Up Jumps the Devil

“Huh?”

“That’s what Thornton’s IOU chits are, aren’t they? He makes the losers sign bad checks for nonexistent goods or services he’s supposed to have provided as the operator of a tire and service business, right?”

“Whoa now, we didn’t get that far.”

But I was on my high horse and riding. “And then if the losers don’t make good before he puts their checks through, he comes to court when they bounce to get us to put the pressure on. Talk about brass balls!”

“Billy,” he reminded me.

That brought me down in a hurry.

“C’mon, Deb’rah. What do you know?”

“Billy Wall was in my court two or three weeks ago,” I said reluctantly. “Curtis Thornton brought charges against him for bouncing checks. About fifteen hundred dollars, if I remember right. They said it was for new tires and some engine work on Billy’s two-ton truck. I knew Billy was going to be selling Mr. Jap’s ornamental corn for several thousand and I told Thornton he could wait till then. He’s always taking bad checks and running to us and I thought maybe he’d start being more careful if I made him wait a little longer for his money. It never occurred to me that those so-called rubber checks were really IOUs.”

“And?” Dwight asked inexorably.

He knows me too well.

“And Billy didn’t buy new tires till this afternoon. At the Kmart. Billy’s wife was there, too, buying out the store. She spent almost seven hundred dollars and it barely made a dent in the stack of bills she was carrying in her purse. And there was Jamison watching them both. What was I supposed to think?”

He nodded grimly. “Just what I’m thinking. He was into Thornton for so much that he couldn’t really afford to give Jap Stancil his half of the money. Now what do you think would happen if he asked Stancil to wait a little longer?”

“Mr. Jap was too fired up about refurbishing that old garage of his,” I said. “He wouldn’t want to wait.”

“So Billy smashes him with a tire iron, keeps the money, and tells everyone he paid the old man and left him well and happy.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know, Dwight. He really seemed to like Mr. Jap and his wife says he’s all torn up about the murder.”

“He wouldn’t be the first killer that wished he could take it back as soon as he’d done it.”

“Besides,” I argued, “why would he break into the safe?”

“Maybe he’d signed chits for the old man.”

“Then all he’d have had to do was hand the money to Mr. Jap, wait till he opened the safe, and then kill him.”

“Maybe he didn’t remember signing anything till it was too late. Maybe he thought there was more money in the safe. Hell, I don’t know, Deb’rah. You want to stay around and ask him?”

“No,” I sighed, even though his question was purely rhetorical.

Jenny Wall had seemed so happy an hour ago, buying things for their house, thinking they were out of debt, looking forward to their first Christmas together with their first baby. This was going to shatter her.

24

« ^ » Many are made to believe, that in Carolina, as in Jamaica ... the whole year is one continual summer; but this is a mistake; they have the four revolving seasons as in Britain; the transitions to each are gentle and imperceptible.“Scotus Americanus,” 1773

As usual, Dwight had underestimated the speed with which news still travels. I hadn’t opened my mouth except to say hello to my oldest brother Robert, who was starting up the steps of the funeral home just ahead of me that evening, when his wife Doris said, “You hear about Curtis Thornton? If only we’d’ve known, Haywood and Isabel wouldn’t have had to go all the way to Atlantic City to gamble. They could’ve stayed right here in Colleton County.”

“What you talking?” Robert laughed and gave me a hug. “I doubt Thornton had slot machines and bright colored lights or any floor shows either, and that’s what Haywood loves.”

“Don’t forget room service,” I said, hugging him back.

“What do I love?” asked Haywood, who had appeared right behind us.

“Slot machines and floor shows,” I said. “Robert thinks Curtis Thornton messed up by not running a classier operation.”

“Ain’t that a sight?” Haywood shook his head. Organized gambling’s just fine in New Jersey, but he’s opposed to gambling in North Carolina, organized or amateur.

“And we just heard that Dwight thinks the Wall boy killed Jap Stancil so he could keep all the money to pay his gambling debts,” said Isabel. She clucked her tongue at the idea.

“Well, that’s what happens when you can’t leave it alone,” said Doris, who was one of the ones who disapproved of their trips to Atlantic City.

With a mild glance at the cigarette in Doris’s hand, Isabel said, “Any kind of addiction can be real bad.”