The Puzzle of Piri Reis (13 page)

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Authors: Kent Conwell

Tags: #Mystery, #Detective

BOOK: The Puzzle of Piri Reis
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She just stared at him.

I continued. "What about the map? Why do you think
it belongs to you? At least, part of it."

"That's why I sued him the first time. We agreed if
I could find it, he'd buy it and my commission would
be half interest in the map. He backed out. He paid me
my standard ten percent commission, insisting we had
never agreed on any partnership arrangement."

"How long ago was that?"

"Five years."

"Is that when you told him you'd get the map one
way or another?"

Cobb's face crumbled. "How-how-"

"Ted Odom."

His wife looked up at him in alarm. "Leo. You didn't
tell me that"

He shook his head impatiently. "It was just a figure
of speech, Martha. Sure I wanted the map, but I did
not steal it. And that's the truth" He turned back to
me. "Well, any more questions?"

"Yeah, a couple more. Moffit at the museum said you
offered him the map. Why would you do that if you and
Odom were in it together?"

His face blanched. He stammered.

I had him on the ropes, so I threw another punch.
"One more question. Why are you and your wife lying
about the evening of October second?"

He glanced at his wife in surprise.

She shook her head. "I didn't tell him anything,
Leo"

Cobb shot me a look of pure rage.

"Look, Mr. Cobb, either explain to me or the police why your wife claims you watched TV together all evening and you claim she went upstairs and you
worked in your office"

The two just stared at me.

Finally, I said, "One of you is lying, maybe both, I
don't know which, but to be honest, what you say
about how Odom cheated you is motive big-time.
That's exactly how the cops will look at it." I shrugged.
"So tell me or tell them"

Martha Cobb's eyes pleaded with her husband. "Tell
him the truth, Leo. Tell him what you told me. Maybe
he can help"

The anxiety in her voice sent prickles up my arms.
Maybe he can help? Help how?

Leo Cobb's face turned ashen. He sagged back down
on the couch. "All right. Yeah, I was there"

His wife wrung her hands.

He shook his head slowly. "It just doesn't seem fair."

 

I almost felt sorry for the broken man staring up at
me. I've seen enough in my life to wonder just how a
word like "fair" ever made it into our vocabularyprobably as the illegitimate offspring of "deceitful"
and "underhanded."

Staring blankly at the coffee table, Cobb nodded
slowly. In a monotone, he said, "I went there that night
to steal the map. A wealthy industrial CEO in France
wanted it for his private collection. Eight million dollars. I knew Bernard planned to attend the exhibition at
the museum. Edna would be gone, and I figured Teddy
would be out prowling the streets like he always is.
There was a light on in Bernard's office. That didn't surprise me. He often left his lights burning all night."

He paused and drew a deep breath. "The foyer light
was on. I unlocked the door and went inside. I figured if he was in his office, I'd come up with some excuse."

He hesitated when he saw the sudden frown on my
face. "Oh, I had a key. That's how close Bernard and I
were. We'd worked together so often that I would
come and go as needed. Anyway, when I opened the
door to his office, I saw him on the floor. At first, I
thought he had fallen and knocked himself out. I tried
to rouse him but he didn't respond. I put my ear to his
chest but there was no heartbeat."

He hesitated and shivered. "It was horrible. There
was a bloody knot on his head, and his eyes were open.
I'll never forget the look in those bloodshot eyes of his.
It was like he was staring at me, accusing me"

His voice choked off, and he sat staring at the coffee table. His wife scooted to his side and draped her
arm over his shoulders to console him.

After a moment, Cobb looked up at me, his face haggard. "Yeah, I was going to steal the map, but when I
found him like that, I ran. As fast as I could, I ran from
that house"

"Why didn't you call the police?"

The older couple looked at each other desperately.
In a cracked voice, he replied, "In our last argument, I
threatened to kill Bernard. His secretary heard me."

"Edna Hudson?"

"Yes," he replied almost inaudibly.

In a soft voice, I asked, "About what time were you
there?"

"Around nine-thirty or thereabouts." He looked up, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I didn't know
what had happened to him. From the knot on his head,
I figured someone hit him. I was scared. Like I said, I
couldn't afford to be involved. Edna knew I had threatened him. I knew I would be the main suspect"

He paused. "Later, I kept waiting for the police to
show up. I knew Edna would tell them of my threat,
and then I read it was an accident." He forced a weak
smile. "You've no idea how relieved I was" He paused
and frowned. "To be honest, I really thought someone
had killed Bernard"

I remained silent.

He shook his head. "I still don't know why Edna
didn't say something about it to the cops."

His last remark made me wonder the same thing.
Why hadn't Edna mentioned Cobb's threat? I filed it
away in the back of my head. "You say you went there
to steal the map. Did you know where the map was?"

"No.

"So you were just going to tear the office apart?"

Cobb hesitated. His eyes narrowed shrewdly, then
opened wide. He drew a deep breath. "No. The truth is,
I had forgotten all about a sarcastic comment he had
made during one of our arguments. Then one day last
month, for whatever reason, I remembered that remark" He studied me a moment before continuing. "I
wasn't going to mention it. Not to you or anyone, but
I'm tired of all the hassle, of the suspicion."

I waited expectantly. When he didn't continue I
started to prompt him, but his wife did it for me. "What did he say, Leo? If it'll clear you of any suspicion, tell
Mr. Boudreaux."

He looked around at her. His eyes grew soft, and a
gentle smile played over his lips. "All right, Martha.
All right." He turned back to me. "About three, maybe
four years ago, I told Bernard that one way or another,
the Piri Reis would be mine. He laughed and pointed
to those two printings on the den wall between the bookcases. Have you seen them?"

"The ones with a bunch of scribblings? Yeah"

"He said, you'll have to deal with those first."

I frowned. "Any idea what he meant?"

"No. I studied them, but I wasn't familiar with the
writing. Bernard said they were from an obscure dynasty back around 3400 AD, so, I figured he meant the
map was hidden behind one of them. They're all large
enough" Cobb shook his head.

With a wry chuckle, I said, "I took both of those
abstracts apart, down to the glass. There was no map
there."

His shoulders sagged. He laughed bitterly. "Wouldn't
you know? Even now, Bernard is getting the last laugh"

I studied him for a few moments. I wanted to believe the guy. From what I had seen, he was not clever
enough to have feigned the whole interview. "You said
you thought someone had murdered him."

Cobb nodded.

"Can you think of anyone who might have killed
him?"

After a moment, he shook his head. "No, no one in our circle, the art community, unless it was an accident.
But on the other hand, I figure everyone who knew him
believes he got what he deserved"

An accident! That was an interesting theory, although
it had nothing to do with the map. "You mean, an argument or something, and someone pushed Odom?"

"Yeah, but ... now that I think about it, I can tell you
someone who wanted him dead. That niece of his."

Martha looked up in alarm at her husband, but he
continued. "She was bleeding him dry. She was always wild, from the day Bernard first took her in. She
was around fifteen or sixteen then. He put her in a private school, and then when she finished college she
took off for Europe. She's back now, and from gossip
I hear, she's wanting more money."

As I drove away from the Cobb home, I realized I
was not much closer to finding the Piri Reis than
when I first started. Still, I had two more suspects to
interview-Lamia Sue Odom and Father Bertoldo Poggioreale.

Winding through the traffic, I replayed the last few
days. I hadn't met one person yet who couldn't have
taken the map. True, four or five had no motive, at least
no obvious motive. The map belonged to Ted; Edna had
a nice inheritance as did Lamia Sue, the niece I was on
the way to see. They had no reason to steal it.

Hogg had been at the Odom mansion, but claimed
he'd never gotten out of the Cadillac, which appeared
to be true, for Edna had been in the house until seven when she'd left, and spotted the vehicle pulling away
from the curb. Had he gone into the house, she would
have seen him.

Cobb admitted being inside, in the den with the dead
man. Had he stolen the map, he never would have admitted it. Thinking back over our interview, I knew
Cobb just wasn't that clever of a liar.

Now, all I had to do was find out about Odom's
niece and the good Father.

I've always enjoyed the San Antonio River Walk.
To a Louisiana country boy, the exotic venue is as close
to Venice as I'll ever get. Broad flagstone walks butting
up against twelve-foot limestone walls line the twisting river. Large mosaics of striking artistic skill depicting the rich history of the Hispanic culture are set
in the white limestone, reminding me of the ornate
stained glass windows in churches back home. Sidewalk tables offer the opportunity to relax and watch the
world saunter past.

From my inn, the Grand Isle, the Elena Towers was
just a short stroll. The day was growing late. I had no
idea if I could catch Lamia Sue Odom in or not, but I
thought I'd give it a shot. If I didn't, I'd try again in
the morning.

I had no sooner stepped onto the River Walk when I
heard my name called. I looked around to see Jack Edney waving exuberantly from the other side of the river.
"You coming over?" he shouted.

I nodded, irritated, then chided myself for being so. Jack was a good friend, even if he could be a pest at
times. Besides, after a visit with Lamia Sue, I wouldn't
mind relaxing at one of the sidewalk tables with a drink
and watching the world go by.

"How about something to drink?" he asked, grabbing
my hand and pumping my arm like we hadn't seen each
other in months.

"Not right now." I nodded to the Elena Towers in
the next block. "I'm going to try to catch someone up
there. Let's walk on down and get a table. You can enjoy one or two cool libations while I take care of some
business."

"Sounds like a winner to me," he gushed.

Despite the tourist season being over and a slight
nip in the air, there were still dozens of people on the
walk. "So, what have you been up to?" I asked as we
wound our way through the crowd.

"Not much. Went sightseeing after I got over my
hangover." He laughed. "I still don't know how much I
had to drink."

I laughed and patted his bulging belly, which was
hard as a rock. "Enough, my friend. Enough."

"Anyway, I went to the Alamo. You know what that
is, don't you?"

"Naturally. I might be from Louisiana but I've heard
about the Alamo." I grinned to myself and needled him.
"That's all I hear some of you Texans talk about, the
Alamo. Wasn't that some saloon or gas station or something?"

"Best watch it, partner. Them's fighting words," he replied with a grin. "Anyway, after the Alamo, I visited
all of the missions. There are five of them. Did you
know that? They were really interesting. I think I might
take Diane to them"

I glanced at him. "She's coming down?"

"Later." He paused and grinned shyly at me. "We're
thinking about getting married."

All I could do was gape at him. Finally, I found my
voice. "Married? That's great, Jack. Great"

He looked deep into my eyes. "You sure, Tony? Really sure? After all, you and Diane were married."

I laughed. "Yeah, but you'll be a better man for her
than I was."

He beamed. "I'm glad you think so" Jack continued
to babble. I let it go in one ear and out the other, preferring the ambiance of the lazy river to the nightmares he
was facing. As we passed beneath the Houston Street
Bridge, I noticed five or six stylishly dressed men and
women clustered against the rear wall at the back of the
sidewalk. Behind them, a twelve-foot mosaic depicted a
robed priest blessing a band of kneeling Indians.

One of the young men in the group glanced around
surreptitiously before quickly handing a bill to a young
brunet wearing heels, hip huggers, and one of those
peasant blouses with a tie neck. Moments later, the
group broke up. Two couples headed down the River
Walk. And the young woman in heels, accompanied by
a long-haired young woman in ripped jeans, western
shirt, and sandals, headed upriver.

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