by Gerald Lopez
“You’ll have to excuse our appearance, ladies,” Walter said. “We used our shirts to try to get Louise clean.”
“You men take turns using the shower,” Lucie said. “Adele, get them some of big brother’s stuff to wear, then help me and Mercedes. Queenie, you sip on that drink and rest a while.” She then headed to the bathroom on the opposite side of the house from her brother’s room. Mercedes went with her.
“Pierre, come with us,” Adele said. “It wouldn’t do for me to host three handsome men all by myself in my brother’s bedroom.”
“Especially when you’re making it sound so dirty,” Queenie said, and chuckled.
Adele laughed. “Oh, Queenie, you silly bitch. Follow, me gentlemen.”
They followed Adele down a short hall to a bathroom on the right.
“We had this bathroom and shower redone for our brother who needed help after his stroke, so there’s plenty of space.”
“What’s going on?” Gabriel said in French, when the detective sat him on the closed toilet. There was a high seat with rails over it which gave Gabriel something to hang on to.
“I’ll move the handicapped seat away later,” Adele said.
“Don’t worry about that,” Pierre said. “I can deal with it later. For now it’s useful.
“Thank you, Ms. Adele, Pierre,” Walter said. “We can handle it from here.”
“I’ll send Pierre back with some more towels and I’ll have clothes waiting for you on my brother’s bed,” Adele said, then took one last look at the detective and Walter who were still shirtless and left.
“I’ll be back with more towels,” Pierre said. “I’ll put your bag in the bedroom, Walter.” He took the bag from Walter then left.
“Let’s get Gabriel undressed, and I’ll take him in the shower with me,” the detective said, as he got the water going in the shower, then stripped out of his pants and underwear.”
“Nice,” Robertito said, while looking at the detective’s ass.
Robertito and Walter pulled back the shower curtain and helped Gabriel into the shower when the detective was ready for him. By the time Gabriel was bathed and his hair washed, Pierre was there with towels to help dry him.
“Next,” the detective said.
The sound of Louise screaming could be heard, and Galen woke up startled. Walter quickly took a fussing Galen’s T-shirt and underwear off while Robertito held him then Robertito handed Galen to the detective. Galen was crying for Gabriel, who was being helped to the bedroom by Pierre and Robertito.
“Gabi, Gabi,” Galen said.
“It’s OK, buddy,” the detective said. “We’re just gonna get you washed up, then you can join your brother.” He tried to put Galen down, but Galen held onto his neck tightly and cried.”
Walter, who was now naked, joined them in the shower.
“Can I lend a hand?” Walter said. “This shower is huge, thank goodness.”
“Give the lil guy’s hair a quick wash while I hold him,” the detective said.
Walter did so, then after rinsing Galen’s hair he grabbed a washcloth and gave the boy a quick but thorough washing.
“Damn, he’s a slippery critter when wet and soapy,” the detective said, holding a squirming Galen who was now laughing at his comment. “You liked being called a slippery critter, huh?” He began tickling Galen, who giggled and laughed.
“You’re not making my job easier, Mr. Mom,” Walter said. “I’m trying to get him rinsed off. OK, you two are done. Next.”
The detective exited with Galen, and Robertito went in the shower.
“Hey this is nice,” Robertito said, then looked at Walter. “Very nice.”
“I’m still in the room,” the detective said, while he dried himself off.
“And you’re welcome to stay and join us, if you need help getting any areas you missed rinsing off,” Robertito said.
Having finished drying himself, the detective was now drying Galen’s hair with a different towel.
“We’re outta here,” the detective said. “Play nice, boys.”
The brother’s bedroom was large and had a nice bed and dresser. Gabriel was under the covers to the far right in the bed. There were robes, nightshirt, T-shirts, and pajamas on the left side.
“Gabriel’s already asleep,” Pierre said. “The boy can wear one of the brother’s T-shirts.” he handed one to the detective, who slipped it over Galen’s head.
“Gabi’s sleeping,” Galen said.
“Yeah,” the detective said. “The bed sure looks comfy, doesn’t it, kiddo.”
“Yes,” Galen said, then laughed.
The detective aka Mr. Mom, tucked Galen in beside his brother.
“The sisters’ brother was skinny but one of his nightshirts would fit you, detective,” Pierre said, holding up a blue nightshirt. “You can put a robe on over it. He had plenty of those.”
Walter and Robertito entered the bedroom with towels around their waists.
“Sorry we took so long,” Walter said. “Mercedes and Adele came and got our clothes to wash.”
“They actually have a dryer to put them in, too,” Robertito said.
“The brother was always particular about what he wore, so he gave the sisters the money to buy a washer and dryer,” Pierre said, “so his clothes would always look pristine.”
Once Robertito, Walter, and the detective were dressed in nightshirts and robes they headed to the living room. Queenie was still on the sofa, and Adele entered carrying a tray holding a bottle of wine and some glasses. She placed the tray on the large wooden table in front of the sofa.
“I’ll be back with some almond cake,” Adele said. “It will help restore your energy. I made it myself. My sister is good in medical-related situations, I’m better at playing the hostess.”
“Thank you for all your kindness, Ms. Adele,” Walter said.
“You’re very welcome, Walter,” Adele said. “Make yourselves comfortable and have some wine.”
Pierre went to the wine, and began pouring it into the glasses.
“Grab a glass, boys,” Pierre said,
They all did then some sat down. Walter sat next to Queenie on the sofa, while Robertito and his father sat in the sofa across from them. The detective chose to stand.
“Queenie, was it Hugo at the club?” the detective said.
“No,” Queenie said. “But he’s the source of this problem, and we do have a problem, gentlemen. A very big one.”
“Hugo or someone known to him has taken something that doesn’t belong to them,” the detective said.
“Exactly,” Queenie said.
“Then we can all guess who is involved,” Mercedes said, as she walked into the room. “Louise is more calm now. I’m just on my way to get her a piece of almond cake.”
“Why the screaming earlier?” the detective said.
“We had to untangle her hair from the blood on her scalp and it hurt the poor dear,” Mercedes said. “Still, it had to be done before she got hard scabs.” She went into the kitchen, and emerged seconds later with a plate that had a piece of cake on it.
“Mama’s not wrong, is she?” Robertito said, then looked at the detective. “I forgot to mention that Pierre and Mercedes are my parents. My dad is a retired police officer.”
“And if my wife is right—and she always is,” Pierre said. “We’ve got a situation on our hands gentleman.”
“Enough is enough then,” the detective said. “Time for us to come up with a game plan.”
Chapter 16
Game Plan
“DON’T WE NEED to know who we’re dealing with first?” Robertito said.
“Wrong goal,” the detective said. “Getting the suitcase in the proper hands is the priority.”
“I agree,” Pierre said.
Adele returned with a large tray holding plates with slices of cake. Walter jumped up to help her. He took the tray and put it on the table.
“That smells delicious,” Walter said, t
hen began handing plates out to everyone, while Adele gave them the forks wrapped in napkins that were on the tray.
“Adele, what do you know about the boy Hugo?” Pierre said.
“He lived here with his grandfather who died two years ago from a massive heart attack,” Adele said. “Hugo has no family in town.”
“But he does have family?” the detective said.
“Oh, he does,” Queenie said. “He has a cousin who fancies himself to be a real badass. The girls and I met him when we performed a gig out of town.”
“Which is why you rushed here,” the detective said. “The cousin was in your club, and knew you girls would recognize him.”
“There’s only one reason he’d be in town,” Robertito said.
“Because Hugo blabbed about the money,” the detective said.
“Jean is a cold, mean bastard,” Queenie said. “And crazy enough to think he could do this.”
“Do what exactly?” Walter said.
“What do you know, detective?” Pierre said. “And how does it fit into things?”
“Gabriel and Galen are Chambers’ boys,” the detective said. “Their birth certificates were in a folder in the suitcase Louise had. She was kind enough to give Gabriel the folder. But not the money.”
“There have always been rumors the boys were Chambers’ children,” Adele said. But their mother, that foolish Chantal, would never let Chambers publicly acknowledge them for religious reasons.”
“What?” Robertito said. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“The mother believed they were meant to be poor, and that rich people were evil,” the detective said.
“Bull…shit,” Queenie said. “I knew Chantal. That woman pretended to be a saint on earth. Acting like she had a husband who was working out of the country somewhere when she first got pregnant.”
“We all knew she was lying and that it had to be Cabot Chamber’s boy,” Adele said. “But we let her have her delusions of piety even when she was pregnant with Galen, her second child.”
“That doesn’t matter now,” Pierre said. “Did Chambers sign off on the birth certificates?”
“Yes and I’m positive that it is his signature,” Walter said. “I’ve seen it many times.”
“That explains Naomi’s involvement in more ways than one,” Pierre said.
“How, Papa?” Robertito said.
“It’s all about succession dues, isn’t it?” Adele said.
“Yes it is,” Pierre said. “People coming here to work or live have an additional price to pay to a certain… overseer shall we call him. No one minds, since the taxes here are very low and the fee to the overseer is more than reasonable.”
“The money in the suitcase is a mob payment of some sort,” the detective said.
“Right on the nose, Detective,” Pierre said. “Augustine is the man in charge. With Chambers dead, his heirs would be expected to make a one time payment to Augustine to show their good faith. With Naomi handling things everything should’ve gone smoothly.”
“Someone got greedy,” the detective said.
“Nina,” Adele said. “She would’ve never opened the suitcase if Naomi had told her not to, unless—”
“Unless she heard about the money from someone with a big mouth—Hugo,” the detective said.
“Hugo’s the one that told Nina about Louise buying the gelato,” Robertito said.
“That is one evil boy,” Queenie said.
“More like one soon to be dead boy,” Robertito said. “Going after money meant for Augustine is beyond stupid.”
“Especially since Marianne told me that Augustine’s regular crew isn’t handling things here,” Pierre said. “They’re with Jacqueline, watching over her and Augustine’s newly born grandson and future heir after their son.”
“She had the baby,” Adele said. “What happy news in the midst of so much sadness. I can see why Augustine’s regular crew is guarding the wife, son, and baby. How is the mother Chloe recovering?”
“Fine, everyone’s fine there and healthy,” Pierre said. “But the baby will one day succeed Augustine’s son. So Augustine sent his best men there to keep him safe. The new crew has no ties to our community at all.”
“Which means trouble here if that money’s not recovered soon,” the detective said. Queenie, do you have a picture of Hugo’s cousin?”
“No, but Flan does,” Queenie said. “Let me give her a quick call.”
The detective was amazed that Queenie could even use her phone with the long fingernails she had. Once the phone was dialing through to Flan, Queenie put it on the table.
“I put it on speaker so everyone can hear,” Queenie said. “Flan, are you there? Speak to me in English, honey.”
“Hello, Queenie,” Flan said. “What’s going on, girl? Why you talkin’ in English?”
“I’m on speaker so Walt’s detective can hear and understand us.”
“What’s going on?” a man on Flan’s side of the phone said. “Is that a man on the phone?”
“Stop being so jealous,” Flan said. “Its just Queenie, go back to sleep.”
“Flan,” Queenie said.
“Hi, everybody,” Flan said. “Oh my God, I don’t even have my makeup or hair on. I must look terrible.”
“You’re on the phone, they can’t see you, stupid,” Queenie said. “Think, girl, think.”
“I went to bed after I got a text from you and one from Royale saying you were all fine,” Flan said. “I’m barely awake now. What you need, baby?”
“Do you have a picture on your phone of Hugo’s no-good cousin Jean?”
“Yeah, let me scroll down through my pictures while I talk to you. I got my shoes all messed up from the rain water.”
Queenie saw everyone in the room rolling their eyes, so she tried to get Flan to hurry. “Don’t be talkin stupid shit right now when it’s practically a bloodbath in town.”
“What?” Flan said. “What happened?”
“Where have you been, bitch?” Queenie said. “There was a fight in our club, remember. And that crazy ass Nina was murdered.”
“Oh yeah,” Flan said, then yawned. “It all seems so long ago.”
“Only a couple of hours,” Queenie said. “Did you find the picture?”
“Here it is,” Flan said. “Good night.”
“Don’t you hang up on me, girl!” Queenie said. “Flan! Flan!” She turned to the detective. “The stupid bitch hung up on me.” She picked up the phone and hit the button for Flan’s number again.
“Who is it?” Flan said.
“Who do you think?” Queenie said. “Don’t hang up this time.”
“OK,” Flan said.
“I need you to send that picture you found to my phone,” Queenie said.
“What picture?” Flan said. “I’m half asleep.”
“The picture of Jean!” Queenie said.
“Oh that,” Flan said. “Well, why didn’t you tell me you needed me to send it before?”
Pierre said something in French toward the phone, and Flan responded. A second or two later Flan’s man and Pierre were talking in French.
“Pierre told Flan to put her husband on the phone,” Walter said to his detective. He’s gonna send us the picture.
Less than a minute had passed, and soon they were all looking at the picture of Hugo’s cousin that Flan’s husband had sent to Queenie’s phone.
“How will they try to take the money out of town?” the detective said.
“The roads out and the boat docks will be watched by Augustine’s men,” Pierre said.
“Any roads Augustine’s men wouldn’t know about?” the detective said.
“No,” Pierre said.
“The train’s their only chance,” Adele said. “Tomorrow—I mean today, is always a busy day at the station.”
“When’s the first train due to leave,” the detective said.
“In just a few hours,” Robertito said.
The d
etective took a bite of his cake finally, and smiled. “Superb, Adele. Damn this is good.”
“There’s more if you’d like seconds,” Adele said, beaming.
“I would indeed after I finish this,’ the detective said.
“Thus the gut,” Walter said.
“Hugo and Jean are idiots to think they can get away with this,” Queenie said.
“We need to be at the station to greet them,” the detective said.
“And we need to call Marianne to let her know what’s going on,” Queenie said.
“I know Augustine has met Gabriel and Galen before and is fond of them,” Pierre said. “But Augustine can’t be seen to have favorites, so everything must be handled in the correct manner. Naomi will have told Marianne what to do.”
“Louise is finally asleep,” Mercedes said, as she walked into the living room. Lucie’s gonna stay with her in case she wakes up during the night.”
“Is there any chance Jean could’ve murdered Chambers?” Walters said.
“Depends on when Jean arrived in town,” Robertito said.
“Surely he would’ve come after Hugo told him about the money in the suitcase, not before.” the detective said. “Show me his picture again, please, Queenie.” He took the phone from Queenie, and looked at the picture closely. “This guy—Jean was two rows in front of me on the train coming in. He’s not our killer.”
“That means Chambers’ killer is still out there and may strike again,” Adele said.
Chapter 17
Ready… Set…
“MARIANNE WILL BE waiting at the train station,” Queenie said, when she got off the phone with Marianne. “She’ll be wearing a beige trench coat, red stiletto heels, and a short, platinum bob wig—plus sunglasses. When you get the suitcase hand it off to her, and she’ll get it in the right hands.
The detective had just finished eating his second piece of almond cake and could’ve licked the plate it was so good.
“Would you like thirds, Detective?” Robertito said, then laughed.
“It was good,” the detective said. “How many men does Jean have with him, Queenie?”