Chapter 54
THE WEDDING
The next morning sharp rays of light from the rising sun awakened me. I moaned as I rolled over. My head was killing me. I couldn't remember ever having such a bad hangover. I wondered how many bourbon and sevens I'd consumed. My memory of the previous evening was a little dim, but I had a sick feeling in my stomach that something bad had happened. I thought I remembered kissing Paula, but did it really happen or had I been dreaming? I wondered.
Rebekah wasn't next to me, so I figured she must be making breakfast or reading the paper. I got up, pulled a T-shirt on and walked into the kitchen. Reggie was eating a bowl of cereal and reading the sports section. Rebekah was drinking a cup of coffee and flipping through the entertainment section.
"Good morning," I mumbled. "I need some of that coffee."
Rebekah got up and poured me a cup of coffee. "I told you that you were drinking too much."
"I know. I should have listened."
"You're lucky I was sober enough to drive us home."
"I don't remember that."
"Did you get drunk, Dad?" Reggie asked.
"No. No. Just a little light headed."
Rebekah laughed. "Yeah, right. You were so drunk you tried to piss in the broom closet."
"What?"
Reggie started laughing. He got up and ran out of the room. "Dad pissed in the broom closet?"
"I did not," I protested.
"Jodie said she saw you come out of the broom closet. Obviously you were too drunk to find the men's room."
The sick feeling I had in my stomach suddenly got much worse. I started to gag.
"Oh, God! Don't throw up here," Rebekah screamed. "Go to the bathroom."
I walked quickly to the guests' bathroom, taking deep breaths hoping I might avoid vomiting. I stood over the sink a moment trying to remember the broom closet. Paula's face flashed through my mind. I remembered being led into the closet but it was a blur after that. What had happened in there?"
Rebekah came up behind me and put her hand on my shoulder. I jumped.
"Whoa! Steady cowboy. It's just me."
"Oh, you startled me," I said.
"I've been waiting for you to wake up."
"I'm sorry. I guess the booze knocked me out."
"I've been dying to ask you something."
"What?"
"How did you get lipstick all over your collar?"
A chill darted through me. How had I got lipstick on my collar? I didn't remember. Did Rebekah know what had happened? She wouldn't tolerate infidelity. My mind was in such a haze I struggled to conjure up a plausible explanation.
"Ah. Well, you can blame that on the drunken bride. While we were dancing, she stumbled and fell into my arms. Didn't you see that? We both almost landed on the floor."
"Hmm. I must have missed that," Rebekah said warily.
"I bet she's got a really bad hangover too," I said. "I've never seen her drink like she did last night."
Rebekah's eyes narrowed. "Do you two do a lot of drinking at work?"
"No. Of course not. Sometimes we have a drink at lunch, but that's rare."
"Hopefully she'll recover before the ceremony at four o'clock," Rebekah said.
"I'm sure she will. A little coffee, a couple aspirin, and a hot shower do wonders for a hangover. Speaking of which, that was my plan of attack."
Rebekah nodded. "The aspirin is in the cupboard.
Marcia and Mark walked in the kitchen. Mark said, "Dad, did you really get drunk last night?"
I shook my head no and said, "I'm going to take a shower."
While taking my shower, I wondered if Rebekah knew more than she was letting on about the broom closet. I didn't think so because she was not good at controlling her anger. Had she suspected anything serious, she'd be all over me. I prayed nothing had happened with Paula.
At 3:30 we arrived at All Saints Catholic Church. People were already starting to gather. As we walked in the foyer, I noticed the groomsmen, dressed in white cutaways, escorting guests down the aisle. I saw Bart standing amongst several groomsman and a bridesmaid. Despite feeling a little envious, I walked over to wish him well. He looked at me suspiciously.
"Well, the big day has finally arrived," I said. "How are you feeling?"
"Good, " Bart said.
"Well, you're a lucky guy. Paula's a wonderful woman."
"I know," he said.
"Anyway, I wish you the best."
He nodded and said, "Thanks."
I turned and rejoined Rebekah who was talking to Paula's father. I felt sick.
"I bet you're so proud," Rebekah said.
"That I am," he said. "She's had a tough life growing up without her mother. I'm just so glad she finally found someone."
I took a deep breath and said, "Bart's a good man. I'm sure they'll be very happy."
"I hope so," he said.
Several minutes later we were seated and the wedding began. The altar was decorated with several large bouquets of white and pink roses. A unity candle was set off to the right side and the podium was set to the left. The pianist played softly while the families were seated.
As Bart, the groomsmen, and bridesmaids took their places I prayed Paula and Bart would be happy together. They both certainly deserved it. Lurking in the back of mind, however, was a fear that what had happened between Paula and me the previous night, might spoil this day. I hoped that wouldn't be the case, but I couldn't shake the ominous feeling that had overcome me.
Finally, the music picked up and I saw Paula in the back of the church getting ready to make her entrance. She looked magnificent in her long-sleeved, silk wedding dress with the traditional long train. I felt a rush of excitement as she made her way toward me. Our eyes met for an instant as she passed by. A tingling sensation like I'd been pricked by a thousand needles made me squirm. Rebekah gave me a dirty look. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When I opened them Paula and Bart were at the altar.
The ceremony went quickly and before long Bart and Paula were man and wife. I didn't feel particularly happy at that moment but I was relieved. At least now it would be easier for Paula and me to work side by side without the sexual tension that had pervaded our past relationship. Perhaps now we could focus better on our work and become even more effective. At least that's what I kept telling myself.
That Sunday in church Father Bob was in great spirits. He gave a great homily and after the service he said he wanted to say a special prayer of thanks.
"This prayer is for the person who left the black sports bag at the rectory on Saturday. A note in the bag said it was a contribution for the new women's center. The bag contained $100,000 in large bills.
There was a gasp from several women at the front of the church. The crowd erupted into excited chatter.
Father Bob continued, "I'll confess, with the economy so bad, I had almost given up hope of raising this money. But the Lord works in mysterious ways that mere mortals will never understand."
Rebekah turned and gave me a hard look. I looked into her big brown eyes and smiled. She shook her head and looked back toward the altar. A moment later she smiled and took my hand. She whispered. "I knew you'd never keep the money."
I shrugged and replied, "What money?"
Epilogue
When Paula returned from her Tahitian honeymoon she seemed like a new woman. She was happy, confident, and relaxed. Married life was obviously agreeing with her. But it wasn't long before she was ready for her next big case and started complaining about the DUIs and possession cases that always seemed abundant. I told her to be patient. With the reputation she now enjoyed, it wouldn't be long before someone in a dire peril would be walking through the door looking for the best criminal defense lawyer in town.
By fall 1987 I was winding down my administration of Lottie West's estate. With the money we'd found we had nearly a quarter million dollars to give the SPCA after
expenses of administration. But there was another $288,000 that Otto had extorted from Lottie that I wanted to collect. Unfortunately, it was evidence in Otto Barringer's murder trial set for September 22, 1987. Fortunately, just before trial, Otto got cold feet and struck a deal with the DA that guaranteed he wouldn't be executed for his crimes and would be eligible for parole in 20 years. As part of the deal he agreed to cooperate in finding the rest of the Ludinburg Art Collection.
It was late one morning that I got a call from Detective Besch. He said they were going to be taking Otto to Huntsville in the morning and if I wanted to talk to him one more time before he left, I needed to go over to the Johnson County Detention Center that afternoon. It was a dark, stormy day so I wasn't thrilled with the idea of driving sixty miles in that weather, but I couldn't pass up this last opportunity to talk to Barringer.
When I got to Fort Worth and turned south the rain became so intense I could hardly see the road. The radio said the rain was coming down at the rate of three inches per hour and that considerable flooding was expected. Not ten minutes later traffic came to a standstill when a small creek overflowed and submerged the bridge that usually traversed it. I looked at my watch and saw it was nearly 2:30 p.m. I knew I only had until 4:30 p.m. to talk to Otto so I had to find another route to the detention facility.
Up ahead I saw some cars turning left. I figured they were locals who knew an alternative route so I followed them. Sure enough they went down a residential street and over another bridge. This bridge had no railings, but it was a little higher and the water had just started to flood onto the roadway. Several cars tried to pass anyway and succeeded. The water was only a foot deep on the bridge, so I carefully followed several other fools over the bridge, holding my breath that I wouldn't be swept into the raging water.
Fortunately, I made it across and eventually made it back to the main highway. At 3:45 I arrived at the Johnson County Detention Center and asked to see Otto Barringer. They put me in a small room with a chair facing a thick glass screen with a small hole so we could talk. A minute later Otto was let in and the door locked behind him.
"Otto. Thanks for agreeing to meet with me."
He shrugged. "Why not. What else do I have to do?"
"Are they treating you okay?"
"Yeah. It's just so boring in this place. I don't have anything to do."
"I bet. Listen, we don't have much time so I'll get started. There are a lot of unanswered questions I'd like you to address, if you don't mind."
"Fire away," he said. "I'll tell you what I know."
"After you killed Lottie and the dogs, what exactly were you looking for when you searched Lottie's place? The art treasures?"
"No. I knew they weren't there. Lottie wouldn't keep them at her house. They were much too valuable. I was looking for a safety deposit box key. Lottie told me Uncle Bill kept the treasures in a safety deposit box. She wouldn't say where, but I figured if I had the key I'd be half way to finding the treasures."
"I see. So, is that why you were following me?"
He nodded and smiled. "And that's why I broke into your office. I figured you must have the key. Did you?"
"Yes. I did. But I haven't been able to find a bank that uses keys like that. Do you have any idea where the safety deposit box might be?"
"No, I'd check up around where my parents live, though. I know they used to bank up there before they moved to Dallas. One of those small local banks. That would be my guess."
Otto and I talked until 4:25 p.m. when a guard came in and warned us to wrap it up. I thanked Otto, wished him well, and started to leave, but he looked at me like he had something to say. I waited.
"You know, Mr. Turner. I didn't mean to kill Lottie, I just thought she'd pass out for a while and then wake up. I just had to get rid of those damn dogs so I could search for the key. I tried to revive her, I did. But she wouldn't wake up."
I smiled and said, "I believe you, Otto. You never struck me as a killer. If we find these art treasures, I'll be sure to tell everyone that you were instrumental in their recovery. Maybe that will help when it comes time for your parole."
He nodded and I turned and left. The rain had subsided considerably by the time I left, so my journey home was much easier. When I got back to the office I pulled out the Texas map and wrote down all the small towns in the area of North Central Texas that Otto had suggested. There were forty-five that showed up on the map and I knew each one probably had a First National Bank or a First State Bank. Unfortunately, they all were independent so I'd have to contact each one.
Contacting them by telephone wouldn't work because I'd end up on hold or playing telephone tag for weeks. Mail would have been another option but that would have a slow process as well. I finally decided a sightseeing trip was in order. The next day was State Fair Day and the kids had the day off, so I suggested to Rebekah and the kids that we go up to Lake Texoma for the weekend. I didn't mention, however, that we were taking the scenic route.
After stopping at eleven banks the kids started to complain about the delay at getting to Lake Texoma, so I told them we were on a treasure hunt. I told them about the Ludinburg Art Treasures that were stolen after World War II and that there was a good chance they were at one of these banks. I showed them the key and said that this key would open the box that held the treasures worth millions of dollars.
After that there were no more complaints. In fact, the kids started fighting over the map and arguing how to get to the next bank. When we arrived at each bank, they all rushed inside with me and listened attentively as I quizzed the first bank officer who would talk to me.
We stopped at a Dairy Queen for lunch and I showed the kids pictures of the art treasures and explained the history behind them. They were amazed that an American would have stolen these treasures and then hidden them for over forty years. It was around two-thirty when we rolled up to the First National Bank of Pottsboro. It was located in an old brick building downtown. There were only a few customers and everyone looked up when all six of us walked in. An elderly lady spoke up.
"Can I help you?" she said.
I walked over to her and said, "Yes, I'm Stan Turner. I'm an attorney in Dallas and have been appointed the executor of the Estate of Lottie West."
The ladies' face showed a hint of recognition. "Lottie died?" she said.
A rush of excitement hit me like a brick. "Yes, I'm afraid so," I said, trying to restrain my joy which I knew she'd misunderstand. "Several months ago."
"Oh, what a shame. I really liked Lottie. I didn't know her that well, but she seemed like a nice person. Are you here to close out her account?"
"Yes, and clean out her safety deposit box."
"Of course. Do you have the key?"
I nodded and pulled the key out of my pocket.
"All right. I suppose you have your letters testamentary?"
I opened my briefcase and pulled out the document she wanted and showed it to her. She looked it over and then asked for my ID. I showed her my driver's license and she compared my face to the photo.
"You can't be too careful these days," She said. "There are so many thieves out there these days."
"Boy, ain't that the truth," I said.
She turned and walked toward the vault. "This way," She said.
We all followed her into the vault and into a room containing hundreds of boxes. The kids looked around in amazement. She went over to a large box and slipped in the key. Then she produced her master key and put it in the lock. She opened the door and then motioned for me to help her pull out the large box. After we'd put it on a table, she left.
Everyone gathered around as I opened the box slowly. We all peered inside. A gold and silver jeweled goblet glistened in the dim light of the vault. It was lying on its side partially hiding a large book of immeasurable beauty. I looked up at Rebekah, tears welling in my eyes.
"We found them! We found the Ludinburg treasures."
The kids started yelli
ng and screaming with joy. Everyone in the bank heard the commotion and came running in. I had embraced Rebekah and we were laughing and hugging each other. They all looked at us like we were crazy. I told the kids to quiet down and then began to explain to them that they were to bear witness to a great moment in art history. I went up to the box and pulled out the golden goblet and held it up. They all gasped at its beauty. Then I carefully pulled out the other treasures, one by one, until they were all on the table.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, behold the Ludinburg Collection!"
Other Works by
William Manchee
The Stan Turner Mysteries
Undaunted
Disillusioned
Brash Endeavor
Second Chair
Cash Call
Deadly Distractions
Black Monday
Cactus Island
Act Normal
Deadly Defiance
Deadly Dining
The Rich Coleman Novels
Death Pact
Plastic Gods
Other Novels
Uncommon Thief
The Prime Minister’s Daughter
Non-Fiction
Go Broke, Die Rich
Science Fiction
Shroud of Doom
Tarizon: The Liberator
Tarizon: Civil War
Tarizon: Conquest Earth
Desert Swarm
Black Monday, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 7 Page 54