Sinner, Saint or Serpent by John Anthony Miller

Sinner, Saint or Serpent by John Anthony Miller

Author:John Anthony Miller [Miller, John Anthony]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lume Books
Published: 2020-02-19T22:00:00+00:00


Chapter 32

We got back in the car and drove over to Lafayette Cemetery. I got there as fast as I could, obeying all the laws, of course, and parked the car along the curb. I grabbed the shareholder list and hurried into the graveyard with Remy right behind me.

“This whole thing is getting pretty suspicious,” I said as we walked into the cemetery.

“Assuming Blaze Barbeau is telling the truth,” Remy countered, still sounding a bit skeptical. “She is a murder suspect. And she may be the one that sent the threatening note.”

“That’s true,” I agreed. “But she has no reason to lie about this.”

We looked at the graves and tombstones as we walked down the main aisle. A large mausoleum stood on our right, architecturally distinct, almost like a miniature mansion. A statue of a winged woman was perched on the top, and names of family members were chiseled just beneath it – a list of those buried there. Inscribed in sprawling cursive letters on the marble base was the name Blanchard. I took a step closer and looked at the last family member buried in the tomb. It was James Blanchard.

“That’s the first house we went to,” Remy said, peering over my shoulder. “Over on Union.”

“Let’s keep looking,” I said. “I think we’re gonna find a few more names on the list.”

We kept walking down the main row, passing five or six ordinary tombstones, and stopped at the next mausoleum, thirty feet from the first. I looked at the name on the tomb: Picard. The last family member buried was Pierre Picard.

“The second name on the list,” Remy said. “Looks like we found the pattern. Each mausoleum should be a shareholder.”

With a sickening feeling I kept walking, Remy just beside me, until we arrived at the next mausoleum. I looked at the family name first, which was Delaporte. I knew without looking, what the name of the last family member buried would be. A quick glance confirmed it: Antoine Delaporte.

“He somehow used dead people’s names and fake addresses to buy shares of Crescent Financial,” Remy said.

“And gained control of the company with no one knowing,” I added. “But we still have to prove the stock ended up in Chevalier’s control. It might be with their next of kin.”

“Except for the fake addresses,” Remy reminded me.

I hesitated, thinking through the evidence. “I don’t know how he did it,” I admitted. “And I probably won’t understand it even after someone explains it to me.”

“I think the professor at Tulane can help us,” Remy suggested. “And for all we know, Chevalier could have spent years working on this, just patiently buying up shares when these folks were alive.”

“You could be right,” I said. “These three have all died in the last two years.”

“I’m sure that has something to do with it.”

“Let’s get back to the news room,” I said, glancing at my watch. “We have quite a story to tell.”

“I’m just wondering what else Chevalier was up to,” Remy said as we hurried back to the car.



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