other, let him in, then came around and got behind the wheel. The Cadillac started, headlights came on, and it swung around the driveway suddenly, its lights sweeping over Tania. She was too surprised to do anything but stare straight ahead. The Cadillac accelerated up the street. Tania got her own mind working quickly, and pulled out to follow.
Assuming that Van Dyne was the passenger, she now knew that he was handsome, tall, and strong-looking. She followed the Cadillac to Derbigny Street, then across Tulane to Mid City. It pulled into the dim parking lot of the Bouligny Steak House, and Tania, from across the street, watched the two men get out and go into the neon-lit restaurant.
Tania parked outside under the streetlights for almost an hour and a half. A panhandler spotted her and tried to engage her in conversation, but she refused to open the car window. After tapping on the glass and making a face he went away. To occupy herself she went over the day’s events, thought about a customer who had complained about one of her tellers, and wondered where she would get a gun.
Finally the two men came outside again, laughing. Charlie paused to light a cigarette. Then he was let back into the Cadillac. They drove away, and Tania followed them back uptown to Persephonie Street. The car entered the driveway, and the men got out and went back inside the house. She maintained her vigil outside until almost eleven o’clock. When she caught herself falling asleep, she decided to go home.
She repeated much the same program on the following two nights, and Charlie’s routine stayed constant, except that he went to Ruth’s Chris one night and Pascal’s Manale the next. He was a very satisfied-looking man.
A plan began to form in Tania’s mind. It was nothing complicated, because she had learned in her professional life that the simplest approach was the one most likely to succeed. And she remembered where to get a gun. Her brother Kip had had one. He kept it in the table beside his bed. Tania went calling on the widow Charmaine that evening after supper, and, when she was left alone for a minute, she found the pistol and furtively put it in her pocketbook. Things were falling into place, and she went to bed that night eager to wake up and face the day.
Her boss came by her desk and complimented her.
“How have you been?” he asked.
“Busy,” she said with a smile.
“You know I always think you do a good job, Tania, but lately I’ve thought you’re putting out some real extra effort, like you are enjoying your work.”
“Why, thank you, Jerry,” she said.
“I just wanted you to know I noticed,” Jerry said.
CHAPTER 9
On the day following Tubby’s return from Florida, after he had made his visit to the morgue, slept and washed the stars out of his eyes, he had called up his oldest daughter, Debbie, to invite her out for a meal. It took them about a week to get together. They met for an early supper at Crêpe Nanou uptown, a favorite of hers. He ordered crabmeat crêpes, and he had to admit that, though real men had trouble pronouncing “crêpe,” they weren’t bad. The spicy mixture wrapped in a light pancake was quite tasty. Debbie liked sweets, and tonight she had crêpes with sour cream and peaches. She dug in while he told her about Florida, and seemed to enjoy her choice immensely.
“It sounds like the two of you had a lot of man-fun,” she said, smirking as if she knew what that was.
“That about sums it up,” Tubby said. “Much more fun and we couldn’t have made it back.”
“Did Raisin have a good time?”
“The best.”
“Doesn’t he have a girlfriend now?” Debbie always seemed interested in Raisin. A lot of people did. How did he get away without ever having a steady job? How the hell did he pull it off? Seeing him any day of the week looking fit on the tennis courts at Tulane or the club on Jefferson Avenue was enough to make accountants and doctors shake their heads in
Assuming that Van Dyne was the passenger, she now knew that he was handsome, tall, and strong-looking. She followed the Cadillac to Derbigny Street, then across Tulane to Mid City. It pulled into the dim parking lot of the Bouligny Steak House, and Tania, from across the street, watched the two men get out and go into the neon-lit restaurant.
Tania parked outside under the streetlights for almost an hour and a half. A panhandler spotted her and tried to engage her in conversation, but she refused to open the car window. After tapping on the glass and making a face he went away. To occupy herself she went over the day’s events, thought about a customer who had complained about one of her tellers, and wondered where she would get a gun.
Finally the two men came outside again, laughing. Charlie paused to light a cigarette. Then he was let back into the Cadillac. They drove away, and Tania followed them back uptown to Persephonie Street. The car entered the driveway, and the men got out and went back inside the house. She maintained her vigil outside until almost eleven o’clock. When she caught herself falling asleep, she decided to go home.
She repeated much the same program on the following two nights, and Charlie’s routine stayed constant, except that he went to Ruth’s Chris one night and Pascal’s Manale the next. He was a very satisfied-looking man.
A plan began to form in Tania’s mind. It was nothing complicated, because she had learned in her professional life that the simplest approach was the one most likely to succeed. And she remembered where to get a gun. Her brother Kip had had one. He kept it in the table beside his bed. Tania went calling on the widow Charmaine that evening after supper, and, when she was left alone for a minute, she found the pistol and furtively put it in her pocketbook. Things were falling into place, and she went to bed that night eager to wake up and face the day.
Her boss came by her desk and complimented her.
“How have you been?” he asked.
“Busy,” she said with a smile.
“You know I always think you do a good job, Tania, but lately I’ve thought you’re putting out some real extra effort, like you are enjoying your work.”
“Why, thank you, Jerry,” she said.
“I just wanted you to know I noticed,” Jerry said.
CHAPTER 9
On the day following Tubby’s return from Florida, after he had made his visit to the morgue, slept and washed the stars out of his eyes, he had called up his oldest daughter, Debbie, to invite her out for a meal. It took them about a week to get together. They met for an early supper at Crêpe Nanou uptown, a favorite of hers. He ordered crabmeat crêpes, and he had to admit that, though real men had trouble pronouncing “crêpe,” they weren’t bad. The spicy mixture wrapped in a light pancake was quite tasty. Debbie liked sweets, and tonight she had crêpes with sour cream and peaches. She dug in while he told her about Florida, and seemed to enjoy her choice immensely.
“It sounds like the two of you had a lot of man-fun,” she said, smirking as if she knew what that was.
“That about sums it up,” Tubby said. “Much more fun and we couldn’t have made it back.”
“Did Raisin have a good time?”
“The best.”
“Doesn’t he have a girlfriend now?” Debbie always seemed interested in Raisin. A lot of people did. How did he get away without ever having a steady job? How the hell did he pull it off? Seeing him any day of the week looking fit on the tennis courts at Tulane or the club on Jefferson Avenue was enough to make accountants and doctors shake their heads in
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