Chapter 50

Fire!

 

 

 

Before she left the courthouse, Cleo told Johnnie she was pretty much in the clear and that she would make sure it was over by securing an official dismissal. Johnnie thanked her and got into the car. Sadie pulled away from the curb and headed home. As they rode in silence, both of them were in deep thought, reliving the nightmare of bullets flying, whistling as they sought to sink into the flesh of their intended and unintended victims. This was the second such incident for Johnnie, and much like all experiences, it was easier the second time.

For some unknown reason, Johnnie’s mind focused on Meredith Shamus’ testimony and how upset she was about the affair she’d had with Earl, even though she knew it had been over for quite some time. It occurred to her that Meredith’s death would usher in a whole new era for the Shamus family. Earl would finally take over Buchanan Mutual and all the wealth that came along with it. She found it ironic that he would end up with everything when he had married Meredith in hopes of getting his hands on her money from the beginning. Somehow that didn’t seem right to her, that the wicked would prevail, at least for now.

As her thoughts deepened, she remembered how her defense team had learned of Meredith’s involvement and how the Sentinel gathered its facts about the Beauregard secret. The whole thing with Meredith began to unravel the moment Johnnie told Goldstein everything that had happened to her, over breakfast at Walter Brickman’s. She began by telling him what Earl Shamus and her mother had done to her when she was still innocent. She finished her gripping life story by telling Goldstein about the inheritance money she received from Grandpa Nathaniel.

Everyone who might have given the Sentinel’s society page writer the story about Johnnie being a Beauregard by blood had something to lose, except for Earl and Meredith Shamus. The fifty thousand they had been duped out of, and the way Johnnie ripped into his heart were more than enough motivation to give the writer a juicy story that would get the attention of nearly everyone in New Orleans. However, there was no way Earl and Meredith would know the secret. It was so secret that it was rarely talked about on the black or the white side of the family.

As a matter of fact, the article in the society section was too specific for guesswork and innuendo, as it might appear to someone who didn’t know the facts. To the casual reader, the article probably came off as juicy aristocratic prattle, embarrassing skeletons with no real substance to verify the story’s veracity. After the Garden District’s affluent had its brief amusement, the article would have become an urban legend of sorts, and that would have been the end of it. But since Johnnie knew the story was far more truth than speculation, she knew someone had told the Sentinel the facts about both sides of her family, which raised serious suspicions in her defense team’s minds.

Led by Goldstein, the defense team began to suspect that someone had put listening devices in Johnnie’s house. How else would the Sentinel know so much accurate information about the Beauregard family? Johnnie hadn’t told the Sentinel, and Ethel certainly wouldn’t have. They searched Johnnie’s home and found microphones surreptitiously planted throughout the house. They believed it was the work of a professional who knew her schedule and came to retrieve the tapes when it was convenient. If they were right, that meant a private detective was likely involved.

With that morsel of information, they began to consider who, if they had the information, would take pleasure in seeing the story in print. Private detectives were expensive, so they knew it had to be someone who could actually pay for long hours of surveillance. Once they figured out that much, they knew, or rather believed it was Earl and Meredith Shamus. They had the money and the motivation to destroy Johnnie Wise with extreme prejudice. The Beauregards were unfortunate victims of the plot to devastate Johnnie—collateral damage.

There were a number of capable private detectives in New Orleans, and the defense team had two weeks to find the one hired by the Shamuses. Dee Dee Wellington was a good-looking blonde with enough curves to cause traffic pile-ups at a busy intersection when she wore a tight-fitting sweater. Her magnificent breasts would be more than enough of a distraction. So distracting were they that even a detective with high integrity might drop his guard if he was suspicious of her at the initial meeting.

Dee Dee had shown her delicious cleavage to a dozen or so private investigators before she entered the office of Tony Hatcher. Her cover story was simple but effective. She was married to a rich guy who ran around on her constantly, but she didn’t have proof. Once Hatcher agreed to take her case, she asked for references, which he didn’t hesitate to give her. The names and telephone numbers of at least five women were on the paper he gave her, and Meredith Shamus’ name was at the top. Later, the defense team went back to Hatcher’s office and threatened to have him arrested for breaking and entering. They also threatened to sue him for invasion of privacy. The lawsuit wouldn’t have amounted to much, but the cost of the suit would have cleaned him out due to attorney fees. It wasn’t long before he spilled his guts and told them everything.

However, Johnnie thought Goldstein’s strategy had worked too well. She didn’t want any more people to die—not because of her; but die they did. His plan was to slowly lead Meredith down a path, upset her, and then surprise her with the information Hatcher provided when she least expected it. No one expected her to try to attack Johnnie the way she had. They had no way of knowing that Ethel would lose touch with reality either.

Cleo had explained that when Ethel saw what Goldstein had done to Meredith, she probably knew she was the next turkey to be carved up and served to the jury—she was right, too. The destruction would have been complete, with zero opportunity for resuscitation. Ethel wasn’t about to be publicly humiliated and later arrested for murdering her husband. She figured Goldstein was going to go after her and she would die in prison anyway. Having nothing to lose, she decided to kill the judge for allowing a white woman to be ripped to shreds publicly, Goldstein for being so good at cross examination, and Johnnie because if anybody deserved a bullet in the head, she did, since she was the cause of it all. The way she probably saw it, they could all play pinochle in the fiery flames of hell together—that very day.

“We got you niggers this time!” a white male screamed from a passing pickup truck.

Sadie and Johnnie had no idea what he was referring to until they neared Ashland Estates, which was engulfed in flames that seemed to reach the sky. The whole community would be lost because not a single fire truck came to put the blaze out. They later learned that their Fire Department had been set on fire too.