Standing in the Rainbow - Fannie Flagg [202]
Seymour waddled back and sat down on a box and continued to search his pockets for a match. “Hey, Wendell—throw me your lighter for a minute.”
Wendell, preoccupied with trying to decide whether or not to raise Hamm, reached in his shirt pocket and tossed his heavy silver Zippo with the marine insignia on it back to him. Seymour reached out but missed, and it sailed on past him. As it was turning over in midair, the top of the lighter flew open, and when it hit the side of one of the boxes, it landed right smack on its small wheel. As people often say when such a freak thing happens, “If you tried you would not be able to do it again in a million years.” The spark from the lighter ignited the dry straw the liquor was packed in and started to spread like wildfire.
What none of the men knew was that a few months ago, the real owner of the boat, Mr. Anthony Leo, had acquired some stolen dynamite he was planning to use in the future to settle a business dispute. And he had it stashed in a secret compartment in the bottom of The Betty Raye for safekeeping.
The gallons of flammable formaldehyde, boxes of ninety-proof alcohol, and a cargo full of dynamite below proved to be not only illegal but a lethal combination. Two men who were out on the river in a rowboat fishing that night came in and said they had just seen a huge comet come hurtling down from the sky. They said it had shot across the horizon and had landed about a mile upriver. But they were wrong. What they had seen that night had not been a comet coming down. It had been Hamm Sparks, boat, and cronies going up!
The bad news: This spectacular event had certainly ended a remarkable political career. The good news: Hamm Sparks had always wanted to go as high in the world as he could—and he had. And as usual, the rest of the men had just been along for the ride.
But as it turned out, there was one man who had not been along that night.
Cecil Figgs had failed to show up at the time they were scheduled to leave and they had left without him, which was fine with him. He was having too much fun. He had left the car keys with Rodney, and Cecil figured he could always fly home.
He woke up in New Orleans two days later in a seedy hotel in the French Quarter with a bad hangover. His young companion was gone but had left a note.
Dear Ramon,
Thanks for the good time. Call me the next time you are in town.
Love,
Todd
Cecil always used the name Ramon Novarro when he was out of town. When Cecil suddenly realized it was Tuesday and that he had missed taking his mother to the eye doctor the day before, he felt sick with guilt. He would have to call her right away, but not before he had a cup of coffee. Cecil dressed and walked next door to eat breakfast and figure out what he would say to his mother, who was sure to be upset. Shortly before his first sip of coffee he picked up the Times-Picayune newspaper someone had left on the counter. When he saw the front page he almost fainted.
HAMM SPARKS, FOUR COMPANIONS PRESUMED DEAD
The article underneath the pictures of all five men, including him, said the police believed the missing men had most likely been murdered and as far as they could tell, it looked like the work of professionals. At the moment they were questioning several men in St. Louis with Chicago mob connections.
What little hair Cecil had stood up on the back of his head. He had no idea what had happened. After he got over the initial shock of the whole thing, his first instinct was to run and call his mother. But then he realized that if someone had been out to kill