Kent Conwell - Tony Boudreaux 09 - The Crystal Skull Murders Read Online Free Page B

Take off a couple days and things
always go down the tubes” He nodded down the hall
into which the younger man had disappeared. “Even
them that work for you don’t care just as long as they
get their bread every week”

    “You’ve been gone, huh? Vacation?” I asked casually
as I slipped in at the table.
    “In a way. I wanted to catch a new rap group up in
Dallas at the Somalia Sunrise Club.”
    Buck stopped at the table. “You want anything?”
    Before I could reply, Doreen answered. “No. Nothing.”
    Unlike many who attempt to hide their girth with
garish clothes, Getdown’s dress was much more fashionable than mine. Of course, just about any mode of
dress is more fashionable than washed-out jeans, running shoes, and a sports coat over a Polo shirt. He
grunted. “Fawn had some good things to say about you,
Boudreaux.”
    Of that I wasn’t surprised. Fawn Williams was a
high-class escort out of Lafayette whom I managed
to clear of a murder earlier that year. “Good. Now,
about the fire. The cops figured Rosey was the one who
set it.”
    His rotund face froze. He stared at me in disbelief,
the white of his eyes accenting the surprise in his
pupils. “Rosey? Was that who that old man was? The
cops said they couldn’t identify him.”
    “That’s who it was. Goofyfoot told us”
    He muttered a soft curse. “He was a harmless old
bum. Sometimes in the winter, he slept in the back room
of my club” He paused. “So, what do you think?”
    I gave Doreen a warning look. “I think whoever
torched your place didn’t want Rosey to identify him,
so he killed the old man.”

    Getdown Joe gulped a swallow of beer from an icy
mug and waved to Buck for a refill. “So you think
someone else torched it, huh?”
    “Yeah.”
    He grunted. “That’s what I think too”
    “I haven’t talked to the insurance company, but from
the looks of your place, it was a total loss.”
    “Yeah. And I had a backroom full of beer and wine
plus all of my cloth goods.”
    “Cloth goods?”
    “Yeah, you know. Towels for the bar and restrooms,
tablecloths, and new uniforms for my people.”
    “Uniforms?”
    A wide grin split his face, his brilliantly white teeth
a striking contrast to his blue-black skin. “Yeah. The
laundry had a supply of uniforms they got stuck with
when the Elegante Club shut down. I ain’t seen them,
but I figured they would give the Hip-Hop a little more
class.”
    For a fleeting moment, a random thought nagged at
me, but I couldn’t quite pull it out. I continued. “My
boss said you had an idea someone was trying to teach
you a lesson”
    “Yeah” He grunted. “In the last two months, I got
me four offers on the place.” He paused as Buck slid the
beer on the table. After Buck left, he continued. “And I
wasn’t even hustling the place. It’s a money maker.” He
laughed. “It’s like printing my own money”

    I pulled out a note card. “Who were they?”
    He cut his eyes to Doreen, then back to me. “Patsy
Fusco from San Antonio, Mossy Eisen from Atlanta,
and someone named Abe Romero. I never heard of
him. That’s it.”
    Pausing with the tip of my pen to the note card, I
looked up at him. “You said four.”
    “Fusco sent two proposals. He’s always been a pushy
brother.”
    “Any others? What about around here on the street?
Anyone want your club?”
    “Are you kidding? Half of them would slit the other
half’s throats for it. Like I said, it’s better than a printing press”
    “What about Calvin?”
    Getdown frowned. “Next door at the Bistro?”
    “Yeah. 99
    “No. He has his own little enterprises.”
    I wanted to ask if Calvin’s little enterprises involved
drugs, but I know what Getdown’s answer would be.
I hooked my thumb over my shoulder. “What about
Buck?”
    Lifting an eyebrow, Getdown grinned. “He wants to
expand.”
    “Enough to torch your place?”
    The rotund man shook his head. “He ain’t smart
enough to