The Sporting House Killing G. Powell (best free novels .TXT) đ
- Author: G. Powell
Book online «The Sporting House Killing G. Powell (best free novels .TXT) đ». Author G. Powell
âWhatâs on your mind?â Catfish asked.
He let out a long breath. âFolks at Baylor been asking me what I know about Cicero.â
Catfish softened his tone. âWhatâve you told âem?â
âMostly that I donât know what he was doing at that whorehouse, which is mostly right. It donât set well with me not telling what I do know.â
âWhoâs been asking?â
âProfessor Perkins, for one.â
âDonât worry about him.â Perkins was a friend and wouldnât do anything to hurt Jasper. âHe already knows what happened, and heâs not gonna get you in trouble. Who else been asking?â
âProfessor Charlton. Him and his wife lives in our dorm. He was the one I first-off told about Cicero not coming back that night. Heâs asked me some more questions, and I donât feel right lying to him.â
Catfish didnât really know Charlton. âIt sounds to me as though you havenât actually lied, just held back part of the truth.â
âYes, sir.â
âThatâs not really lying.â
âIt sure feels like it is.â He stared at the floor, then looked back up with worry written all over his face. âMr. Calloway, to be real honest, Iâm scaryfied theyâs gonna find out I gone to a whorehouse and had a beer, and then theyâll boot me out of school. Thatâd shame my mother and father, and I canât abide that. All our neighbors pitched in to pay my tuition.â
Catfish locked eyes with Jasper. Houstonâd had that same look. Heâd been older, of course, but the look was the same. Eight years later and the fear, the plea for help were still so vivid.
Damned if heâd let anything happen to Jasper. Not this time.
He clicked twice at the colonel, who came over and plopped down between them. Jasper leaned over and rubbed his floppy ear.
âWell,â Catfish began, âfirst thing is, you didnât know you were going to a sporting house, did you?â
âI thought we was going to get a drink.â
âAnd you didnât even touch a sporting girl, did you?â
âNo, sir. But one touched me, right before I got out of there.â
He smiled. âThat doesnât count as being with a girl. And as for the beer, I thought you said you didnât even open it.â
âNo, sir. I didnât, but I knowed we was going there to drink beer.â
âThat doesnât count as drinking. As far as I can tell, son, you didnât actually do anything wrong. Just thinking about sinningâs not wrongâotherwise, lots of good folksâd be sinners.â
âPreacher Jones donât agree on that.â
Catfish swatted the air. âPreacher Jones isnât from around here.â
âIt sounds right the way you say it, but folks at Baylor is real strict about things like that. They give us this student handbook, and it says weâs supposed to act Christian all the time.â
âJasper, as I told you before, Iâm your lawyer too. You gotta trust me.â
âYes, sir.â
Miss Peach breezed back in the front door and clicked across the floor straight to Catfish.
âMr. Calloway,â she said, handing him the ten-dollar bill, âthereâs no account at Sanger Brothers for a Jessie Rose or a Rose by any other name.â
He smiled. âGood work. Call up Miss Jessie right now and see how she reacts.â
They waited while she went to the front room and made the call. He strained to hear but couldnât catch what she said.
She bustled in a minute later. âI donât think she was expecting that call. When I asked her if she was happy with her purchase, there was a long pause. She just said âyes, thank youâ and hung up.â
He nodded. Now they were getting somewhere. âSomethingâs up between Miss Jessie and Mr. Buford Lowe, alias Winky-Blinky. Time for us to find out what.â
Chapter 18
On the way to see Winky-Blinky, after they dropped Jasper off at his dormitory, they stopped at City Transfer. Mr. Manchester knew buggies as well as anybody in town, and Catfish wanted to show him Jasperâs drawing of the one-seat buggy. Mr. Manchester said it looked like a Stanhope gig. He showed them a picture in a catalog: one two-person bench seat and a spindled back, just like a wide Windsor chair. Mr. Manchester said there werenât many in this part of the country, but they were popular back east for heavy harness showing.
Next stop was the town square to show the same drawing to Mr. Moon. He spent most of his days watching the goings-on around the square as he shined shoes. He didnât remember ever seeing a buggy like that but said heâd look out for it.
When they got to Buford Loweâs residence on Mary Street, Catfish looked around for a red buggy. Didnât see one. No place to keep one, either.
Winky-Blinky himself answered Harleyâs knock at the door. His jaw dropped, and his eyes started jumping. He began to push the front door shut but hesitated, glanced over his shoulder, and reluctantly stepped back toward them.
âWhat do you want?â he asked in a quiet voice.
âHow do, Mr. Lowe,â Catfish said more loudly than usual. âYou mind if we have a word with you?â
âWho is it, dear?â called a female voice from inside.
Three rapid blinks, one big wink. Then again. âIâm going out for a minute, Milly. I wonât be long.â Lowe stepped out, shut the door behind himself quickly, and hurried away from the house.
They followed, Catfish almost trotting to keep up.
âWhat do you want with me?â Lowe asked, his voice cracking.
âJust a word or two.â
âAbout what? I donât know you.â
âNameâs Catfish Calloway. I believe you already met my son, Harley.â
âLook, Iâll pay it back. I swear. It wasnât much, and Iâm good for it. Letâs just work something out, and nobody has to know anything.â
Lowe glanced back at his house. When he spotted a woman in the front window, he accelerated his pace around the corner. Finally out of sight, he slowed a little but didnât seem very relieved.
Catfish grabbed him by the sleeve and stopped him in the middle of the street. âMr. Lowe, weâre not interested in whatever youâve got going on with Miss Jessie. Unless you
Comments (0)