Free Crooked Man: A Hard-Boiled but Humorous New Orleans Mystery (Tubby Dubonnet Series #1) (The Tubby Dubonnet Series) by Tony Dunbar Page A

Inspired by the proximity of their husbands, the wives arranged a dinner together, and then a lake trip, and everybody became friends. When the complicated financial settlement was finally reached, Reggie did very well. As did Tubby, who actually put in a lot of courtroom hours and handled several depositions and witnesses. Over drinks at the celebration dinner in the Rex Room at Antoine’s, beneath the framed portraits of past Carnival royalty going back through decades of civic service, the two victors decided to throw in together.
    Since Tubby’s and Mattie’s divorce, however, they hardly ever saw each other after hours, but they got along fine as partners. They didn’t argue about money, but split it all. Tubby sometimes thought Reggie got the better of the deal, just because he never saw Reggie working very hard. But he had a talent for bringing in the business. And, to be honest, Reggie was better at collecting his bills than Tubby was. Whenever a new client found the firm, Reggie would smile and say, “Pennies from heaven,” and he would keep smiling till they fell.
    This morning Reggie was in Tubby’s office wanting to talk about Darryl Alvarez, a client he had given to Tubby. Darryl, Tubby knew, was the manager of a bar at the lakefront and always had plenty of cash. He flashed it for lots of politicos and Jefferson Parish real estate developers, who all loved Darryl, and since Reggie hung out with the same group of pals, he loved Darryl, too. Darryl was great for free meals, tickets to Saints games at the Dome, and tips on horse races. He also made a buena margarita. But, Reggie had sadly told Tubby a couple of weeks before, Darryl had a problem.
    He had been caught with a new Ford wide-body pickup truck in Terrebonne Parish, unloading fifteen bales of marijuana from a shrimp boat. Where it had started its journey was anybody’s guess, but it ended with Darryl staring into a DEA agent’s spotlight. He called Reggie from the Parish Jail. Reggie, like most of Darryl’s buddies, suddenly didn’t want to know him at all, but he did at least wake Tubby up at home. Tubby drove down early in the morning. It took a while, but he eventually got the bond lowered from its initial million dollars to a measly $150,000. By some means Tubby never learned about, Darryl got a bondsman to post the bail, and he was soon back in his nightclub.
    Reggie wanted to know how Darryl’s case was coming, and Tubby told him.
    “I offered Fred Stanley, the U.S. Attorney, five years, simple possession, but he laughed. He’s trying for life. What he wants is for Darryl to turn around.”
    “Turn around on whom?”
    “I don’t know. I guess whoever he bought the pot from. He hasn’t told me.”
    “No chance of getting him off?”
    “He’s working on the ‘It was my twin brother’ defense, and the ‘I thought it was hay for a Halloween hayride’ defense. So far no takers.”
    “I appreciate your handling this, Tubby. Has he been paying you?”
    “No problem there. He’s ahead of the game. When he comes in this afternoon I may ask for another deposit.”
    “That’s great.” Reggie did his little finger-flutter, taken from the “itsy-bitsy spider,” meaning here comes more manna from the sky.
    “These pennies ain’t from heaven,” Tubby said.
    Reggie laughed and was still chuckling merrily when he went off down the hall toward his office. Defending Darryl did not bother Tubby. He had always liked the kid, too.
    Darryl came by after lunchtime, which for Tubby had been fried oysters on French with melted butter and lemon juice. Cherrylynn had bought it at The Pearl down the street. Tubby ate the sandwich, all fourteen inches of it, at his desk, brushing the crumbs off a Memorandum in Support of Exception of Vagueness he was reading. He wondered how Californians got by on raspberry yogurt or Whoppers or whatever it was they ate for lunch.
    Darryl came in carrying a blue gym bag, the kind a lot of people now showed off