopened sympathy cards.
    Once in the kitchen, I drew a glass of ice water from the
refrigerator as Jack tried awkwardly to open one of the
envelopes. Seeing his frustration, I opened it for him.
    “Thanks.” He read it. “It’s from one of John’s friends.”
    I looked down at the other cards. “They haven’t been
opened.”
    Jack shrugged and gave me a sheepish look. “What can I
say? My family-” He struggled for the right words. “My
family is, well … you can see, they’re … different.”
    He would get no argument from me on that remark. No
wonder his father named someone outside the family as
executor. Without replying, I opened the other cards for him,
glancing at the return address if one was there. From the
eclectic sources of the cards, I guessed John Wesley Edney
was not only religious, but civic-minded also. There were
cards from churches, fraternal organizations, city agencies,
and various businesses as well as from numerous individuals. One that caught my attention was from the Madison
Parish Ornithological Society, headquarters, Richmond,
Louisiana.
    “Here,” I said, handing him the stack of open cards.
“Read them at your leisure. But now, we have to talk.”
    He arched his eyebrows in curiosity. “About what?”
    I sipped the water and glanced in the direction of the par lor. “First, you’re not to repeat to anyone, not even your
brothers or sister what I’m going to tell you. This is strictly
between the two of us for the present. You understand?”

    A frown wrinkled his forehead. “Yeah. I won’t. Don’t
worry. So what’s up?”
    I leaned forward. “I think you were closer to the truth
about your father’s death than you know.”
    “Why do you say that?”
    I lowered my voice. “Something is going on. I don’t know
what”
    “You find out something from Doc?”
    “First, someone either tried to kill me or scare me” I
quickly told him about the bag of cement. “I think maybe it
was meant to scare me, but I’m not sure”
    “Couldn’t it have been an accident?”
    “I don’t think so. According to Doc Raines, all the construction in that block was complete. There was no reason
for anyone to be on the roof, especially with a bag of cement
and in the rain.”
    “So, what does that have to do with my old man?”
    “I’m not sure, but one thing Doc said struck me as odd. I
need to verify it with the police, but according to the record,
your father started the fire when he struck a spark cleaning
his brass fireplace tools with naphtha”
    Jack stared at me, the blank look in his eyes testifying to
his lack of comprehension. “So?”
    I groaned. “So, Mr. College-Man School Teacher, a.k.a.
comedian, brass does not spark. It’s too soft. There’s no way
he could have caused a fire with naphtha and brass” I hastened to add, “Now, I’m not saying he might not have struck
a spark some other way, but one fact is certain. He did not
strike one with brass”
    Jack’s eyes grew wide. “You mean, maybe my hunch was
right? Somebody might have killed John?”
    “Maybe. That’s why I want you to keep quiet,” I replied,
thinking about my old friend on the Galveston Police force,
Ben Howard.

     

I’d worked with Ben several times over