“We need to put you on the payroll. But I don’t want you at risk, Alafair. The Abelards and their minions have no bottom.”
“You’ve got it all wrong, Dave. Here’s the rest of it. Lawyers for the estate of Layton Blanchet are trying to get Bernadette’s donation to the Nature Conservancy nullified. At the time of her death, she was only seventeen and not of legal age. Layton Blanchet was backing a group that was going to build a giant processing plant that would convert sugarcane into ethanol. If Timothy Abelard was a player, he was a minor one.”
“Don’t bet on it.”
“Dave, I think Carolyn Blanchet is at the center of all this.”
“It doesn’t matter what you think. You have to stay out of it. For once in your life, will you listen to me?” I shut my eyes at the thought of what I had just said. I wanted to hit myself with the phone receiver.
“I thought you’d want the information,” she said.
“I do.”
“You have a peculiar way of showing it.”
“Where are you?”
“In my car. What difference does it make?”
“There’s little that I understand about this investigation. Timothy Abelard is surrounded by people who seem more connected with his past than his present. I’m talking about Caribbean dictators and paramilitary thugs. Mr. Abelard is a neocolonial and happens to live here rather than on the edge of an empire. But I’m convinced he’s ruthless and perhaps perverse. Why else would he abide a man like Robert Weingart?”
“It’s because of Kermit, Dave. Kermit is weak and dependent and probably can’t deal with the fact that he’s gay. That doesn’t mean he’s a bad person.”
“Don’t buy into that.”
“You’re unteachable, but I love you anyway.”
“Don’t hang up.”
Too late.
I called her back, but she didn’t answer. I waited fifteen minutes and called home and got the message machine. Molly was at her office at a rural development foundation on the bayou, one that helped poor people build homes and start up small businesses. I dialed her number, then hung up before anyone could answer. Molly had enough worries without my adding to them. I went into Helen’s office and told her what Alafair had discovered.
“An ethanol plant? That’s what all this is about?” Helen said.
“Part of it, at least.”
“The local sugar growers are already trying to build one. This is a separate deal, though?”
“It’s just one more instance of the locals getting screwed by somebody who pretends to be their ally,” I said.
She clicked her nails on her blotter. “So maybe Carolyn Blanchet saw her husband’s fortunes going down the toilet and decided to blow his head off and take over his businesses. Think that’s possible?”
“Yeah, this might explain the motivation for the murder of Bernadette Latiolais, but what about Fern Michot?”
“You don’t know Carolyn Blanchet.”
“She’s not only a dominatrix but homicidal as well?”
“Want me to go into some details I’ve heard?”
“Not really.”
“There’s a world out there you don’t know about, Dave. I think it’s one you don’t want to hear about.”
“I don’t want my daughter to get hurt.”
“How is Alafair going to get hurt?”