Red Beans and Vice

by Lou Jane Temple

  “I remember them seizing ten tons of that pseudoephedrine in Los Angeles last year. Even though it’s not a controlled substance, the DEA tracks big sales of it and they got ’em on a conspiracy beef.”

  “Conspiracy to manufacture meth?” Heaven asked.

  “Yeah,” Murray said, “which was a better collar than just possessing the pseudo stuff.”

  “Where did it come from, do you remember?”

  “Yeah. Mexico.”

  “Murray, I knew your memory banks would have something. You remember all kinds of news stories. Thank you.”

  “Why all the questions about meth?”

  “Supposedly a meth lab exploded down the street from the convent just as Truely was getting dead.”

  “That stuff is very volatile. Don’t get blown up,” Murray said jokingly, hoping Heaven would tell him there wasn’t a chance of that.

  “Don’t worry, you have to mix it together wrong to get it to blow up. Bye, now.” Heaven hung up quickly, not wanting a lecture from Murray. She shuffled the papers around on her lap absentmindedly, deep in thought.

  All of a sudden she realized the doorbell was ringing. She had so slipped into the ways of a house with servants, it hadn’t dawned on her that she should get the door. She rushed through the house and to her surprise it was the big man from the warehouse, the coffee tester, standing on the other side of the glass panes. She hesitated. In all the time she’d spent with Mary and Truely, which wasn’t all that much in the big picture, no one from the coffee business had come to the house. It was too late now. She couldn’t hide in the dining room or run upstairs. He surely had seen her coming down the hall toward the front door. And why did he give her the heebie-jeebies anyway?

  Heaven opened the door. This time she was determined to get his name. “Oh, hello there. We talked at the warehouse. I’m Heaven Lee. What’s your name?” She had given this speech without indicating the guy should step into the house. She hoped her body language showed she was in charge.

  “Durant la Pointe,” he said without a hint of a smile. Heaven could feel the hostility emanating from him. “Is Miz Whitten here?”

  “No, she’s not. Is there a problem at the warehouse?”

  Durant tilted his head. “If there was, would you be the solution to it, or the cause of it?”

  Heaven was taken aback. Did he know she’d burgled the place? “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You sure had plenty of questions the other day. Too many.”

  Heaven tried a coquettish smile, although her heart wasn’t in it. This guy was scaring her. “I’m like that. As to Mary’s whereabouts, I just got home myself and I’m not sure when she’ll get here. Do you want her to call you? Is there a message?”

  Durant looked around at the beautiful wicker furniture on the gallery. “I’ll wait,” he said and perched on the very edge of the nearest chair. It was like he hated the thought of sitting on that big, comfortable chair on that big, comfortable gallery.

  Heaven opened the door wider. “Mr. la Pointe, would you like to wait for Mary in the library?” The minute it was out of her mouth, she felt foolish. It sounded like a line from a Tennessee Williams play. Mr. la Pointe should have been followed by Mrs. Whitten. She should have called it the office instead of the library. More businesslike. How stupid. It would be a long time before she had the knack of Southern conversation. She was hoping not to be around long enough to cultivate it.

  Durant la Pointe looked at her with barely concealed contempt. “I’m fine right here.”

  “But when Mary comes home, she’ll pull her car into the back. She won’t see you out here. Come on in.” Heaven hoped there was a neutral but pleasant look on her face.

  Reluctantly, Durant got up and followed her in the house. Maybe he was as scared of her as she was of him. She smiled and indicated the library, stepping inside the room and waving her arm in the direction of two leather club chairs. “Make yourself comfortable. Would you like something to drink?” Heaven stopped herself before she said “something like lemonade,” which she had no idea if she could deliver.

  “Nothing,” Durant said and perched on a club chair as he’d done outside on the wicker.

  “Well, then,” Heaven said and swept out of the library, hoping her exit restored a little dignity to her persona. She wasn’t quite sure what to do next, so she went to the kitchen.

  When Mary bustled in the back door a few minutes later, Heaven was making cookies.

  “What in the world?” Mary said, her hands full of shopping bags.

  “I miss cooking so I thought I’d bake something. One of your employees is here waiting for you.”

  “One of my what?” Mary said as she unloaded her purchases on the kitchen table.

  “One of Truely’s employees from the coffee warehouse. Durant la Pointe. He’s in the library,” Heaven said.

  “Is something wrong at the warehouse?”

  “If it is he didn’t want to share it with me.”

  “Thanks, Heaven. I better go see what he wants.” Mary’s voice trailed off as she hurried down the hall.

  Heaven tried to remain focused on her project, but curiosity was one of her best traits. She creamed the sugar and butter together by hand using a big wooden spoon to burn up some energy. Then she turned on the oven and felt justified in sneaking down the hall while it was warming up. The voices in the library were muted, and Heaven couldn’t detect any anger or hostility. It must just be that Durant didn’t care for her. She started back to the kitchen, only to be busted by both Mary and Durant coming out of the library. All Heaven could do was ad-lib. “I was just coming to see if you needed a beverage,” she said sweetly.

  Mary indicated Heaven with her hands. “Durant, did you meet my friend from Kansas City?” she asked, looking at Heaven as if she couldn’t remember her name.

  “Kansas City, huh?” Durant said, rather impulsively friendly, Heaven thought.

  “Yes, I’ll be going back there next week,” she said, wishing she could bite her tongue. What did he care about her travel schedule?

  Mary took charge of this farce of a conversation. “Thank you for coming over, Durant. Let’s try to get that shipment out tomorrow.”

  Durant la Pointe nodded and went down the long hall and out the front door without another word.

  Why would Durant, who it had seemed to Heaven worked in incoming, be here at Mary’s home talking about outgoing?

  “Where’s the cast of thousands that usually work here?” Heaven asked, trying to get them out of an awkward pause in the action here in the hall. Mary obviously didn’t want to discuss Durant with Heaven.

  Relief on her face, Mary put her arm around Heaven and they walked back toward the kitchen. “I transferred them to the plant for a couple of days. They’re all out there fluffing the place up for the big party.”

  “I’m a little hurt. You haven’t asked me to cook one thing for the party. Did my dish at the benefit make you lose confidence in my cooking?”

  “Don’t be silly. Truely had the whole menu listed in the codicil to the will.”

  “I guess red beans and rice are the main item?”

  “Yes, from the Gumbo Shop. And Acme Oyster House is providing two oyster shuckers and the oysters and Uglesich’s is sending over enough Shrimp Uggie for two hundred. Praline Connection is doing all the sides, the greens and black-eyed peas and sweet potatoes and two or three other things. Really, all I had to do was follow directions. Truely had it all figured out.”

  Heaven had found chocolate chips and pecans and was adding them to her cookie dough. She had no idea if these cookies would taste good or not and it didn’t make any difference. It had soothed her to throw them together. It was Friday and she still had more questions than she had answers. She had to admit she might have to go home without solving any of them. “Did Truely have a bout with cancer or something?”

  “No, why?”

  “Most people don’t have the menu to their wake written
unless they have been face-to-face with the grim reaper.”

  Mary looked uncomfortable. “I told you, it amused him.” Tears started running down her cheeks. “I remember the night he did it. He tried to get me to write down my wishes.” She was really crying now, gulping for air. “I told him it was ghoulish. I stomped upstairs.”

  Heaven hugged her friend, who was sobbing by this time. Without interrupting the tears she gently sat her down and got her a glass of water, then a glass of wine. “If you tell me where your tranquilizers are, I’ll go get you one.”

  “My bathroom,” Mary said softly. She put her head down. Heaven went up and despite her desire to search Mary and Truely’s medicine chests, she just got the pills and went straight back down to the kitchen. Mary was standing at the kitchen sink, splashing water on her face. She took her pill bottle and shook out two.

  Heaven cocked her head. “I’m all for recreational relaxation but you have a big party to put on tomorrow, so maybe we should just stick to one. I’ll take the other one,” she said and calmly took one of the pills and popped it in her mouth.

  Mary giggled. ‘You don’t even know what it is.”

  “I do too. Ten-miligram Valium. I left the Xanax upstairs. Now take your medicine.”

  Mary took her pill and sat back down, sniffling.

  Heaven thought this was a good time to do a little digging. “Having that guy from the warehouse drop in reminded me. I’ve been wanting to ask you something. When I took the tour with Truely,” she lied, “I saw this room with a sewing machine and a whole lot of coffee bags. It looked like they were making something out of them. What’s that about?”

  “Oh, sometimes these independent coffee houses want those bags to decorate with. Maybe they were repairing them to resell,” Mary said reasonably.

  That made sense. Heaven started looking through the drawers for the baking sheets. “I have to tell you something about the cross. You’re gonna love this.” She spooned cookie dough onto a baking sheet and put them in the oven as she told the tale of the phony cross. “So, Mary, you’re a lawyer. What should I do? We have no real proof that Nancy Blair pulled a scam.”

  Mary laughed. “You’re a lawyer, too. Just because you don’t practice anymore doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten all your lawyer tricks.”

  “That’s a nice way of putting it. I fucked up and I can’t practice anymore. But if that hadn’t happened, I would never have found out how much I love cooking for people. So maybe it’s for the best,” Heaven said wistfully, knowing that wasn’t all true. Nobody likes being kicked out of something.

  “All right, as a lawyer, I don’t think you should accuse her of a thing. You could call Sotheby’s and tell them they’re selling stolen artifacts. Or you could call the sisters and tell them to take a look under that faux finish on their cross. Anonymously, of course.”

  Heaven was impressed. “Not one, but two good ideas. You should be the one out on the mean streets doing the investigating.”

  The phone rang and Mary got it. She looked puzzled. “It’s for you. I think it’s Amelia.”

  “What does she want?” Heaven asked as she wiped her hands on a kitchen towel.

  Mary held her hand over the phone. “She said it was concerning the John Doe you asked about.”

  Heaven grabbed the phone. She listened intently, said thank you, and then hung up.

  “Heaven, what was that?”

  “They found the body of James Smith just a little while ago. He was dumped, I mean his body was dumped, right in front of the Convent of the Sisters of the Holy Trinity in the Quarter. But they said he’d been dead more than a day, or at least that’s what the detective told Amelia.”

  “Heaven, for goodness sake, who is James Smith and why does that name sound familiar?”

  “Because I talked about him yesterday. He was one of the people that worked the benefit that the employment agency had never used before. I’m sure his name isn’t really James Smith. Maybe he has fingerprints on record. Mary, I think this dead person killed Truely. I thought he’d left town but I guess he didn’t have the chance.”

  “How can you be so sure that this person killed Truely?” Mary stared blankly at the cell phone. The Valium was working.

  Heaven took her dirty dishes over to the sink and found the soap. She filled the empty mixing bowl with soapy water and washed off the measuring cups as she talked. Her Valium was working too but she wasn’t numb yet. “That’s the sad part about this latest news, isn’t it, Mary? Now we’ll never know for sure.”

  The house was quiet and dark. Heaven had sent Mary up to bed and then finished up in the kitchen. She’d found a storage container for the cookies, ate a couple, and put them away. She dried her dishes and put them away. Then she turned off the lights and sat down at the kitchen table. She wished she’d felt surprised about the discovery of James Smith. But from the moment the boys at Vertí Mart said he hadn’t been to work since Saturday, she knew he was either gone or dead. Just because she’d gone around town telling everyone she thought the suspect was back in New Jersey didn’t mean she’d believed it.

  Heaven had some worry about her culpability in James Smith’s death. She’d gone all over the French Quarter looking for this kid. If she’d kept her mouth shut, would he still be alive? The fact that Heaven believed him to be a paid assassin didn’t make her any more comfortable with the fact that she might have hastened his death with her big mouth.

  She ran that around in her brain for a while, then got up to check the kitchen door. She had started talking to Mary as soon as she walked in and maybe she hadn’t locked it behind her. It was locked, but it got Heaven thinking about the doors so she went around the whole first floor, checking the windows, jiggling to make sure everything was secure. When she got to the front door she stepped out on the porch.

  The air was full of scent, heavy and moist. Shadows thrown by the streetlight played all over the gallery, but it was beautiful, not frightening. New Orleans had its own brand of enchantment, that was for sure. There was no other place like it. Heaven turned to go back in the house and saw him.

  The big man. He was just standing across the street smoking a cigarette. Heaven knew he had seen her come out on the porch and that he was waiting for her to see him. But he didn’t run away like he had the last time when she’d caught him on the porch. He very methodically stamped out his lit cigarette and got into a Lincoln town car and drove away.

  He was obviously watching the house on a regular basis. But why? Heaven locked up and went quickly up to bed before something else could happen.

  She fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, with only one question in mind. How could she talk to the big man?

  Red Beans and Rice

  1 smoked pork shank or ham hock

  2 lbs. red beans, soaked at least two hours

  1 whole jalapeño chili or a dried chili

  2 bay leaves

  Examine the beans for rocks, then soak in a large soup pot. Add more water and bring to a boil with the chili and the bay leaves. Reduce to simmer, skim, and cook to tender. After the first 30 minutes, add the shank. Don’t add salt at this point. When the beans are tender, remove the shank to cool, and discard the pepper and bay leaves. Remove from heat.

  2 qt. chicken stock

  1 shallot, peeled and diced

  1 onion, peeled and diced

  1 yellow or red pepper, diced

  1 green pepper, diced

  3 stalks celery, sliced

  1 fresh jalapeño, seeded and diced

  4-6 cloves garlic, minced

  ¼ cup olive oil

  3 cups uncooked rice

  1 T. each Worcestershire sauce, Louisiana hot sauce, white vinegar

  1 tsp. soy sauce

  kosher salt and pepper to taste

  2lbs. assorted sausages (Polish, Italian, brats and real New Orleans andouille will work)

  ½ cup chopped fresh parsley

  Without draining the beans, add a
qt. of chicken stock and the rice to the beans. Heat on a medium flame to boil, then reduce to simmer. In a large sauté pan, heat your oil and sauté the onion, shallot, peppers, celery and garlic until they are soft. Add the vegetables and seasonings to the rice and bean mixture. Slice the sausages into bite-sized chunks. Remove the meat from the smoked shank or hock and add all the meats to your rice and beans. Add more chicken stock as you need it. When the rice is tender, it’s done, about 40 minutes. Mix in parsley and serve. This makes a big batch and you could halve it but why not just invite some friends instead. Red beans and rice is traditionally made on Mondays in New Orleans, when the household staff has had a day off. I think it’s a great party dish.

  Eleven

  It seems like we were sitting in this kitchen just an hour ago,” Heaven said as she poured coffee for Mary.

  “It was seven hours, but who’s counting?” Mary said. She had one of her legal pads in front of her and she was already making lists.

  “I don’t have a vice costume yet. I thought it should have something to do with food. Gluttony, is that a vice or one of the seven sins?”

  Mary smiled. “I think it’s one of the seven sins and surely they qualify as a vice. What are you going to do, carry a turkey leg around and gnaw on it all night?”

  “I hope I can come up with something more dramatic than that. Mary, I have to tell you something.”

  Mary’s eyes clouded up. “Something besides the fact that a mysterious man was shot and dumped in front of the convent and you think it’s Truely’s killer?”

  Heaven felt her pulse quicken. “Where’d you get the info that he was shot? I don’t think Amelia mentioned how he’d died last night.”

  “I turned on the television early this morning. It was on the news. Little Miss Amelia herself. She said it was execution-style, two shots in the back of the neck.”

  There was some undercurrent in Mary’s voice when she mentioned Amelia. Heaven thought for a moment that Mary knew about the affair. But she certainly wasn’t going to bring it up. If she was wrong, if Mary didn’t know, this was not the time to find out her dead husband had been cheating, when she was about to throw him the biggest wake of the century.