The Puzzle of Piri Reis (7 page)

Read The Puzzle of Piri Reis Online

Authors: Kent Conwell

Tags: #Mystery, #Detective

"I understand" I glanced at the list. "Just a couple
more. Joe Hogg and Lamia Odom."

"Lamia? Bernard's niece?"

I nodded.

He lifted his eyebrows. "I've met her a few times outside the museum. To my knowledge, she's never had
any interest in the arts. As for Hogg, he's a wealthy man
who believes buying art treasures will aid him and that
wife of his to climb the rungs, so to speak, of local society. I've never been to his home, but from what I hear,
he has many valuable treasures on display."

I arched an eyebrow at his expression, that wife. "I
take it you don't approve of his wife."

A sly grin curled his lips. "You haven't met them
yet, have you?"

'No.

He chuckled. "You'll know what I mean when you
do"

I laughed with him. "One last question. Is there
anyone else who might be able to provide me more information about these individuals?"

He pondered the question a moment, then nodded.
"Rebecca Wentworth. She knows every collector, every
single individual interested in the arts in San Antonio.
Here, I'll give you her number."

 

I pulled into the small parking lot at the side of the
Odom mansion and walked around to the front. Moffit
had given me some information to chew on. Perhaps
Ted and Edna could add to it.

Ted was out but Edna showed me to the den, making
small talk on the way. "This is a magnificent house," I
remarked as our heels clicked on the polished heart pine
floor.

"Yes. Mr. Odom's father built it. He was quite
wealthy."

"Ted said Mr. Odom designed puzzles."

Keeping her left hand at her side, she opened the
door. "Yes, for forty-five years." She stepped into the
den and indicated four framed crossword puzzles on
the wall. One was crooked. "Those are some of his."

I whistled softly. "Puzzle writing must pay good. It probably takes a bundle to maintain such an elaborate
house."

"Not all that well." She laughed and reached up to
straighten the frame on the wall. I couldn't help noticing a patchy brown spot the size of a silver dollar on the
back of her left hand, and I understood then why she
preferred to keep it at her side. "However, he was paid
more than most puzzle writers. He was quite accomplished in the art. Fortunately, his father left him well
provided for."

"I see. And you've been with him ..."

"Thirty-four years. I was going to retire in another
two years and move to Lake Tahoe and all the excitement. I've always wanted to live there with the snow.
Make new friends." She paused. Sadness clouded her
eyes. "Looks like I won't have to wait now."

I surveyed the den. She dabbed a handkerchief at
the tears filling her eyes. "He was a good man"

"That's what I've been told." It was a white lie. "Did
you see him that night?"

She drew a deep breath. "Only when I was leaving.
I always let him know before I left."

"At seven"

"Yes. I came up here that night, and he was sitting
at his desk reading one of his favorite books, the Dictionary of Ancient Phoenician Maps." She paused and
bit her lips. "I don't suppose I should say reading as
much as studying the book. I-I-never saw him
again. Alive that is."

"Do you think the map was stolen?"

She shook her head. "No. I believe he hid the map,
but Teddy and I searched the den without success"

"But didn't he tell Ted that the map was in the den?"

Her slight shoulders sagged. "That's what I don't
understand. He always gave the den as the location of
the map" She hesitated. "Unless .. "

"Unless what?"

Chewing on a thin lip, she thought a moment. "Mr.
Odom always played with words. He loved puns. He'd
laugh like a child when he ran across a particularly
outrageous one"

I frowned. "I don't follow you"

Slowly, she shook her head. Not a hair in her tightly
coiffed bun moved. "I'm sorry, Mr. Boudreaux. What
I meant to say was-"

"Call me Tony"

"All right, Tony. I've been thinking about the map,
and I can't help wondering if he really meant the
map was in the den" She paused and grinned selfconsciously. "Sounds foolish I guess, but he was like
that. I wouldn't be surprised if he said that just to mislead Teddy. Or anyone else looking for the map"

I grimaced. "You mean, when he said it was hidden in
the den, he didn't really mean it was hidden in the den?"

She lifted a tentative eyebrow. "Yes" Hesitating another moment, she shrugged. "I guess that sounds farfetched"

I studied her a moment. "Far-fetched or not, it's an
interesting idea. Any thoughts on what he might have
meant?"

She grimaced. "That's the problem. No idea at all."

"Did you see anyone around that night?"

Biting at her thin bottom lip, she shook her head
slowly. "Not that I remember. Wait, a white car, a big
one, was pulling away from the curb when I left the
house"

"What kind, do you know?"

She frowned sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I don't know
much about them."

"But you say that was about seven"

"A few minutes after."

"And then you went home?"

She hesitated, studying me. A faint smile played
over her lips. "No. That was a special night." She grimaced. "Or, it was going to be. Don Quick. He sings
the golden oldie-type songs. He had a one-night-only
concert at The Clock down on the River Walk" She
paused, smiling sheepishly. "I'm a big fan of his. I tried
to get a picture with him, but the best I could do was
one by his poster in front of the clock. I have it on my
wall if you want to see it."

"Sure. When I come down. It's almost six. If you
don't mind, I want to prowl around some. See what I
can find. Lock the front door when you leave. I'll make
sure it's locked behind me"

She glanced at the simple watch on her wrist. "That
won't be necessary. Teddy will be in any time now."

I studied her another moment. "You always call him
Teddy. You're not family."

She smiled shyly. "Oh no, but I almost raised Teddy myself. His mother died in childbirth. Mr. Odom hired
a nanny, but by the time she moved on a few years later
Teddy and I were as close as brother and sister, although
I was many years his senior."

I filed that little piece of information away in the
back of my mind.

In the den, I thumbed through every book, peered at
every page in every folder in the file cabinet, searched
beneath every stick of furniture, unzipped every cushion and felt inside; opened up all four clocks on the
walls; removed and took apart every single one of
the eclectic paintings and puzzles on the wall; rapped
my knuckles on Magellan's bust in case it was hollow;
and checked every single pine board in the floor for
any loose ones. I tore the den apart.

When I finished, I stepped back and shook my
head. That map was not in the den. At that moment,
Ted entered. "Any luck?"

Remembering Edna's suggestion, I replied, "No.
Now tell me. Exactly what did your father say about
the location of the map?"

Ted pursed his lips. "He said the location of the
map was in the den."

I slipped in at Odom's desk and wrote out Ted's reply. I showed it to him. "Are you sure this is what he
said. `The location of the map was in the den.' Could
he have phrased it any differently?"

He looked at me, puzzled. "That's exactly how I remember it."

"Edna came up with the idea that perhaps the map
was hidden elsewhere, that the directions your father
left were more of a puzzle. What do you think?"

Ted stroked his fleshy jaw, which was beginning to
develop jowls. "I wouldn't put it past him, but I always
assumed it was in the den. Besides, what else could
`the location of the map was in the den' mean? That's
why I really believe someone stole it."

"The same one you think murdered your father?"

He looked at me forlornly. Slowly, he shook his
head. "I don't know. Honestly I don't know, but that's
the only thing that makes sense to me"

I indicated the four crossword puzzles on the wall.
"What about those?"

"I thought of that. I worked them. They're no help."

My stomach growled. I looked at one of the clocks.
Almost eight. "Well, I'm going back to the hotel. Work
on some notes, and hit the ground running in the morning. I'll probably drop by around ten or so if you'll be
here. I might have some more questions."

He winked. "I'll be here"

`By the way, you wouldn't happen to have Ervin
Maddox's telephone number handy?"

"No, but Edna does. Let's take a look."

While Ted looked up Maddox's number and address
from the telephone file on Edna's desk, I studied the
wall of snapshots. There was one of Ted and an older
man, whom I could tell was his father, on the porch of
the mansion. Many of the pictures were candid, shots of Odom and various celebrities over the last thirty or
forty years.

I found a shot of Edna riding on one of the riverboats, and another had her sitting on a bench in front of
a huge, translucent clock with contrasting black stripes
marking the hours. Next to her was a cardboard cutout
of Don Quick. This must have been the snapshot of
which she had spoken. Behind her, the clock registered
the time as 8:50, ten minutes before Odom's death.

As usual, she was dressed nicely, and as usual, she
had taken care to make sure that one hand covered the
unsightly patch on her other.

"Here you are" I looked up as Ted handed me Maddox's address and phone number.

During the couple of hours I'd been in the Odom
mansion, a front had pushed through, drying the air
and dropping the temperature several degrees. I drew
a deep breath of crisp air into my lungs. It would be a
brisk night down on the River Walk.

I went straight from the parking lot at the Grand Isle
to Pooky's, brushing past hotel signs proclaiming the
upcoming Tenth Annual Bracero Festival the coming
Saturday. Pooky's, a laid-back restaurant, or at least as
laid-back as any other venue along the walk, was
jammed between Green Chiles and Dona Margarita's.
Jack was waiting at a table on the balcony overlooking
the winding river, down which small pontoon boats
hauled laughing tourists. He waved when he spotted me.

From the glitter filling his eyes and the jokes spilling
off his lips, I figured he had spent an enjoyable afternoon drinking and watching women.

While I was never a role model for AA, the organization did help me break the habit. As much as I hate
to admit it, I did indulge from time to time on special
occasions. That little caveat holds true only if you
considered a confrontation with my boss or the time I
witnessed a beautiful woman walk into a whirling propeller as a special occasion.

When I slipped in at the table across from Jack, I
noticed several different glasses on the table, all empty.
When I commented on them, he announced that he
was trying every drink on the menu that night. I rolled
my eyes and ordered a draft beer and a side dish of
pork tapas.

A couple of years back, because of a broken arm,
Jack talked me into driving him to Vicksburg, Mississippi to his father's funeral. Turned out, his father had
been murdered, and I helped Jack find the person responsible.

Unfortunately, the perp turned out to be Jack's sister, who managed to escape the proverbial long arm of
the law; but Joe Basco, New Orleans mob boss, had a
longer arm that found her on a deserted road in the
middle of the swamp twenty miles south of Vicksburg.

When all of the loose ends were finally tied up,
Jack Edney, ex-schoolteacher and stand-up comic on
Austin's Sixth Street, was several million dollars richer.

He invested about half, dated my ex-wife, and in general lived life however the urge struck. On two or
three occasions, he even helped on some of my cases,
so we had plenty to chit-chat about.

I pushed the platter of tapas across the table to him.
"Have one."

He shrugged and poked one down.

I was still nursing my draft beer while Jack downed
a banana daiquiri, gobbled another tapa, took on a
vodka stinger, swallowed another tapa, and gulped a
bourbon old-fashioned. He finished the evening with a
tapa washed down with a rum sombrero cooler.

"Come on, Jack, you've had enough. I've got to do
a little work tonight."

He grinned sappily and hefted his bowling ballshaped body to his feet. He wobbled unsteadily. I took
his arm. "You okay? Can you make it?"

Pulling his belly into his chest, he huffed, "Certainly.
I can landle my hiquor-I mean, handle my liquor, unlike some I could men-mench-name"

I laughed. "Sure you can, Jack. Come on. I'll give
you a hand. Where are you staying?"

He paused, a puzzled expression on his face. He
looked up at me and blinked a couple of times in an effort to focus his eyes, but they just gazed through me. "I
forget"

"What about a key?"

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