STATE OF ANGER: A Virgil Jones Mystery Series (Detective Virgil Jones Mystery Series Book 1) by Thomas Scott Read Free Book Online Page B

pen?”
    __________
     
     
    City traffic and a slow drive to
the bank. Virgil spoke with his dad on the way over. Virgil and his dad owned a
downtown Jamaican bar called Jonesy’s. “Listen pops, I’m going to be tied up
tonight, if you’ve been watching the news.”
    “Can’t miss it,” Mason said.
“Nothing else on.”
    Virgil tried to work as many hours
as possible at the bar, but when he was on a case, it fell to his father to
pick up the slack. “That gonna be okay?”
    “Yeah, don’t worry about it, son.
I’ll see you when I see you.”
    “I’ll probably be in later if I
get the chance. Guy’s gotta eat."
    “A guy does,” Mason said. Watch
your back now.”
    “No worries, Pop. No worries at
all.”
    __________
     
     
    A half hour later after consulting
the lobby directory, Virgil took an elevator to the fourteenth floor, and found
Rosencrantz chatting up an attractive mid-forty-something woman with cat-eye
glasses and big hair. She wore a conservative dark gray business suit over a
thin white blouse. Donatti was across the hall and stood in front of what must
have been Dugan’s office, arms crossed, a bored expression on his face. Virgil
walked over and Rosencrantz introduced him to Dugan’s assistant.
    “Ms. Brennan, on behalf of the
state of Indiana, let me express my condolences regarding Mr. Dugan.
    “Please, call me Margery. And
thank you. Why don’t we sit?” She didn’t wait for an answer, just walked around
the corner to a small conference room. Virgil followed her into the room and
discovered Rosie was right. Someone had ordered catering, and quite a lot of it
at that. He pulled out a chair, popped a shrimp in his mouth and sat down. The
shrimp was good.
    Great, in fact…
    __________
     
     
    Once they were settled: “So,
Margery, about Mr. Dugan. I’d like to get a little background on him and I’m
thinking you’re probably the best place to start.”
    Margery gave a little snort. “I
don’t think it matters where you start, Detective, as I’m quite sure you’ll get
the same sort of background information from anyone you speak with.”
    “Meaning?”
    “Meaning Franklin Dugan was a son
of a bitch.”
    Well, that was something ,
Virgil thought.
    “Let me guess…not really what you
expected to hear, right?”
    “Well, I guess not, to tell you
the truth.”
    Margery took a moment before her
next statement. “Look, don’t get me wrong, Detective. I just don’t know how
else to put it. He really was. A son of a bitch, I mean. But everyone knew it.
He even referred to himself that way. It’s just a business thing. We’re
in a tough business here. People think banks, and then, you know, they think
friendly tellers, warm smiles, free toasters with a new account and all
that—or maybe not so much anymore, with the economy the way it’s
been—but our business isn’t like that. We’re not a regular bank. We deal
exclusively with religious institutions. And let me tell you something,”
Margery bit into a shrimp and shook the tail at him, “These religious guys? I
don’t care who they are…” She started ticking them off her fingers. “You’ve got
your Catholics, your Protestants, your Methodists, your Baptists, your
Lutherans, not to mention the Scientology nuts and the Mormons—who in my
opinion are a whole class of nuts all by their damn self—they’re all some
very tough hombres when it comes to their money. So if you’re going to lend
them money—and that’s what we do—you’d better be a son of a bitch
when you’re dealing with these guys or they’ll take you straight to the
cleaners.” Margery dropped her chin and looked out over the top of her glasses.
“All in the name of Jesus Christ mind you.”
    Virgil liked her immediately. He
ate a few more shrimp and thought about what she’d said for a minute, then
said, “Huh,” which made Margery giggle, which made her look about ten years
younger. “What?”
    “When you said ‘huh,’ you