Mekong Delta Blues by Phil Swann

Author:Phil Swann [Swann, Phil]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cygnus Road
Published: 2020-06-14T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

I disobeyed Clegg’s orders and stopped when I got to the main road. My reason was due to the temperature hitting triple digits, and my belief that not even a camel could survive riding in the trunk of a car under those conditions.

“Thank you,” she said, getting out of the trunk. She was dripping with sweat, but otherwise, okay.

“Did you kill your husband?” I blurted.

She gave a bewildered look and then shook her head. “I told you my husband died—”

“Not Jean-Paul,” I interrupted. “Charlie. Did you kill Charlie Wu?”

“Charlie’s dead?” she said, covering her mouth. “How? When?”

“Last night.”

Her face went white, and I thought for a moment she was going to collapse. “I can’t believe…no. I swear I didn’t. I didn’t kill…Charlie’s dead? What’s going on?” she yelled.

I’m not an expert on reading women—don’t know any man who is—but I was sure Michelle Wu wasn’t lying. I was also sure she was scared to death.

“Come on,” I said. “We need to get out of here.”

Neither one of us spoke for the rest of the way into town. When we arrived at The Jam Jar, I was expecting her to leap from the car and run inside. She didn’t. Instead, she seemed hesitant to get out.

“It’s okay,” I said, offering a reassuring smile. “He’s inside.”

She looked at me, nodded, and then opened the door.

Betsy and Luther were behind the bar. I didn’t see Jean-Claude right off but soon found him sitting at a booth in the back of the club. He was examining some charts Eighty-Eight Eddie must have given him to look over and was so engrossed, he didn’t notice us come in.

“Hey, J.C.,” I said. “Aren’t you going to say hello?”

He looked up.

“Mother!” he yelled, leaping out of the booth and running into her arms.

“Jean-Claude,” she cried out, embracing the boy, and burying her face in his neck, “I’m so sorry, Jean-Claude,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

I went over to the bar. Luther and Betsy were smiling.

“That’s mighty good, Trip,” Luther said. “Is it over?”

“Not even close,” I replied, setting the blue folder on the bar.

“What’s that? Where’s Agent Clegg?” Betsy asked.

I just shook my head and reached for the phone. I dialed the number. This time, there was no ring, only a click.

“Operator,” a woman’s voice said.

“Uh…who?”

“This is the operator. You’ve dialed a number no longer in service.”

“I’m sorry, I must have dialed the wrong number. Sorry.”

I hung up and dialed again.

“Operator,” another woman’s voice said.

“Is this 555-0020?”

“I’m sorry, sir. This number is no longer in service.”

“Thank you.”

I hung up the phone.

“Trouble?” Luther asked.

“The number to Clegg’s men has been disconnected.”

I looked over at Jean-Claude and Michelle. They were still in each other’s arms. “Luther, could you stash this?” I asked, nodding down to the dossier laying on the bar.

“I’ll put it in my office.”

“Could you put it in the stock room, maybe in one of the boxes where you keep your old copies of Down Beat? Sorry, Bets.”

“Consider it done,” he replied. “What is it?”

“I’m not completely sure, but Clegg told me to take good care of it.

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