Rampart Street (Valentin St. Cyr Mysteries) by David Fulmer Read Free Book Online

sent you."
    "All I did was tell them it's better left alone."
    Anderson glowered for a moment, then shook his head and folded his hands on his blotter once more. "You listen to me, Valentin. I wanted to give you a chance to get on your feet again. But I can make a call and have someone else on the job in ten minutes. If that's what you want, just say so." He actually made as if he was about to reach for the telephone.
    Valentin felt the room closing in and his gaze went to the window. To the east, over the slate rooftops, he could see the crescent of the Mississippi and partway to the Gulf. He wondered what he'd been expecting. The King of Storyville had lost patience with him, and if he gave the wrong answer, he'd be going back to his room to start packing.

    Anderson shifted in his chair. Another few ticks of the clock went by. Valentin sighed quietly and said, "I'll do it."
    "Without wearing a face? Or telling those people what you think of them?"
    "I'll be fine," Valentin said.
    "Then you'll have to go see Delouche and make amends. And hope he accepts your apology."
    "And what if he doesn't?"
    "Then you'll want to think about a situation somewhere else," Tom Anderson said.
    The detective understood that he was on shaky ground. Still, he allowed himself a dim smile. Anderson caught it and said, "What?"
    "Lieutenant Picot's not going to like this at all."
    "When has that ever mattered to you?" Tom Anderson waved the detective out the door with one hand and reached for his ornate telephone with the other.

    The offices of Dremont, Castell and Delouche, Attorneys-at-Law, occupied both floors of a staid brick building on St. Charles, a few blocks past Poydras. Valentin stepped up to double doors that were mounted in a brass-plated frame and set with leaded glass in which the name of the firm was etched.
    He crossed the lobby to stand before a desk that was large enough to serve dinner for six. Once he announced himself to the gray-haired woman seated there, he was asked to wait in an armchair that he found so plush he could have napped in it. Long minutes passed before a young fellow in a shirt and tie appeared to escort him along the hallway that extended off the lobby. Delouche's office was at the far end, as befitted a senior partner.

    The room was lined with books, wall to wall, ceiling to floor. In one of the corners was a low table and two armchairs, upholstered in brocade. Tall windows looked out on St. Charles. The thick carpet of deep, sober blue muffled any and all sound.
    The desk at the center of the room was a ponderous affair of old cherrywood that was polished to a dark glow. From behind it, Maurice Delouche coughed and said, "Mr. St. Cyr," in a creaking voice that held a feigned note of surprise. He waved a hand and Valentin took one of the chairs opposite.
    The attorney, for all his frailty, still managed to summon from some corner of his being a certain firmness of stature and tone, and he regarded his visitor with a cool and brittle gaze. "How can I help you?" The delivery was completely deadpan. Valentin guessed that in the time it had taken him to get there, Anderson had spoken to Badel, who had in turn called Delouche. The attorney knew exactly why he was there.
    "It's about the Benedict case," Valentin said.
    Delouche raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"
    Valentin understood that he was going to have to pay for his earlier insolence. "I'd like permission to continue the investigation."
    The attorney now took an elegant pause, settling back to study him with a certain sly light in his eyes. Valentin bit down on his bile and waited.
    Delouche swiveled in his chair a quarter turn so he could gaze out one of his tall windows. "The Benedicts are a good American family, and they've been in that Esplanade Ridge neighborhood for more than thirty years," he intoned. "John was a very successful businessman and a stalwart of the community. The ladies have attended the finest finishing schools and have taken part in