Kent Conwell - Tony Boudreaux 09 - The Crystal Skull Murders (23 page)

I grinned. “Buck is the consummate liar. I wouldn’t
have been surprised when he was born if he didn’t try
to convince the doc he was girl. He tries to play all the
angles.”

“What about Ivory? You think he was telling the truth
about his Jeep?”

I wanted to believe Ivory. I figured he was one of
those poor souls, who, but for the grace of Getdown
Joe, would be wandering the streets like Goofyfoot and
Pookie. “I’m not sure, but I’d like to talk to him without
Joe around, wouldn’t you?”

She grinned and nodded to the pickup. “We know
where he is.”

On the way to the parking lot, I called my boss,
Marty, who had touched base with one of his contacts
at the police station and verified that the Jeep had been
reported stolen the previous Monday.

“That don’t mean Getdown and Ivory hadn’t stashed
the car in a garage and reported it stolen,” he said.

He was right. That very well might have happened in
a situation involving perps with an IQ higher than a refrigerator bulb, but when one considered Ivory Washington, a gut feeling told you that such a level of
deception was far beyond his grasp.

On the other hand, there was Getdown and he was no
dummy.

Upon reaching the parking lot, we spotted Ivory
Washington speaking with a uniformed officer taking notes while another was climbing out of the Jeephaving dusted for latents, I guessed. I stopped behind a
parked car and waited until they left.

As soon as the cruiser drove away, I pulled in beside
Ivory and climbed out. Doreen rolled down her window
and rested her arm on the sill.

The young man had the door open to his Jeep when
he spotted us. He grinned and once again thanked us
for finding his Jeep for him.

“Glad to help. And now, you can help us, Ivory.”

His grin grew wider. “Yes, sir. Just you name it.”

“Remember a couple weeks ago when Getdown Joe
had you follow the little man back to the Blackhawk
Towers?”

A blank look came across his face, and his forehead
wrinkled in concentration. Slowly, he nodded. “Yes, sir. I
remembers that one. He was sceered abouts something.”

“Joe?”

Ivory shook his head emphatically. “No, sir. The
man Mister Joe had me follow.”

“What do you mean, scared?”

“He keep looking around and walks fast as he can.”

“What happened after he went into the Blackhawk?”

Ivory shrugged. “I gots on the elevator with him and
some more people. He gots off on the tenth floor with
two other people so I makes like that’s my floor and
gots off. When I sees what room he goes into, I calls
and tells Mister Joe.”

“Then what?”

“Mister Joe tells me to wait outside and follow the
dude if he goes out, but he never did. Just before the sun
done come up, the police come up. I hears later that the
little man done kilt hisself.” He held his arms out to his
side. “I done what Mister Joe tolds me. That’s all I
knows.” He looked hopefully at Doreen and then back
to me.

Doreen spoke up. “Ivory, do you know S.S., who
works at Neon Larry’s?”

His face broke into a wide grin. “Yes, ma’am. I
knows him real good”

“You seen him around the last couple days?” She
shot me a quizzical glance.

He thought a moment, then nodded. “Yes, ma’am.
Him and Bull was in The Lighthouse this morning. Dey
was leaving when I comes in.”

A shot of adrenaline coursed through my veins.
“Bull? You mean Bull Abdo?”

He nodded. “Yes, sir. De laundry man” Doreen and I
exchanged smug looks as he reached for the door.

He climbed in and adjusted the seat, sliding it forward five or six inches, after which he tilted the
rearview mirror down. He started the Jeep, then his eye
fell on an object on the floor in front of the passenger
seat. He leaned over and retrieved an Afro wig.

I chuckled. “Nice-looking rug”

He frowned at me and shook his head. “No, sir. Ain’t
mine.” He patted his shiny bald pate. “I likes my head
just like this. I ain’t got no use for them wigs.”

I reached for it. “I’ll take it.”

He tossed it out the window to me.

After he drove away, I climbed in and tossed the wig
on the seat between us. “Ivory’s about five nine, wouldn’t
you say?”

She nodded, perplexed. “I don’t follow you.

I explained. “Whoever stole the Jeep was at least six
feet or more. I’d guess about six three, and with short or
no hair. I’ll guess black because of George Sheffield’s
description. Remember?”

A frown wrinkled her forehead. “Is that what that
wig’s all about, or are you planning on changing your
hair style?”

Laughing, I replied, “Nope. I’ve been wearing short
hair for forty odd years, and I plan on another forty or
more. But, I’d give you hundred-to-one odds that’s the
wig our thief wore last night.”

“You really think so?”

“Yeah, and did you see how far Ivory had to slide the
seat forward? Almost six inches. And then he had to adjust the rearview mirror. It was set for a tall man”

Doreen thumbed through her notebook. “All Sheffield
remembered about the guy was his Afro hairstyle.”

Before we could continue our discussion, my cell
rang. It was Bull Abdo. He sounded frantic, and he
wanted to talk.

“Where?”

“Barton Springs. Thirty minutes.”

As we sped toward Barton Springs near the river, I
glanced at Doreen. She smiled grimly at me. “What do
you suppose Abdo and S.S. have going?”

“Beats me, but I imagine we’re about to find out.”

Shaking her head, she replied, “Some combination, a
bartender and a laundry man.”

Suddenly, the nagging thought that had evaded me
for the last couple days exploded in my head. “That’s
it,” I exclaimed. “That’s it!”

Doreen jerked around, startled. “What? What?”

I tingled with excitement. “The laundry. Something
had been bothering me”

“What?”

All I could do was shake my head. “How could I
have been so dense?”

“Okay, so you are dense. Dense about what? Tell me!”

I looked around at her. “I know who set the fire”

Her eyes grew wide in disbelief. “What do you mean
you know who set the fire?”

Flexing my fingers about the wheel, I nodded. “I
know who set the fire. Look in that little notebook of
yours to one of our first interviews with Buck. He said
something about yellow-and-green uniforms.”

She thumbed through her book. Puzzled, she replied,
“Here it is. He said `even fancy green-and-yellow uniforms for my people like Getdown’.” She looked up at
me. “So?”

“So, how did he know they were yellow and green?
The only reason Getdown knew the uniforms were in
the back was from the delivery receipt. He didn’t even
know the color.”

Her eyes lit with understanding. “And the only way
Buck could have known was the fact he was back
there”

My eyes narrowed, and I squeezed the steering wheel
until my knuckles turned white. “Buck was in the back
room with Rosey”

Doreen looked at me in consternation. “You think
that-that Buck-”

Keeping my eyes on the road, I nodded. “That Buck
killed Rosey? If he didn’t do it himself, he was still responsible.”

I could feel my heart pumping hard, filling my muscles with fresh, invigorating blood. I flexed my fingers
about the wheel, anxious to finish our talk with Abdo
and then get back to Buck Topper.

I clenched my jaw, looking forward to confronting
Buck, and then Doreen splashed water on my anticipation.

“I just thought of something, Tony. What if Buck
found out about the uniforms from Abdo? After all, he
was working for Buck.”

Ten minutes later, we spotted Abdo’s red Miata sitting in the parking lot overlooking Barton Springs, a
natural swimming pool in a limestone basin a thousand
feet long and over a hundred wide, fed daily by thirtytwo million gallons of spring water bubbling from the
underground Edwards Aquifer.

Abdo was sitting on a park bench, nervously puffing
on a cigarette. His drawn face was taut with worry, and
his eyes quartered the park nervously. He froze when he
spotted the pickup, then relaxed and forced a weak grin
when he recognized us. His finger was still bandaged.

We climbed out of the pickup and walked across the
cracked concrete parking area to him. Behind us, occasional cars and motorcycles passed on the narrow
macadam road that twisted through the park.

Despite the cool edge in the air, a few cars were
parked along the road or under trees.

“Am I glad to see you” He glanced around nervously. “You’ve got to get me to the cops. They’re going to
kill me”

Doreen and I looked at each other, momentarily
stunned. I cleared my throat. “What are you talking
about?”

He looked around once more, then leaned forward.
“Buck and S.S.They’re planning on wasting me because of the skull business.” A sly gleam filled his eyes.
“But, I’ll show them. I’ve still got the skull.”

“You what?” Doreen exclaimed.

I broke in. “You’re the one who pulled the heist at the
jewelry store?”

“Just listen. Okay?” He drew a deep breath, chewed
on his bottom lip for a moment, then began. “You know
I found the skull at the pawnshop. What you didn’t
know was Buck sent S.S. to get it that night, but he
botched the job”

“S.S. was the one who broke into the pawnshop?”

He paused, sensing my incredulity.

Not too many revelations about the S.S.Thibeaux
would surprise me, but that one did. Then I remembered
the long sleeve shirt he wore that night behind the bar.

Abdo continued. “Yeah. Got the short end of a dog
fight too. Got his rear end tore up and a couple bites on
his arm” He chuckled, then continued. “Anyway, we
heisted the jewelry store the next night. I waited outside for S.S.When he came out, he gave me the skull, and I
hid it, like Buck said. This morning at The Lighthouse, I
told S.S. where I’d stashed the skull-Locker 242 at the
Greyhound Bus station. He asked for the key, but I’d left
it in a safe place. I was supposed to get the key from
where I’d hidden it and give it to S.S. later this morning.
He wasn’t at Neon Larry’s, so I tried the Red Rabbit. No
one was behind the bar. I started back to Buck’s office
when I heard him and S.S. planning on wasting me, cutting me out of my share of the skull once they got the
key to the locker.” He hesitated, swallowing hard. “S.S.
asked what if I didn’t give them the key? And Buck said
he had drugs that would make me do what he said.”

He paused, then added, “So, I moved it.” He drew a
deep breath. “I’m the only one who knows where it is.
And now I’ve got to get to the cops”

“Does Buck know you moved it?”

He nodded jerkily. “Yeah. I called him and told him.
I also told him if he wasted me now, he’d never find the
skull.”

“What did he say?”

Abdo’s face paled. “He just laughed. He said he had
ways to make me talk.” He licked his dry lips. “You see
why I got to get to the cops?”

From the nervous shifting of his eyes and constant
chewing on his lips, I guessed Bull Abdo was telling the
truth. Still, there were a couple holes I wanted to plug.
“Why you? Why did Buck have S.S. give you the skull?”

Without hesitation, Abdo explained, “In case the cops got lucky and collared S.S., he wouldn’t have the skull
on him.”

I arched a skeptical eyebrow. I understood Buck’s
reasoning although it was a bit dramatic. “What about
the diamonds? He give them to you also?”

Abdo frowned. “What diamonds?” He shook his
head. “He just had the skull. That’s all we was sent there
for, the skull”

Doreen looked around at me sharply, and in my head
flashed the picture of two open trays in a bank of a hundred trays or so. I nodded slightly, and a knowing smile
curled her lips.

In a soft, persuasive voice, Doreen said, “Carlos,
we’ll take you to the police, but things will go better for
you with them if you take the skull with you. You understand?”