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

society. They are active in the church. They have been very supportive of a number of charities. In other words"—the chair came back around and the flat gaze settled on Valentin once more—"not the type of people to go wandering around on Rampart Street in the dead of night."

    "Then what was he doing there?"
    The attorney said, dryly, "I'm quite sure he just got lost. But to my mind, it doesn't matter how that happened, or why. My concern is the survivors, Mrs. Benedict and Anne Marie. I don't want the family name dragged in the dirt. Except for the report of the crime, I've managed to keep the whole mess out of the newspapers, but until it's settled, there's a risk of scandal. So we don't really need an investigation, sir. We need a conclusion."
    Delouche tugged at his vest, a small gesture of impatience. "What happened was a tragic mistake and that's all it was. Now it needs to be laid to rest. Do I make myself clear?" Valentin hesitated and the attorney cocked his head. "Mr. St. Cyr?"
    "I understand."
    "Very well," Delouche said. "Then let's get the whole sad matter handled as soon as possible." He picked up a pen. "Now, if you'll please excuse me..." He returned his attention to the document on his desk. He did not look up as Valentin made his exit.

    Outside, the afternoon had turned windy and high clouds were coming in from the Gulf. Valentin walked down St. Charles to Lafayette Square and made a circuit of the statue of the great Frenchman, absently running his hand over the wrought-iron spikes as he passed along.
    Now he understood. No one wanted an investigation, merely the appearance of one, and he was going to be a willing player in this fiction.
The poor fellow got lost and...
He was expected to deliver a report that would insulate the family. Whatever had actually happened to Benedict would remain forever unknown.
    He began another circuit of the square. His task would be easy enough. If he performed this simple service, he'd be taking a step in the direction of reviving some semblance of his career. Whether he wanted to or not.

    And yet he knew old habits died hard and he couldn't shake the thorns that kept pricking at him from the edges. Beginning with the most obvious: What
was
John Benedict doing alone on Rampart Street at that hour? Was he so foolish that he got lost, or was he there for some purpose? Either way, why wasn't anyone watching out for him? The man was wealthy. Where was the protection that people of means employed?
    Valentin arrived back to the St. Charles Avenue banquette and stopped short. What was he thinking? It was none of his affair what happened to John Benedict. He had agreed, mostly by his silence, to go through the farce of an investigation, in order to placate a troubled widow and daughter. That was all there was to it and he needed to leave it alone.
    Anyway, it was well after the lunch hour and he hadn't eaten since breakfast. He turned northeast, heading for home.

    The telephone bell jangled and Anne Marie Benedict lifted her skirts and hurried to the foyer to answer it before it woke her mother. She pushed back her hair, held the polished brass hand piece to her ear, and studied the design in the glass that framed the front door as she listened to Mr. Delouche explain the situation.
    Valentin St. Cyr, the private detective who had shown up at their door with a surly face and sharp tongue, had apparently seen the error of his ways and now wished to continue the investigation, if the family would allow it. The attorney reported that the man had been chastened roundly. There would be no more disrespect. He said that while Tom Anderson still insisted that St. Cyr was the man for the job, there were many other competent investigators about.
    She counted to five, feigning deliberation, then made her voice sound grudging as she stated her preference to keep Mr. St. Cyr on. His experience with the rough streets of the city couldn't be discounted. After thanking the attorney, she