Echoes of a Distant Summer (65 page)

“From the papers I couldn’t figure out how much the estate is worth. Many of the properties were bought back in the twenties and thirties and haven’t been evaluated since.”

“Your grandfather owned properties and businesses in California and Mexico, New York, Louisiana, Oklahoma, and New Mexico.”

Jackson paused, awed by the possibilities, then he asked, “How do I find these certificates?”

“Through the sewer system. Your grandfather used to use the sewer a great deal. He knew his way underground around most of the city. It was one of the ways he used to move from place to place without being seen. But I wouldn’t waste time looking for the certificates until we have taken care of your enemies.”

“Good, but I can’t say that I’m thrilled about the prospect of obtaining an in-depth knowledge of San Francisco’s sewer system.”

“Well, you’ve got about a hundred million reasons to learn.”

T
he sky was cloudless and the morning sun beat down upon the humid environs of New Orleans with a slow, throbbing intensity. Everywhere it was not paved, the water-sodden earth baked and steamed under the blaze of the sun. Waves of heat caused distant objects to become indiscernible, shimmering images.

Pug DuMont leaned on his cane as he stood inside his wrought-iron security fence and watched as the carpenters removed the bulletproof shutters from windows on both the first and second floors. His wife, Zenia, had complained about the heavy shutters for years. She had said many times that they destroyed the curb appeal of the house. Pug had ignored her protestations until he received information that King Tremain had finally been killed. The war that had dragged on for over a hundred years was at long last over. The day he heard the news he wanted to jump in the air for joy. A hated enemy had been vanquished. Pug took off his straw hat and wiped the perspiration that was dripping down his bald pate with his handkerchief. He wheezed as a slight coughing spell shook him. He knew he was dying, but he was happy. He was seventy-eight years old and for the first time since his adolescence, he was standing in front of his house without fear.

Zenia called from the house, “Pug! Just tell those men to take all those shutters off and then let them alone! Come on in here and let me make you lunch!”

Pug didn’t bother to answer. Zenia was his third wife and although she catered to his every need, she grew tiresome with her constant prodding. He waved a dismissive hand in the direction of the house and limped over to the crew chief of the carpenters. He asked, “You think you can have them shutters off and the scaffolding down by next week? Me and my wife is plannin’ a party next Friday.”

“No problem, Mr. DuMont,” replied the man just before he yelled at one of his employees directing the hoist. He excused himself and ran over to supervise the operation himself.

Pug saw his son’s black Mercedes pull into the driveway and frowned. His son never came with good news. He started back toward the house. A pain lanced up his leg and made him stop. It was an old injury and it was getting worse. Still, he was alive while the man who had robbed him of so much was dead. He hobbled into the house and the air-conditioned interior provided a welcome change from the heat of the sun. He was seated at the kitchen table eating a tuna sandwich when Xavier walked in.

Xavier was a brown-skinned man of medium build in his early fifties with wavy salt-and-pepper hair. The animus of his presence entered the room like a blast of hot air. He ignored Zenia at the kitchen sink and confronted his father without a greeting. “What the hell is going on? You’re having them take down the shutters? Are you crazy?”

“I done told you before, watch yo’ mouth when you come into this house,” Pug warned. “You ain’t with yo’ pals! You be respectful in front of Zenia!”

Xavier snorted with contempt. “Why? She’s just your glorified nurse! A gold digger! I don’t want to waste time talking about her! I heard that you laid off some of the security people I’ve hired. Are you getting senile? What could you possibly be thinking?”

“Don’t be comin’ in here talkin’ ‘bout my wife like that, boy! You lettin’ yo’ mouth write checks yo’ ass can’t cash! I still run this family! I won’t be scolded by you or anybody!”

“You run this house, Papa, but you haven’t run the family or the business in ten years. I run the business. I’m the one at the office in the morning. I sign the checks. And as for running the family, there aren’t that many of us to run. You, me, and my son, Deleon, are the only men still alive that have DuMont as their last name.”

Zenia brought Pug a glass of lemonade and advised, “Don’t let him upset you, Raymond. Remember what the doctor said.”

Xavier looked at Zenia in her garish red lipstick and tight leopard-skin pants and thought, A forty-year-old woman shouldn’t dress like that. She was a money-grubbing cunt as far as he was concerned, and if it were left in his hands, he would treat her just like she deserved. Fifteen years ago she had been his fiancée. She was a nurse at the time and when his father started needing around-the-clock assistance with his medicines, Xavier had suggested Zenia apply for the job. Within six months her relationship with Xavier had fallen apart and six months after that she married his father. Xavier had been devastated and angry. He felt that he could never love anyone else like he had loved her. The utter desolation and bitterness that he felt when their affair ended was the primary cause that made him leave the Born Again Church of Jesus Christ. He just could not resolve how God could allow something so cruel to happen to a man who had spent years on his knees praying to the glory of the Almighty. His experience with Zenia made him feel that in the struggle for souls, his problems did not rate divine attention. Her betrayal never faded. His anger never dissipated. It soured and settled like uncorked wine.

Her marriage to Pug had driven a wedge between Xavier and his father; not that they had ever been close, but it destroyed whatever had existed. Where before there was a resentful tolerance, there was now open hostility. And Zenia seemed bent on driving the wedge deeper. She even seemed to have an influence with his son, Deleon. It always amazed him how she had woven herself so tightly into a family that had, prior to her, only loose associations with one another. She was a cunning beast, but he had her number now. Her time was coming.

“Zenia right! I ain’t gon’ let you run up my blood pressure,” Pug wheezed. She patted him gently on the back. “Whatchoo come here fo’?”

Xavier straightened his tie, adjusted his suit, then ran his hand over his straightened, salt-and-pepper hair. It was his way of calming himself. He was trying to focus on issues rather than his emotions. He said, “To advise you it’s not wise to cut security at this time. We should keep up our forces until we negotiate an official truce.”

Pug scoffed, “Why? King’s dead! There ain’t no one else to worry about. Them grandsons of his ain’t nothin’ to be scared of.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Papa. I think we ought to keep up our security until we can work out some kind of settlement. Shouldn’t be a problem once we sit down together. There’s no need to keep up the hostilities
now. It isn’t good for business. We need to declare this feud over and finished.”

Pug angrily knocked his glass of lemonade off the table. The glass hit the floor and shattered. He growled, “It ain’t over as long as one of them Tremains is alive! I want them all dead befo’ I go to my grave! The pickin’s easy now! We just need to finish the job!”

“Now, now, lovebird,” Zenia clucked as she got down on the floor and began to wipe up the lemonade. “You’re letting him get you angry. Remember to breathe deeply when dealing with annoying people!”

“Shut up, bitch!” Xavier shouted, losing control of himself. He pointed his finger at her. “This is between my father and me! You have nothing to do with this!”

Pug laughed wheezingly. “Look like he ain’t forgave you yet, honey!”

As she finished cleaning up the floor, Zenia said, “What do you expect from him? Someone who would be rude to a woman in her own home!”

“Let me tell you something, Papa,” Xavier said through gritted teeth as he sought to get back on track. “The people who killed King were found dead. Their organization’s building in Mexico City has been blown up and two of their top people have been assassinated within the last two weeks. The grandson who went to Mexico has disappeared. Whoever is behind this isn’t easy pickings. They’re dangerous.”

Pug turned to his wife and grinned. “You was right, honey. He is scared. I thought I raised him better than that.”

“Are you listening?” Xavier demanded. “Haven’t you learned anything? The reason there are so damn few DuMonts is stupid decisions like this! Why underestimate an enemy that has consistently kicked our butts over the years? We should have negotiated an end to the feud twenty years ago!”

Pug’s face contorted into a snarl. “You the one ain’t been listenin’! I lost five older brothers, my father, and I don’t know how many cousins to the Tremains! This ain’t over till the last one of them is dead! You ain’t gon’ negotiate a goddamned thing! They gon’ pay with they lives! They gon’ pay in blood! I was made a cripple when I was young because of them! I got the courage to finish the job, if you don’t!”

Now Xavier laughed. “The man responsible for all of that is dead. You lived in fear of him all your life. I heard how he found you under the bed when he came looking for his son. How you begged for your
life! Pleaded with him not to kill you! My mother told me all about it. She said all the DuMont women were ashamed. She said that his shooting you in the crotch shouldn’t have made a difference in your life since you never had any balls before that. Don’t talk to me about courage!”

Pug’s face was apoplectic with anger, but he said nothing. The silence was thick with tension. Xavier had struck on a tender spot and Pug hated him for it. Yet, Pug still had an ace to play. He snarled, “At least Deleon been listening. He understands the importance of blood and finishin’ this fight.”

Now it was Xavier’s turn to display anger. “What the hell are you talking about? What type of misinformation have you been feeding my son?” Deleon was a sensitive subject. The rare times that Deleon came to the office, Xavier would turn around and see his son staring at him with a look of absolute loathing, and it would make him feel extremely uncomfortable; more than that, he felt unsafe. As a result, Xavier had started making regular overtures to mend fences with his son, but every act was coldly rebuffed. Every time he saw the cold hate in his son’s eyes, Xavier was frankly shocked. What was the big deal? So he punched the kid a few times, just to get his attention! Kids needed reminding of what’s what! He never broke any bones, at least none that he remembered. Anyway, it was no worse than he had taken from his own father. Xavier demanded, “Where is he?”

Pug smiled. “I talked to him in Frisco this mo’nin’. He gon’ make sure Braxton doin’ what we want and I told him if he get the chance to do one of them grandsons, do ’em.”

“What?” Xavier exclaimed. “You dumb-ass, short-sighted old fool! You may have sent him to his death! You don’t know what’s happening out there, yet you risk his life!” Xavier looked in his father’s smiling face and cursed the fates which permitted his son and his father to have a better relationship than Xavier had with either one of them. He enunciated slowly, “I thought we agreed that after he got out of jail this last time, he wouldn’t be sent on any more illegal jobs. What happened to that? Don’t you care about your grandson? Don’t you care about his future?”

“This here assignment mo’ impo’tant than any one man in the family!” Pug replied haughtily. “This is how we gets revenge for all them that’s been killed! Blood for blood! That’s the way it’s been, that’s the way it’s gon’ be! By the time we party next week, there ain’t gon’ be no
mo’ Tremain men left! We gon’ be revenged! All the pains I’s suffered will be paid for in blood!”

“You’ll use anyone as an instrument to do your bidding!” Xavier shook his head in disgust. His father always spoke about avenging the family name, but what family? There was hardly anybody left. His father was caught up in a battle that time had passed by. The soldiers were old, toothless, and doddering. The philosophies they spouted and the causes they fought for had long been forgotten. Even their weapons and strategies were outdated. Xavier pointed his index finger in Pug’s face and sneered, “You dumb, old fool, what you don’t realize is that we have other irons in the fire. We understand that King’s complete holdings in stock certificates are hidden somewhere in San Francisco. The grandson who went down to Mexico is the key. If Deleon kills him, you may have cost us millions of dollars’ worth of unsigned stock certificates.”

“You said you wanted to negotiate!” Pug challenged. “So what if we kill ’em? We’ll find the certificates later!”

“The money goes to charity if he’s killed! Didn’t you read the material I sent over here? Let him inherit, then kill him afterward if we have to. We’re interested in money, not blood. Nobody wants to spend his life like you had to, ducking in and out of cars, looking over his shoulder all the time, avoiding open windows. It isn’t necessary! You can destroy people financially and that’s perfectly legal. That’s why I’m recommending until we’ve negotiated a cease-fire, that we all maintain our level of security. Once we get the cease-fire, then we can lead normal lives.”

Zenia tapped Pug’s shoulder and once she got his attention she shook her head as if to indicate nothing but caution could be expected of Xavier. Pug smiled and nodded in agreement.

“We takin’ down the shutters at this house!” Pug announced. “We cuttin’ security ’cause it ain’t necessary no mo’! We ain’t gon’ live like we scared! We gon’ enjoy ourselves. We gon’ have a party next week and invite the neighbors.”

Xavier shrugged. “Whatever you want to do around this house is up to you, but I’m keeping the security high around my home and the office building. And understand this, Papa, you’ve given your last order. You’re retired. You have no further say. By sending Deleon to San Francisco, you’ve forced me to make a move so that I have something to trade in case they capture him.”