Le Petit Corpse: The Final Episode

So there’s your background. Except for one thing. Jacques Rameau hated my guts with a passion. He believed I was responsible for his sister’s death. Here’s how that came down. Julianne Rameau was a beautiful brunette, five years her brother’s junior, and married to one Carlos Gossett, a trapper who had migrated in from Texas. Carlos was kind of a loser, and I became acquainted with Julianne when we were both working at the Times-Picayune. We did a few coffee breaks together, and, well, one thing led to another. After a few months, though, Julianne kind of went off the deep end. She ended up committing suicide. An ugly thing, with poison and notes and such. My name showed up in one of the notes. That was two years ago.

Carlos seemed to be little affected, and just kept on living his rowdy life. But last weekend he got at the wrong end of a thirty-eight, and today is his funeral. There is a lot of dying in this story, and I see no way to make it pretty.

Of course we are at Jacques’ place, with the full mini-casket treatment. Carlos has no money, but Jacques is picking up the tab for this one. Attendance is light. Jacques is there, along with the priest who is doing the service. Carlos’ brother is in the third row, drunk as usual. On the far right of the first row is a grizzled old man holding a houndstooth hat, like the one Bear Bryant used to wear. The guy looks familiar, but I can’t place him.

After the service, I walk up and take a look into the mini-casket. I get the surprise of my life. The doll is not Carlos. It is a perfect replica of me! Something tells me I should make a bid on this fine piece of art. I think I’ll start it off at fifty grand. I wouldn’t want to offend the artist, would I?