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“No,” he said.
“You have no memory of it?”
“That wasn’t what I said. It wasn’t fifteen years back. It was seventeen. The spring of 1988.”
“What happened?”
“Wasn’t much to it. A couple of colored men tried to pry the back window while Cesaire was mopping up. He come out the back do’ and chased them out in a cane field. Fired a shell in the air. I think they were after booze instead of money. I don’t think I even wrote it up.”
“You didn’t write it up?”
“No, I don’t think I did.”
“What kind of weapon did Cesaire fire in the air, Mr. Paul?”
“Cain’t hear you. The earpiece on this phone ain’t no good.”
“You said he fired a shell, Mr. Paul. Did Cesaire fire a shotgun over these fellows’ heads?”
“Maybe it was.”
“Was it a cut-down twelve-gauge?”
The phone was silent. “Sir?” I said.
“I’m in my years now. My memory ain’t that good.”
“We’re not talking about an illegal gun charge, Mr. Paul. This is a homicide investigation. Was Cesaire in possession of a sawed-off shotgun?”
“Yes, suh, he was.”
“Thank you.” I started to lower the receiver into the cradle.
“Mr. Robicheaux?”
“Yes, sir?”
“I been knowing Cesaire Darbonne fifty years. He’s a good man.”
He was a good man, I said to myself.
After I hung up, I went into Helen’s office. “I think I got taken over the hurdles. I think Cesaire Darbonne murdered Tony Lujan,” I said.
She sat back in her chair, widening her eyes.
“I found a witness to the Yvonne Darbonne homicide. A retarded black man by the name of Ripton Armentor saw a silver car speeding away after he heard a gunshot. He wrote down three numbers from the license tag. He gave them to Cesaire Darbonne the next day.”
She closed then opened her eyes. “Oh, boy,” she said, more to herself than to me.
“I did some more research into Cesaire’s history, too. Seventeen years back, a plainclothes investigated an attempted break-in at Cesaire’s bar. Cesaire was in possession of a cut-down twelve-gauge that he probably salvaged from a shotgun that exploded on him after he got some mud in the barrel.”
“Cesaire followed Tony the night Tony was supposed to meet Monarch?”
“That’s my guess. He blew Tony apart, then planted the weapon in Monarch’s car.”
“Why Monarch’s?”
“Because everyone knows Monarch was selling dope to white teenagers. The autopsy showed Yvonne was full of drugs when she died. Cesaire probably blamed Monarch for her death as much as he did Tony.”
