Postcards from the Dead by Laura Childs Read Free Book Online

thing is, Ava and I had dinner at Mumbo Gumbo last night and found out about this from Quigg. You know, the owner?”
    Babcock made a rude sound into the phone. He was well aware that Carmela had dated Quigg a couple of times.
    “Anyway,” said Carmela, “Ava and I just happened to speak with Quigg as well as the waitress who served Kimber Breeze and her dinner companion.”
    “Excuse me, you just happened to find this out?” said Babcock. He didn’t sound pleased. “It sounds more like you were investigating.”
    “I wouldn’t do that.”
    “Of course you would,” said Babcock. “You realize, Carmela, just because someone is hanged, stabbed, or bludgeoned to death in New Orleans, it isn’t necessary for you to drop whatever you’re doing and try to solve the crime.”
    “I don’t do that.”
    “Maybe it just feels like you do,” said Babcock.” He made a blowing noise that sounded like the exhalation of a baby whale. “Okay, sorry. It’s just that I’m being yanked in a million different directions right now. Plus there’s a floater we just pulled from the Mississippi that’s possibly connected to a drug cartel. And now this Kimber Breeze thing has been dropped in my lap.”
    “Kimber’s murder made serious headlines, huh?” said Carmela. “The Times-Picayune had it front page, above the fold.”
    “National headlines, too,” said Babcock. “But why wouldn’t it go big? Her own TV station released part of the tape! It’s blurry and hard to tell what’s going on, but the idea that they’d do something like that is really quite . . . depressing.”
    “You realize,” said Carmela, “for them it’s about her murder and the ratings.”
    “Understood,” said Babcock. “But now the mayor has taken a personal interest in getting this case resolved as fast as possible. At least that’s what has been made very clear to me.”
    “Because this is a high-profile case?”
    “That and because Ed Banister, the station owner, is a major contributor to the mayor’s campaign.”
    “Ouch,” said Carmela. “Politics rears its ugly head.”
    “It usually does,” said Babcock. “And, by the way, how well do you know Joe Panola?”
    “Sugar Joe?” said Carmela.
    “That’s right. He was there last night, though he scrammed with the rest of the lowlifes.”
    “He’s a good guy,” said Carmela.
    “I have two witnesses who place him at the murder scene.”
    “There were forty people at the murder scene!” Carmela exclaimed.
    “But apparently this Sugar Joe character was the last person to see Kimber Breeze alive.”
    “Sugar Joe’s not a killer,” said Carmela. “He’s a . . . I don’t know, he’s like an heir to a big sugar plantation.”
    “The Evangeline Sugar Corporation based in Lafayette,” said Babcock. It sounded like he was reading from his notes. “Joe Panola is also a friend of your ex-husband.”
    “So what?”
    “That would give you a strong reason to come to Mr. Panola’s defense, wouldn’t it?”
    “Absolutely not,” said Carmela, getting a little hot. “And, by the way, have you checked out the Hotel Tremain yet? Do you know who rented the rooms on either side of the Bonaparte Suite? Does that fire escape lead to the roof? And is there an easy exit onto another building?”
    “You’re too much,” said Babcock.
    “These are just normal questions,” said Carmela. “Really just observations.”
    “Normal for you, maybe.”
    “So you did check to see if these could be exit points?”
    Everything’s been looked into,” said Babcock.
    “And?”
    “That’s confidential information.”
    “Tell me something ,” said Carmela.
    “The fire escape does, in fact, lead to the roof of the building.”
    “So there are probably several easy means of escape,” said Carmela. “Like jumping down to a neighboring building.”
    “Unfortunately . . . yes.”
    “And the rooms on either side?” Carmela pressed.
    “Unoccupied,” said