Chapter 9 - THE MAN ON TELEVISION
Louis Varrick smiled from every television in New Orleans.
Clean suit.
Silver hair.
Family values.
Law and order.
“New Orleans deserves leaders who protect ordinary people,” he said at a campaign rally.
Nell watched the clip in disgust.
“He was there.”
Benny paused the video.
“You saw him three years ago after breathing smoke and almost dying.”
“I know what I saw.”
Carmine studied her.
“Could you testify to it?”
“Yes.”
“Could a defense lawyer tear your memory apart?”
She hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Then we need more.”
Odette spoke from the corner.
“Vincent hated Varrick.”
Carmine looked at her.
“They worked together.”
“They used each other.”
“For what?”
“Property. Permits. Inspections.”
Benny nodded slowly.
“So Varrick could clear legal problems, Calder bought land cheap, built expensive, everybody got rich.”
Nell stared at the campaign video.
“And if one old baker refused to sell?”
Carmine answered quietly.
“They made the problem go away.”
Odette shook her head.
“Vincent was violent. Varrick wasn’t.”
Carmine gave her a look.
“You still believe that?”
She said nothing.
Benny opened his laptop.
“I’ve been checking Doyle’s finances.”
“And?”
“The eighty thousand wasn’t the only payment.”
Carmine leaned over.
“Another company paid his mortgage two months later.”
“Which company?”
Benny turned the screen.
Varrick Strategic Consulting.
Nell laughed bitterly.
“Subtle.”
Carmine checked the time.
“St. Agnes.”
Benny shook his head.
“We still have no proof Calder has anything there.”
“He thinks we’re bringing the files.”
“And we’re not.”
“No.”
Nell stood.
“We bring me.”
Carmine stared at her.
“No.”
“He wants me there.”
“That’s why you’re not going.”
“You think he’ll confess to Benny?”
“He might confess to my fist.”
“Very legal.”
“I’ve never claimed to be legal.”
Nell stepped closer.
“My father lived with people calling him confused. I lived with people calling me careless. Calder took our name, our business, our home.”
Her voice lowered.
“If he looks at me and thinks I’m still that scared girl, let him.”
Carmine knew he was losing the argument.
“I don’t like it.”
“I don’t need you to like it.”
“You’re in my house.”
“This is my life.”
They stared at each other.
Palmira’s voice came from the doorway.
“Take the girl.”
Everyone turned.
Carmine frowned.
“Grandmother.”
“She has more courage than half the men you employ.”
“That’s not the point.”
“It’s exactly the point.”
Palmira looked at Nell.
“Are you afraid?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Nell blinked.
Palmira continued.
“People who aren’t afraid are either stupid or lying.”
She turned to Carmine.
“Just make sure fear isn’t the loudest voice in the room.”
At 11:57 p.m., Carmine and Nell entered St. Agnes church.
Broken stained glass.
Dust.
Rows of old wooden pews.
A single lamp burned near the altar.
Vincent Calder stepped from the shadows.
Darren Pike stood beside him.
And between them was Louis Varrick.
Nell stopped.
Varrick smiled.
“Miss Fontaine.”
Calder looked at Carmine.
“You brought the files?”
Carmine held up a leather case.
Calder smiled.
“Good.”
May you like
Then Varrick drew a gun and pointed it directly at Nell.
“But first,” he said, “we need to correct a mistake that should’ve been handled three years ago.”
