I frowned. "I thought it was 1513?"
He hesitated, then grinned sheepishly as a touch of color rose in his cheeks. "You're right, of course. I was
thinking of another map-1513."
"You must have really wanted it bad to try three
times to buy it."
"Nothing is more important than educating these students" He nodded to the sea of bent heads in the classroom.
"I understand that. I taught English up in Austin
several years ago"
He arched an eyebrow. "Oh, why'd you leave?"
I chuckled. "Just say I didn't have your dedication."
A self-satisfied smile played over his lips, and a little too nobly, he replied, "It is a calling."
"Did you know Bernard Odom?"
"Yes, but not well. From time to time, he inquired of
the authenticity of various maps he was considering for
his collection, but for the most part it was a business relationship."
"One more question, Father, and then I'm finished.
The night of October second. Do you remember where
you were?"
"What day was that?"
"A Monday"
"Ah. Mondays and Wednesday nights I have a sevento-ten class on religious ethics." He paused and nodded
to a young man in the end seat on the front row. "In fact,
Jeremy there is in that class. You can ask him if you
wish."
I shook my head, noting that the young student wore white shorts and a red T-shirt. "No. I'm satisfied." I
rose and offered my hand. "Thanks, Father. I appreciate it."
Jack had parked in the shade of several ancient elms
near the history building. While I had been inside,
he'd lowered the top on his convertible. He reached
to start the car when I climbed in. "Not yet," I said.
"I want to talk to a student" Father Poggioreale had
been very open and candid. Still, something nagged
at me about the man, something I couldn't pin down.
Maybe I had been around Al Grogan too much and
his suspicious nature was rubbing off on me. Poggioreale was probably just what he seemed, a conscientious
teacher concerned with nothing more than helping his
students. Still, I wanted to visit with two individualsthe young student, Jeremy, and the dean of the History
Department.
I glanced at my watch. I wasn't going to make my
ten o'clock appointment with Ted and Edna. I called to
inform her but I only got voice mail. I left a message.
Ten minutes later, students emerged from the history complex. I spotted an animated young man in
white shorts and a red T-shirt strolling with two other
young men.
I watched as they crossed the street and ducked into
Bucky's Burgers. "Back in a minute," I told Jack, climbing from the car.
"Now where?"
"That hamburger joint over there."
His face brightened. "Hey, bring me back a couple,
okay? Everything on them."
I rolled my eyes. Breakfast at seven, and now three
hours later, two hamburgers all the way. Jack Edney
was the proverbial hollow leg.
Laughing students packed Bucky's. Steam filled the
kitchen in the back as plate after plate of hamburgers,
tacos, hot dogs, and half a dozen other high-fat, highcholesterol entrees-all with French fries and served
by liberal arts graduates-slid across the counter. And
I thought Cajuns' four food groups of fried fish, fried
shrimp, fried crawfish, and a sixpack had a lock on
clogging arteries. Bucky's menu would run them a close
race.
I spotted Jeremy and his two friends on stools at the
end of the counter.
Without looking at him, I sidled up beside Jeremy
and ordered two hamburgers to go.
He glanced up at me. "Hi."
I looked around.
An infectious grin played over his lips. "You're the
guy that was in Papa Poggy's classroom last period."
"Papa Poggy?" I frowned.
One of his friends laughed good-naturedly. "Yeah,
Father Bertoldo Poggioreale, better known as Papa
Poggy."
I laughed with them, remembering my college days
and the fun we had baiting professors. "Yeah, we were
talking about maps."
Jeremy groaned. "That's Papa Poggy's obsession,
maps. But he's a good teacher. I like him. All of his
classes are real interesting. Makes history come alive,
you know?"
"Yeah," the other two joined in.
"Is that all he teaches, history?"
At that moment, the waitress slid their hamburgers
and drinks on the counter before them.
While Jeremy opened his hamburger to dump catsup on it, he continued. "Nope. Monday and Wednesday nights, he teaches a class on religious ethics." With
his hamburger, he gestured to his friends. "We're in it,
just the three of us. It's a neat class."
Both cheeks bulging with hamburger, one of the boys
managed to laugh. "Yeah, and sometimes, it is just the
three of us."
The other two chuckled.
"Oh?"
Jeremy swallowed a mouthful that would choke a
horse. "Yeah. Sometimes Papa Poggy comes in, checks
roll, and gives us our work, then goes to his office. He
always gets back before class is over."
I told myself I'd just found a bird nest on the ground.
"He probably has a lot of trust in you boys."
"We have an honor code here. No one breaks it."
I glanced at the other two boys. They nodded.
"Well," I said casually, fishing for more information,
"that gives him time to catch up on some paperwork."
One of the boys snickered. "I wouldn't call it paperwork."
Jeremy snapped. "Come on, Georgie. We don't know
that for sure. Give the guy a break."
"Yeah, we do"
"No, we don't."
In their lighthearted squabble, they momentarily
forgot about me.
Georgie elbowed the young man between them.
"What about it, Freddy?"
Freddy shook his head. "I'm not sure what he's doing, Jeremy. You know yourself, this last month he's left
as soon as he checks roll, and doesn't get back until just
before class is over. I know for a fact Papa Poggy hasn't
been in his office this last month. His light's on but he
isn't there. I've looked when I went to the john."
"He could be somewhere else in the building," Jeremy protested.
"Yeah," Georgie responded with a sneer, "and I'm an
alien from outer space" He snorted. "I don't know what
he's doing when he's gone but he always comes back
looking awfully happy."
The waitress handed me my bag of burgers. I nodded to the boys. "Take care. Nice talking to you."
Now, all I had to do was talk to the dean.
I slid into the Cadillac and handed Jack his burgers.
"Ready to go?"
"Not yet" I nodded to the Blythe Building. "I need
to mull a couple of things over first"
"Whatever." Jack unwrapped a burger and popped a
Budweiser beer.
I stared blankly at the Blythe Building, trying to
gather the thoughts bouncing off the insides of my head.
First, I learned that Papa Poggy had probably been
out of his classroom on the second of October. And according to young Freddy, he wasn't in his office. That
meant on the second, he could have been at the Odom
mansion. A stretch, I knew, but a possibility.
Second, no instructor, tenured or otherwise, could
purchase any item for the university without the approval of his dean, and then the acquisition involved
purchase orders that were in turn approved by the business manager. So, all I had to do was find out if Poggioreale had spoken with his dean about the Piri Reis.
If the History Department was indeed interested in the
map then I'd forget about Papa Poggy, but if they had
no knowledge then that put an entirely different complexion on the good father.
From Information, I got the number of the dean of
the History Department on the campus.
"I'm sorry," a young woman said. "Dean Coggins is
out the rest of the day. He'll be back Monday. Would
you care to leave a message?"
"If you don't mind." I gave her my name and hotel.
"If I'm not in he can leave a number."
"May I ask what this is in reference to?"
"Certainly. I wanted to talk to the dean about donations to his department" If I'd ever known of a surefire trick to get an educational professional to call
back, it was by suggesting they might receive a donation.
When I punched off, Jack said, "Ready to go?"
I frowned at him. He'd polished off two hamburgers
and a beer in five minutes. I just shook my head. I lost
count of the times I'd fussed at Jack about scarfing his
food down. He always patted his belly and laughed.
"Cast-iron stomach, Tony. That's the secret"
"You bet. Okay, I'm ready."
"Where to?"
"2112 Fairchild. In San Madreas"
Jack whistled softly when we pulled up beside the
mansion. "Hey, this is something else. I wouldn't mind
a shack like this. You think they'd let me see the place?"
I figured Edna could show him around while Ted
and I spoke. Then Ted could take over while I visited
with Edna. "I don't see why not."
We climbed the steps to the sprawling porch and
rang the bell. Jack nodded at the frosted glass in the
upper half of the door. "That looks like the real thing."
Moments later, the door swung open. Ted grinned.
"You didn't have to knock"
"Habit," I replied, introducing Jack. "He admires
your house. Maybe Edna can show him around while
you and I visit."
He gave me a puzzled look, then replied, "She's out
this morning. She'll be in after one or so" He smiled at
Jack. "Mr. Edney, you're welcome to look through the
house. There's a maid around here somewhere. If she
asks anything, tell her I said it was okay." He pointed
to the southern corner of the floor. "We'll be in the den
when you finish."
Ted led the way into the den. My eyes went instinctively to the rich Oriental carpet between the end table
and coffee table where Bernard Odom had fallen. Ted
closed the door behind us and motioned to the couch.
He sat and scooted around to face me. "I haven't seen you for the last couple of days. How are things
going?"
I held out my hand and fluttered it from side to side.
"Hard to say. But what I really wanted to talk about
was your father."
"Father?"
"Yes. There was no autopsy"
He shrugged. "So?"
"Look, I'll explain later, but how would you feel
about exhuming your father's body for an autopsy?"
A frown erased the puzzlement on his face. "Impossible"
I leaned forward, my voice earnest. "But why?"
A faint grin curled his lips. "Father was cremated"
I couldn't have been any more stunned than if my
Significant Other's seventy-five-year-old Aunt Beatrice had strolled in au naturel. I stammered for words
but none would form.
Ted nodded. "That's what he wanted. I thought I
mentioned it to you" His brow furrowed. "You seem
upset. Why? What would an autopsy prove?"
I closed my eyes and muttered curses. Finally, I drew
a deep breath and looked at Ted. "At first when you told
me about the case, you said you thought your father had
been murdered"
"Yes." He nodded. "I just don't think Father fell over
the ottoman"
"What do you think happened?"
He pursed his lips and drew a deep breath. He released it quickly and said, "I think someone wanted the map and struck father on the head" He paused and studied me curiously. "What do you think?"
I considered his question. "I think there is the possibility he might have been murdered but I don't think a
blow to the back of the head killed him."
He leaned forward. "What then?"
Nodding to the throw pillow behind him, I replied,
"That"
"Huh?" He held up the pillow. "I don't understand."
"An autopsy would have helped"
"How?"
"His eyes were bloodshot."
"So?"
"If a person suffocates, blood rushes to the eyes and
face and neck. There's a name for the effect, petechiae,
according to my research. They are tiny pinpricks of
red, sometimes even causing the eyes to be bloodshot.
Your father's eyes were bloodshot."
"Huh? How do you know that?"
I hesitated, realizing I had given away too much, but
the damage was done. If I told him Leo Cobb had found
Odom dead, Ted would run to his cop cousin, Louis,
and scream to high heaven. "You trust me, don't you,
Ted?"
"Yeah. Sure. Why not?"
"Then just believe what I said. I've spoken with several individuals, and I've picked up a lot of information.
Right now, I don't know what's true or false. I'm putting it all together. So, just trust me and don't ask any questions. All of this might lead nowhere. There's no
sense in stirring anything up unnecessarily."
His eyes narrowed momentarily, and then he nodded. "Okay."
"Now, what time do you think Edna will be in?"
He shrugged. "She had some business to take care
of. Probably one or two"
I changed the subject. "I had a nice little visit with
your cousin, Lamia, last night down on the River Walk."
His eyes grew cold. "Oh?"