Tony Dunbar - Tubby Dubonnet 02 - City of Beads
Page 20
“Well, okay if you do, okay if you don’t.”
“You know, Edith, I thought I might make a little contribution to Tulane in Potter’s name.”
“Really? That would be nice.”
“Yeah, I thought I’d contribute to the environmental law clinic.”
“It’s funny. I never thought Potter had the slightest interest in the environment until today when you told me about the affidavit he gave. I’m real proud of him for that.”
“He was a good man,” Tubby said.
“The best,” said Edith.
Driving away, Tubby sighed to himself about the $88,000 he was about to donate to Tulane. Easy come, easy go. Money couldn’t atone for the things one did in life, he knew. Who was going to forgive him for Leo Caspar? And who was going to forgive him for his old law partner, Reggie Turntide? The sunlight glanced off the strand of beads dangling from his rearview mirror and made a bright shimmering circle on the seat beside him. But they didn’t give him an answer.
The morning paper reported that Joseph Caponata, reputed organized crime figure, had been struck and killed by a car while crossing Frenchmen Street. Ironically, the Criminal Sheriff of Orleans Parish, Frank Mulé, and several police officials were dining at a nearby restaurant and were among the first to arrive at the scene. Caponata’s presence on the normally quiet street was not explained. Police declared the accident a hit-and-run.
Tubby called Tania at work. He had to stay on hold for a minute, but then she came on the line.
“I wondered if you might like to have lunch one day.”
“Why, of course, Tubby. I’d like that very much.”
“I could drive by the bank and pick you up. We could go out to the lake and maybe get some seafood.”
“That sounds nice.”
“Or even Uptown. Go to The Columns, take a walk in the park. That could be fun.”
“That sounds nice, too.”
“Or maybe we could just go grab a sandwich at Mr. Mike’s bar.”
“That sounds best of all.”
“Really?”
“It will always have a special meaning for me.”
“Did you know I was buying the place?”
“Lovely,” she said. “I’ll meet you there. I have something to tell you.”
Tania brought Pastor Green along with her. Tubby was surprised, but rose to shake hands when Tania introduced them. Tubby was drinking a beer, and he asked Tania and the reverend what they would like. Both said tea.
Tubby went over to the bar to ask Larry if they had any while the newcomers looked around to get the feel of the old place.
“Yeah, sure we got tea,” Larry said. He pulled a jar of instant from under the counter. “I’ll bring it to you.”
Tubby returned to the table.
“You are Tania’s pastor?” he asked Reverend Green.
“Yes,” he said. “She practically runs the church.”
“That’s hardly true, Reverend,” Tania said modestly.
The pastor continued. “She has told me about how much help you have been.”
“She’s had a hard time. She deserved help,” Tubby said, avoiding the compliment.
“I have told the reverend what I told you,” Tania said. “About Charlie Van Dyne.”
“I see,” Tubby said. “Then you know she may still be in danger. I’ve tried to, uh, fix things, but…” He didn’t continue.
“She and I have prayed about that,” Reverend Green said. “We have discussed her turning herself in to the police.”
“Well, that’s her decision,” Tubby said. “If she wants to, I will arrange it beforehand and go with her.”
“Yes, surely,” the pastor said. He looked convinced that he was about to say something undeniably correct. “But we decided no. Her family has been harmed in a terrible way and should not have further pain. What she did was just, and though it may have been wrong to take the law into her own hands, she has repented. In our faith, we believe in forgiveness.”
“Fine,” Tubby said, “I have no problem with this. Why are you telling me, though?”
“Because we want you to have this.” He took a blue check from his coat pocket and handed it to Tubby. It was for $5,000, and it was drawn on the account of St. Mary’s American Baptist Church.
“We had a fund-raiser at the church to pay for my legal defense,” Tania said happily. “We had a bake sale and a raffle for a console TV from Frankie and Johnny’s Furniture. Everybody contributed.”
“I can’t take this,” Tubby protested. “What did you tell them it was for?”
“You can take it, Mr. Dubonnet,” Reverend Green said. “And we didn’t have to tell anybody in the congregation what it was for. They all knew. We all thank you for what you did to put a stop to the torments of Sister Thompson.”
Tubby stared at the check.
“There’s more good news,” Tania said. “Me and Pastor Green are getting married.”
Tubby looked at Tania’s big grin, then at Pastor Green’s hard smile, and he put the blue check into his pocket.
Larry brought the tea.
“Women are fickle,” Tubby told Raisin, hoisting a cold dark beverage high in the air and swallowing deeply. The world had gone from sharp to soft to fuzzy.
“No argument here,” Raisin said, absently spinning his green Heineken coaster on the bartop.
“I mean, what’s the point?”
“Don’t ask me,” Raisin said, “I’ve never even been married.”
“You’re better off,” Tubby said.
“You mean that?” Raisin asked. He flipped the coaster into the air and caught it on the back of his hand.
“No, I guess not. Of course not,” Tubby added.
“You got some great daughters out of the deal.”
“That’s for sure,” Tubby said. “But when I see them, sometimes, it hurts to remember how me and Mattie messed things up so bad.”
“Well, that was her fault,” Raisin said.
“You think so?” Tubby asked.
“Why, sure,” Raisin said. “She’s crazy.”
“Maybe, but I haven’t had much luck with anybody else.”
They drank in silence for a minute, then Raisin got up and put some money in the jukebox. The voice of Marvin Gaye singing “Sexual Healing” filled the barroom.
“Is that supposed to be some kind of message?” Tubby asked when Raisin got back to his stool.
“No, I just like it. Don’t worry, I got Frank Sinatra coming up next.”
Tubby ordered them both another drink.
“It’s just that women are so damn fickle,” he repeated.
“They’re not much good, are they?”
“No good at all.”
“Thing is, you get fond of ’em.”
“That I do,” Tubby said, and put a few bills on the bar.
“Enough heavy thinking. Let’s go play some pool.”
“Suits me,” Raisin said. “Rack ’em up.”
CHAPTER 38
Tubby saw the familiar figure clad in her pink raincoat sitting on her folding chair down by the jail. He went up to her, shuffling his feet so she wouldn’t get caught by surprise again.
“Hi, Miss Pyrene,” he said.
“It’s the lawyer,” she exclaimed, giving him a toothless smile, partly covered by her wrinkled hand.
“You saw Jerome?” he asked.
“Yes, and I was so happy. My prayers were answered. You are a fine young man yourself.”
“It was nothing,” Tubby said modestly.
“Seeing him again was the most wonderful day of my life.”
“I’m glad for you. I hope he straightens up. What are you still waiting here for? You don’t have to look for him to come out that door anymore.”
“This place suits me now,” she said. “Nobody bothers me, and the business is pretty good. And I’m here to watch when they take all those young men in. Some of ’em I know from when they were babies. I wave at them even
if they don’t see. And I like to think I’ll be here when they get out.”
“I’m sure that means a lot to them,” Tubby said. He asked if he could have two pralines.
He searched in his pants pocket for his wallet, and his fingers encountered the strand of beads he had found on Bourbon Street.
How had they gotten there?
“You want some beads?” he asked, showing them to her.
“They’re pretty nice,” she said, and took them into her palm where she could inspect them.
“Yes, I believe I will keep them.” She looked up and her eyes, to him, seemed wise and kind. “You’re all right for a lawyer,” she said.
“Thank you very much.” It gave him a peaceful feeling to hear that.
“You sure seem to love my candy,” she said.
“Yeah, I like all the nuts,” he replied.
The pink arms flew up. Her hands covered her mouth as she laughed.
He joined in.
THE END
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Many thanks to Carrie Lee Pierson, Steven Grover, Martha Crocker, and Jon Graubarth, ingenious people who unraveled for me some of the mysteries of the computer; to Chris Pepe, my editor, Kristin Lindstrom, my agent, and Doug Magee, my friend, for their good humor; and to Linda Kravitz, Brenda Thompson, Mary Price Robinson, Anne Francis, and Philip Carter, who read my early drafts and gave all the kind advice a writer could want.
If you enjoyed this book, let us keep you up-to-date on all our forthcoming mysteries. Sign up for our newsletter at www.booksbnimble.com
Simply click the image above to watch the video
or paste this address into your web browser:
http://bit.ly/IpurVw
The first Tubby Dubonnet mystery is CROOKED MAN. Find out about it and others at www.booksbnimble.com and www.tonydunbar.com
TUBBY DUBONNET MYSTERIES
Crooked Man, G.P. Putnam’s (New York, 1994)
City of Beads, G.P. Putnam’s (New York, 1995)
Trick Question, G.P. Putnam’s Sons (New York, 1996)
Shelter From the Storm, G.P. Putnam’s Sons (New York, 1997)
The Crime Czar, Dell Publishing (New York, 1998)
Lucky Man, Dell Publishing (New York, 1999)
Tubby Meets Katrina, NewSouth Books (Montgomery, 2006)
Other Books by Tony Dunbar
Our Land Too, Pantheon Books (New York, 1971); Vintage Books (New York, 1972)
Hard Traveling: Migrant Farm Workers in America, Ballinger (Cambridge, 1976; Co-Authored with Linda Kravitz)
Against the Grain, University Press of Virginia (Charlottesville, 1981)
Delta Time, A Journey through Mississippi, Pantheon Books (New York 1990)
Where We Stand, Voices of Southern Dissent (Editor), NewSouth Books (Montgomery 2004), Foreword by President Jimmy Carter
American Crisis, Southern Solutions: From Where We Stand, Promise and Peril (Editor), NewSouth Books (Montgomery 2008), Foreword by Ray Marshall
And don’t miss ENVISION THIS, a new Tubby Dubonnet short story!
www.booksbnimble.com
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
TONY DUNBAR is a lawyer and the author of the Tubby Dubonnet mystery series set in New Orleans. The seventh episode, Tubby Meets Katrina, was the first novel set in the city to be published after the storm. He is the winner of the Lillian Smith Book Award, and his mysteries have been nominated for the Anthony and the Edgar Allen Poe “Edgar” Awards. He has also written non-fiction books about the South and civil rights and has lived for more than thirty years in this beautiful and complicated city.