by Jim Riley
"You still don't get it, do you?" Samson asked.
"I guess not. What are you talking about?"
"Paula was here for only one reason," Mayeaux said each word slowly with the deliberation. "She was here to kill you."
"Are you kidding?" Kenny's voice rose two octaves higher.
"Do you think she followed you to the bar because she fell in love with your pickup truck?"
"I–I, uh. I–"
"You weren't thinking, at least logically. You only had one thing on your mind and she was taking advantage of that. Lucky for you, those kids came along and spoiled her plans," Mayeaux stated.
"It wasn't so lucky for them," Niki added.
"I never thought about it," Kenny said. "I only assumed–"
"That assumption almost killed you."
"Why would she want to kill me?" Kenny asked.
"The same reason she wanted to kill Omar Philbin, Clarice, and Dennis. Don't you see a pattern there?"
"The debate," the realization swept over Kenny. "But I had no chance of winning that. I'm in last place in every poll."
"That seems to make little difference," Niki said. "Everyone that has had an attempt against him was in the debate. The only one running in the race that has escaped Paula's wrath so far is David Martin. He is running but missed the debate."
"Why him?" Kenny asked. "Why is he different?"
"We may have to ask him that question," Niki answered. "Who knows? He may be the one who hired Paula."
"Do you think she will try again?" Kenny asked.
"I don't," Mayeaux paused. "I don't think she will just try. She'll kill you."
Chapter Eighty-Six
Early Friday morning
Lakewood Subdivision
Mayeaux and Niki arrived at David Martin's house in Lakewood Subdivision in the wee hours of the morning. No lights were on inside the home.
"Do you think we should come back in the morning after they get up?" Niki asked.
"He might be dead by tomorrow morning," Mayeaux answered. "I guess it would actually be later this morning."
"He's going to be mighty upset it we wake him up without any reason."
"We've got plenty of reasons. There are four dead people and that's reason enough for me. If he's the one who hired Paula, then he is responsible for their deaths."
"That's a bit of a stretch, isn't it? Those guys couldn't have been part of the plan. They just got in the way."
"But Paula would still be killing people down in New Orleans if someone up here hadn't hired her. She wouldn't be scattering bodies all over East Baton Rouge Parish."
Niki followed the massive Chief of Homicide to the door. Samson tried the bell. When that did not get immediate results, he banged on the door. Lights came on inside. They also came on inside the home next to David Martin's.
"Who is it?" An irritated voice sounded from within.
"Samson Mayeaux and Niki Dupre," the chief answered. "We must talk to you. It's important."
The door burst open. David peeked out from within the safety of his home. Niki could see he was keeping one hand behind his back.
"We need to talk to you, Mr. Martin," she said. "There have been more murders tonight."
"My God," Martin sighed as he opened the door. "Come in. I'm up now anyway."
After they were seated, Mayeaux began the questioning.
"Where were you around midnight tonight?"
"I was in bed. That's where I am most nights around midnight."
"Can anyone verify that?" Mayeaux asked.
"My wife can," Martin answered. "She complains about my snoring all the time. She knows when I'm out of bed because I'm not snoring then."
"Do you know Paula Netterville?"
"Should I?" Martin answered.
"Do you know Guido Babineau? He's out of New Orleans."
"I don't know him either. Who are these people?" Martin asked.
"I'll ask the questions," Mayeaux stared at the entrepreneur. "You answer them."
"I'm not sure I like your attitude."
"Fine," Mayeaux retorted. "We take complaints on the second Tuesday of every week. You'd better get there early. Line gets long in a hurry."
"I might just do that," Martin glared.
Mayeaux rolled his eyes and winked at Niki. He then turned his attention back to Martin.
"Every other candidate in the race has been killed or had an attempt on their life. Why them and not you?"
"Wait just one minute," David yelled. "I don't like the tone of that question."
"You're going to like it a lot less if I have to haul your ass downtown. Then, I'll ask you the same question after you've been strip-searched and given one of those striped jumpsuits. Do I need to repeat the question?"
"I have no idea why somebody wanted the others dead. It may be something entirely different. It may have nothing to do with the race."
"Do you think I just graduated from playing cops and robbers at recess? I managed to find my way out of the birth canal. If this doesn't have anything to do with politics, then I'll kiss your ass in front of the Superdome and give you thirty minutes to draw a crowd."
"I've already told you I don't know."
Niki had an idea for a question she had not considered. She interrupted Samson even though he would not be pleased.
"What would happen if all six candidates running for the congressional seat died? Who gets the position? Does the governor get to appoint someone?"
"If nobody else has filed to run, then the governor will appoint someone on a temporary basis until a special election can be held. But that has never happened before."
"Could it happen this year?" Niki asked.
"I don't see how," Martin answered. "There are at least a dozen novelty candidates. One of them will get elected."
"What's a novelty candidate?" Niki asked.
"A lot of people will pay the hundred dollar filing fee just to get their name on the ballot. I guess that's their fifteen minutes of fame. They don't spend any money on ads or buttons. They just like seeing their name on the ballot on election day."
"Did you say there are dozens of these?"
"I haven't looked, but that's the norm. Some years, there are only a couple, but that's unusual."
"Why doesn't anyone ever see these people? I've never heard of them." Niki said.
"That's because you probably do your homework and know who you intend to vote for before you go behind the curtain. You find the names of the guys you support, and ignore all the rest. You see the names, but they don't register."
"I think I would have noticed a bunch of names on the ballot," Niki said.
"Maybe so," Martin countered. "How many guys were on the presidential ballot in Louisiana two years ago?"
"Two," Niki answered quickly. "Except one of them wasn't a guy."
"Are you sure?" Martin asked.
"Wait. There were three. There was a candidate for the Libertarian Party. I forgot about him."
"There were actually seven. Most of them filed as independents. But the top two were the only ones who mattered to you because they were the only ones with a serious chance of winning."
"So you think we would be wasting our time chasing down these novelty candidates?" Niki asked.
"That's my feeling. There has to be another angle somewhere." Martin said.
"What do you know about two groups, the Coalition Against Guns and the People for Coastal Preservation?"
"The first one is a joke in the state. I'm not giving up my weapons for anyone."
"And the other?"
"I've talked to them. Fellow by the name of Garfield, if I recall. I really haven't given the whole idea must thought, but I would like to save our coastline."
"Did they explain their plan to you?" Niki asked.
"Something about building some artificial reefs," Martin nodded. "It sounded like they knew what they were talking about."
"Let me guess," Mayeaux interjected. "They donated to your
campaign fund?"
"That's a matter of public record," Martin responded. "Or it will be when I file the papers."
"You haven't disclosed it yet?" Mayeaux asked.
"We don't have to according to the law until a month before the general election in the fall. This is only the primary election."
"You mentioned the novelty candidates. Are they on the general ballot or the primary ballot?"
"Only the primary. In the general election, only the top two names are listed. That's another reason you probably don't remember their names. You only saw them on the primary ballot."
"Let's get back to PCP," Mayeaux said. "How much did they give your campaign?"
"I don't have to answer that until I file the disclosure papers," Martin replied.
"That tells me enough," Mayeaux snarled. "It has to be a sizable sum if you don't want to tell."
Martin remained silent. Mayeaux was about to press him further when he was interrupted.
The front window broke followed by a loud thud. Then WHOOSH. The floor exploded in flames and smoke.
Chapter Eighty-Seven
Niki grabbed the Afghan from the back of the sofa and hurled it on top of the center of the explosion. Martin raced to the kitchen and grabbed the fire extinguisher.
"What the–?" An older female voice came from the hallway.
"Get some wet towels or blankets," Martin screamed at his wife.
Mayeaux broke for the front door, but saw no car speeding away. He jerked the fire extinguisher from the trunk of his squad car and ran back into the house.
Within two minutes, the flames were extinguished, replaced by a foul burnt smell and lots of lingering smoke. The four people staggered outside to get away from both. They waited for the fire truck with the arson inspector of the parish.
Chapter Eighty-Eight
Central
Mayeaux and Niki joined Drexel and Donna at her townhome in Central. Niki had little appetite and was not induced by the over-sized box of doughnuts sitting on her desk. Drexel had eaten one bran oval and was seriously staring over a glazed one. Donna and Mayeaux were competing for the rest.
Niki laughed out loud at the sight of the behemoth of a cop trying to stay ahead of the doll-like, petite girl. From Niki's count, Donna led by two, but she was still betting on Mayeaux's stamina and big belly.
"I guess that eliminates our last suspect," Niki said.
Mayeaux gulped down part of a chocolate eclair.
"Unless it's one of those organizations that don't like the way the election is going. They might have one of those novelty candidates in mind."
"I guess we need to follow up on that end. That is, if we believe all the attempts were real." The lean detective said.
"What do you mean?" Donna asked as a lemon filled doughnut disappeared.
"Think about it," Niki responded. "Why did the shot missed Jimmy Gill? Why wasn't it taken before Drexel pushed him? Why wasn't there a follow-up shot while Jimmy was in the water?"
"So we're back to looking at Gill as a suspect even though his daughters were kidnapped?" Drexel asked, content with a cup of Community coffee.
"His daughters were returned unhurt, which is totally out of character for Paula. You saw what she did to the four boys behind the bar. She could have let them run off, but she enjoys killing people."
"Maybe she just likes killing guys," Mayeaux said.
"Don't forget about Clarice. She wasn't a guy," Niki responded.
"But that was meant for you," Donna said, with another chocolate covered doughnut in her hand.
"I still qualify as a female," Niki said quietly. "At least Dalton thinks so."
"I didn't mean–" Donna started.
"Quit before you dig that hole any deeper," Drexel turned to Niki. "I think what my esteemed colleague is trying so hard to say in an unsophisticated manner is you are viewed as a challenge by Paula. She needs to eliminate you out of necessity instead of pleasure."
"You might be right," Niki said. "I know I definitely think of her as an able adversary. But I don't think we can focus only on Jimmy Gill."
"Why not?" Mayeaux asked with a piece of sprinkled doughnut in his mouth.
"Take Kenny Long's story. Who was behind the bar that night?"
"Him, Paula and those poor kids," Mayeaux answered.
"Right, and the four kids are dead. The only two left alive are Kenny and Paula. That might be a tad convenient on his part."
"But the evidence backs up a story. All the kids were killed exactly where and how he described it in his statement." Mayeaux said.
"Which means only that he saw them get killed. It doesn't mean he and Paula didn't work together to get them behind the bar."
"I guess you're about to tell us the firebomb tossed through David Martin's window wasn't really a firebomb?"
"It was a firebomb, all right," Niki responded. "But there a couple of things that bother me."
"Do you mean besides the flames and the smoke?" Mayeaux chuckled.
Niki rolled her eyes.
"If you keep that up, I might show up to file a complaint the second Tuesday of next week."
"I don't think the good Mr. Martin has figured that one out yet," Samson grinned.
"He will, and he's gonna be really upset at you as though he isn't already."
"What are the couple of things?" Drexel asked as he poured himself another cup of coffee.
"The first is that whoever threw it had to see Samson's car sitting in the driveway. He or she had to know we were there."
"Maybe they didn't care,"Donna suggested. "Maybe Paula figured that as long as David Martin ended up dead, it didn't matter who died with him."
"You might be right. Paula hasn't shown a propensity to worry about collateral damage."
"What's the other thing?" Drexel asked.
"Why throw the bomb through the window which had the lights on? If she wanted to burn down the house, why not set a fire at every door to the outside and trap us inside?"
"Maybe she only brought one cocktail and decided to take her best shot," Mayeaux suggested. "That's where we all were, and she threw it where it was most likely to kill someone."
Dina slipped the last doughnut out of the box. Mayeaux frowned at her and wiped the leftover icing up with his finger, and licked it. Then the text beeped on his cell.
"What the –?"
Chapter Eighty-Nine
"I got an anonymous tip," Mayeaux said after reading the text. "I wonder how they got my number."
"Don't worry about that. What did the text say?" Niki asked.
"It said we need to look at an offshore account with a lot of money," he replied.
"Which one?" Donna asked before realizing she wasn't supposed to know about the hidden campaign funds.
"How many do you know about?" Mayeaux turned to the hourglass investigator, wiping icing off his mouth with the back of his hand.
"We ran across some paperwork that referred to a couple," Niki replied, handing him a paper napkin.
"This one says George Thomas, Omar's aide has one in the Caymans. According to the text, there's over four million in it."
"Is that so?" Donna asked innocently.
Mayeaux arched his eyebrows.
"Why do I get the distinct feeling I'm telling you guys something you already know?" He paused. "It would be really nice if you let me in on some of your little secrets."
"You know everything we know," Niki countered.
"How long have you known about this account?"
"We ran across some information about a week ago indicating Thomas had one. We have not yet been able to officially verify it."
"Translated, that means Miss Cross hacked into a system somewhere and found it," Samson said before turning to face Donna. "What else did you find?"
Donna glanced at Niki. After her partner nodded, she answered the question.
"The account for George Thomas was over four million and one managed for Chrissy Becker is over two million.
But there is a difference between the two."
"And is that difference important?" Samson asked.
"I think so. George's account is in his personal name. He can use it to spend anyway he wants. The account for Chrissy is in a political action committee fund. It is supposed to be used for campaign expenses only."
"But the Thomas account is not one of those?"
"No, he can buy anything he wants."
"And did your unofficial research say where all this money came from?" Samson asked.
"The money from both accounts came from donations to Omar Philbin's account," Donna answered.
"Was is it legal?"
"The transfer to another political account, the one to Chrissy's, is definitely legal. The other one, the one to George's account, is not as far as we can determine."
"What do you make of it, Niki?"
"My best guess, and that's all it is, points to embezzlement by George Thomas. He, in my opinion, transferred the money without Omar's knowledge."
"And the Becker account?" Samson asked.
"I think it was set up so Omar could run smear campaigns against his opponents and then claim the ads were from an independent organization."
"That makes sense," Samson mused. "It meant having a way to get away with crap he couldn't do directly. He could blame someone else."
"That's the way we read it," Niki said.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Samson asked.
"Our methods might not stand up in court. Plus, there is a long way from embezzlement to murder."
Samson's phone vibrated again. He read the text silently, and shook his huge head.
"Maybe not as far as you expect. According to this tip, we will find the rifle that took a shot at Jimmy Gill in George Thomas's shed."
Chapter Ninety
Friday
George Thomas's Farmer’s
"We have a subpoena to search your residence and your outbuildings along with your vehicles," Samson said, handing the paperwork to George Thomas.