Free Kent Conwell - Tony Boudreaux 13 - The Diamonds of Ghost Bayou by Kent Conwell

balusters.

    “They are beautiful,” Emerente said. “Have you ever looked
at them, really looked at them?”
    Sheepishly, I shrugged. I’d looked at them enough not to like
them. “Not really.”
    “Do. On the side of the handrails and balusters are handcarved fleurs-de-lis.” She shook her head. “Simply magnificent,”
she gushed.
    I wasn’t about to fall into a discussion about the cypress railings and balusters. Personally, regardless of the fleur-de-lis
carvings, I thought they were as out of place on the house as a
wart on a beautiful woman’s nose.
    Brasseaux grunted and ran his hand through his long white
hair. “That Theriot, me, I never see no one so picky about the
way that house be built.”
    Emerente snorted. “That one, he should have been more particular about robbing that jewelry store over in New Orleans
with the Judice brothers.” She gave her head an emphatic shake.
    Putting on what I hoped was an expression of naivety, I
replied, “Jewel robbery? I hadn’t heard that.”
    “Oui. It happen back in ‘96. That why Theriot, he go to prison.”
Smugly, she looked around at Brasseaux.
    The old editor glared at her and then added, “Theriot, he
plan the job with C. K. and Donat Judice, so say Lacoutrue.” He
grinned smugly at Emerente.
    Her eyes narrowed. I had the feeling she was not to be outdone by her boss. “What you mean, `so say Lacoutrue’? That
sheriff, he dumber than a snake. It be Thibodeaux what run
them down, but it not be the boys who plan the job. It be Theriot.
The boys, they just be with him. That’s why the law, Lacoutrue,
he don’t catch them at first.”
    Brasseaux wagged a finger at her. “You forget to say that
some of the jewels show up eight years later.”
    She grimaced, as if chiding herself for forgetting such a juicy
piece of gossip. “That be right,” she replied. “From what we hear, the jewels was found in a pawnshop up in Alexandria. The owners over in New Orleans still have a reward up for the rest of the
jewels.” She looked at Brasseaux. “Me, I forget how much. You
remember?”

    His bushy white eyebrows ran together when he furrowed his
brow in concentration. “Best I recollect, it was the Eloi Saint
Julian Jewelers, and they offered a 25 percent reward for the
jewels.”
    I whistled to myself. No wonder people had been searching
for the diamonds. Keeping an impassive face, I replied, “Any
luck?”
    Emerente shook her head, her bouffant hairdo bobbing back
and forth. “No. Not counting those in Alexandria.”
    Brasseaux nodded to my empty coffee cup. “We got more.”
    I shook my head. “You mentioned they didn’t catch the Judice boys until later. They didn’t go to prison with Theriot?”
    The old editor rolled his eyes. “It be several years before
Lacoutrue learn the Judice boys was with Theriot.”
    “Just before the statute of limitations run out,” Emerente said,
punctuating her remark with a firm shake of her head.
    Brasseaux grimaced at the interruption. “That be right.”
    Emerente continued, “Thibodeaux, he tell the sheriff. That’s
how Lacoutrue know.”
    Brasseaux glared at her. “You want to tell this story?”
    She glared back.
    “All right, then,” the old man continued. “By then Theriot was
dead, but the boys was sent to prison. That be about seven or
eight years ago. Donat, he die there. C. K., he was a mean one.
Tried to break out and got another ten years”
    “He still there?”
    Emerente poured another cup of coffee. “He be killed too, three
years ago. Riot.” She shook her head. “That be terrible place.”
    I glanced down at my notes. “That’s interesting. Now, this
Guzik-what can you tell me about him?”

     

Emerente- shrugged. “That one, he keep to himself.”
    Louis nodded in agreement.
    Patting the back of her hairdo, the Bayou’s ace reporter continued, “When Guzik not at the nightclub, he be at his place on
the bayou. Me, I never see him in