Tony Dunbar - Tubby Dubonnet 02 - City of Beads (24 page)

“That’s a good deduction.”

“Someone named Broussard?”

Caponata shrugged.

“Right, and he was killed just to keep him quiet. There’s no future in working for you, is there?”

Caponata’s face went hard again.

“Are you finished?” he asked.

“No, I’m not. A man named Charlie Van Dyne was killed over drugs. Because of that, people are trying to hurt a woman I care about. I want that stopped.”

“I’ve heard of Van Dyne but he didn’t work for me. Regardless of what you may think, I have nothing to do with drugs.”

“You know who Van Dyne did work for, don’t you? You can get them to stop harassing a lady named Tania Thompson. You can do that, can’t you?”

“I probably can.”

“Then case closed.”

“You know, Mr. Dubonnet,” Caponata said when Tubby stood up to leave, “I see you understand the value of family.”

“I guess I do,” Tubby said.

“That must be because you have three daughters of your own.”

Tubby blanched and turned away quickly so that Caponata would not see that he had gotten the reaction he wanted.

When the front door closed behind him, he exhaled.

Cherrylynn was waiting outside in the Corvair, and Tubby asked her to drive.

“Go to Friday’s or someplace,” he said, “and I’ll buy you a sandwich.”

When they got a table he ordered a Diet Barqs to show her he was reforming. She, on the other hand, ordered a White Russian, and then a refill, while she went on merrily about what a nice street Joe Caponata lived on.

Tubby finally broke in.

“Do you know what this is all about?” he demanded.

“What?” she asked, startled.

“The deal I cut with that old bastard you’re so fond of.”

“No. You didn’t tell me.”

“Well, I just cheated the legal system.” He gestured dangerously. “I forgave murders and passed out sentences like I hold the scales of justice in my hand.”

“I’m not really sure what you’re talking about, Mr. Dubonnet,” Cherrylynn said with a worried expression.

“No, of course not,” Tubby said, collecting himself.

“You must miss having Mr. Turntide around,” she said after a moment. “I know it would help you a lot to have another lawyer to talk with.”

Tubby shuddered. He didn’t like to think about his ex-partner. He took a deep breath and tried to relax.

“You do just fine to talk to,” he told Cherrylynn. She blushed.

“I don’t know the ins and outs like you do, boss,” she said. “To me, Joe Caponata is just some colorful old-timer like Pete Fountain or Nash Roberts.”

“He’s a rat.”

“I’m sure he is. But did you see all the mandevilla he had blooming on the fence in his front yard? I thought it was so beautiful. He must spend a lot of time with his plants.”

“Yeah,” Tubby said. He swallowed the last of his root beer. Someday I’ll be just another New Orleans old-timer, too, he thought. I’ll plant a beautiful garden, support the church, and go to Saints games, and all will be forgiven. God, it’s hard not to love this city. It’s so ready to accept you.

“Me too,” Cherrylynn said, about what he didn’t know.

They left shoulder to shoulder, like pizza and pie.

It took Twink a while to digest the information that there would be no lawsuit against Bayou Disposal, at least not until they had given the company time to clean up its own act voluntarily. Tubby assured Twink that the company would do just that, and when he mentioned the gift to the environmental clinic, Twink saw the wisdom in patience. Debbie, sitting quietly in the dusty corner of the Save Our River office, took her lead from Twink, and when he expressed satisfaction with Tubby’s work, she was visibly relieved.

But we can’t stop here,” Twink said. “There are two or three other solid complaints in that file, and we have to follow up on every one of them.”

“You’ll still look into those, won’t you?” Debbie asked.

“Absolutely,” Tubby said. “If we can catch some bad guys, we’ll sure sue them.” He meant it. When you undertake a pro bono case, you should at least deliver a lawsuit.

When the meeting was over, and Debbie and Tubby were walking across the Tulane campus, scattering squirrels, toward Tubby’s car, Debbie said, “I’m not completely clear, Daddy, how you got Bayou Disposal to agree to a monitored cleanup of the crawfish ponds and all those marshes.”

“Just the Dubonnet gift for gab,” he said. “You inherited some of that.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” She laughed.

They stopped and watched a women’s soccer team race a red-and-white ball up and down the quad.

“Great exercise,” Tubby commented. “I never had the endurance for it.”

“You’re holding up pretty well,” his daughter said. “Me and Christine are trying to organize a family dinner next weekend.”

“Who’s invited?”

“You, and Mom. And Marcos. I’m going to have it at my apartment.”

“What about Collette?”

“I called her. She said she might be busy. But you know she’ll come.”

“Sure. Okay. You know I like to see everybody together. But I don’t know about having dinner with your mother. We’ve got our own lives now, after all.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t sit down at the same table, does it?”

“No, I guess not. Just don’t get any ideas.”

“Don’t worry about that. Besides, I think Mom may have some news.”

“Really? What?”

“I don’t know.” Debbie started walking.

“Come on, what news?” He was dying of curiosity. “Does she have a boyfriend I haven’t heard about?”

“I can’t tell you.” Debbie laughed. “You’ll have to come to dinner.”

“Well, I’ll have to check my calendar first,” he said. But he knew he would go.

Tubby met Adrian outside the courthouse and walked up the steps with him.

“I got a kick out of your parade,” he said. “Thanks for all the throws.”

“You looked like you were enjoying yourself, Mr. Tubby.”

“Oh yeah. I can still fight for beads. You must lose a lot of weight dancing around in that outfit.”

“It’s a workout, sure enough, but it’s not as bad as some of the other characters. The Moss Man, now, his costume is hot. He has to put ice in his suit just to stay alive.” The Moss Man, another parade headliner, was Adrian’s idol.

“You talked to your dad about the race for judge?” Tubby asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay, we’ll see how it goes.”

“Will I have to go on the witness stand?”

“If you do, I want you to tell the truth about what happened, just like you told me.”

“Even about how much beer I had to drink?”

“That’s not against the law, Adrian. That’s your excuse.”

He got Adrian seated in the back of the courtroom and went to stand in the district attorneys reception line again. He passed a few pleasantries before his turn came up.

“Good morning, Mr. Dubonnet,” Pettibone said when Tubby finally pushed past the other lawyers into the room.

“Good morning, Mr. Pettibone. This is Monster Mudbug’s trial day.”

“I’m dismissing that case,” Pettibone said.

“You are?”

“The guy’s got a good job, he’s never been in trouble before, and he comes from a good family. He’s innocent, it looks like to me. The justice system doesn’t exist to make people like that suffer. Just tell him to keep away from motorcycles unless they’re his.”

“I’ll do that.”

Pettibone scribbled on the affidavit and handed it to Tubby.

“Just give it to the clerk,” he said.

Tubby carried the paperwork through and reported back to Adrian.

“You’re off,” he said.

Adrian was so relieved that tears came to his eyes.

“You don’t know what this means to me, Mr. Tubby,” he said. “I was so worried I wouldn’t be able to see my kid again. Thank you for everything.”

Tubby put his arm around him and walked him outside.

“Sometimes, Adrian,” he said, “the system works. It can’t screw up all the time.”

He visited Edith Aucoin at her home. It took time to explain it all to her, what he knew about the events leading up to Potter’s murder and how Potter had tried to save the river. He told her about Bijan Botaswati and Mr. Caponata. He told her he couldn’t be absolutely positive about what had happened to Leo Caspar, but he was certain the man had died a horrible death.

“It doesn’t make up for Potter,” she whispered, and cried softly.

Tubby held her hand on the living room couch.

She found a tissue in her pocket and dabbed at her eyes.

“It does make me feel better to know,” she said.

“I’m glad for that,” Tubby said.

“I don’t really believe in revenge,” she said.

Tubby studied the rug.

“But Potter did. He believed in paying the bastards back. He was a real fighter, he was.” She smiled sweetly.

Tubby nodded.

“I wonder what I should do with the business,” she continued.

“You could try running it,” Tubby suggested.

“No.” She laughed. “That was Potter’s thing. I have absolutely no interest in brokering vegetable oil. And I don’t really need the money, as you know. We salted enough away.”

“You want to sell your lease?”

“If you think it’s worth anything.”

“I know a company that might be interested. I’m sure that they would, in fact, pay top dollar. And I think that’s what Potter believed it was worth.”

“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.