The Sporting House Killing by G. Powell (best non fiction books to read .TXT) 📕

new trial. They said the trial had been conducted unfairly, so the state tried him again. It was in the summer and I was out of class, so I watched. Townspeople were there in droves. Some of them called Papa names. They were packed into the courtroom, and they were angry, both at Nuñez and at Papa.”

His voice cracked. “I watched him at the counsel table as the trial began. The judge asked for counsel’s appearances on the record. When his turn came, Papa stood up straight as an arrow. People hissed at him from the gallery, but he didn’t pay any attention. He looked the judge in the eye and said in a voice more powerful than I’d ever heard, ‘Catfish Calloway for the defense.’ It sent a chill down my spine, and I knew right then I wanted to be a lawyer just like Papa.”

He wiped his cheek with the back of his hand.

Like father, like son. She smiled to herself. “And the verdict?”

“Convicted again, of course. And Papa appealed again. He argued the jury charge was erroneous, and the court of appeals agreed and ordered another trial.”

“So they tried him a third time?”

“No. Within a week, somebody found Nuñez hanging by the neck in his cell block.”

She gasped. He pulled the reins and came to a stop in front of the Sparks house. “Whoa!”

“Was it suicide?” she asked.

“That’s what the sheriff’s deputies said.” He took in a deep breath, then shrugged and smiled. “Well, you didn’t really ask me about all that, but that’s where the Latin motto comes from. I graduated from Baylor not long after that case and went off to the new law school in Austin. Baylor had closed its own law school, where Papa had gone, thinking the state didn’t need two law schools. Then after I graduated, I returned to Waco and went into practice with Papa. On my first day in my first law office, I found a box of calling cards on my desk.” He gestured at the card she held. “They had my name and ‘audi alteram partem.’”

She alighted from the carriage and watched him pull away. Mr. Calloway had a way of making Harley and her both feel as though they were doing something important. Tomorrow she’d do her part.

They wouldn’t let him down.

Chapter 13

Sadie had invited Miss Peach right into the parlor once she’d explained that she was there from the department store, Goldstein-Migel. So far, so good. Miss Peach sat on the edge of a sofa trying not to touch it. There was red velvet upholstery everywhere, just as Harley had described. The entire room was uncommonly tacky. He’d warned her about the art but not the overwhelming perfume. She pushed through her nausea.

Though it was early afternoon, Sadie was attired in a sheer linen nightgown draped low across her bosom. It was like a sign in the window announcing she was open for business. She wore her light brown hair up, a few stray strands escaping an otherwise tight knot. Just a little younger than Miss Peach, she was actually quite attractive despite an abundance of face paint. Her lips were so very, very red.

“I love your lip coloring, Miss Sadie. What shade is it?”

“Red.”

“Of course.”

“What can I do for you, honey?” A negligible coarseness in Sadie’s manner popped out when she spoke, but on the whole she seemed quite pleasant.

Miss Peach made to open her bag. “A gentleman came into my department and expressed a desire to purchase an evening gown for you. I believe he’s an admirer of yours.”

“Pshaw, I ain’t got no such admirer. You’re in the wrong place.”

“You are Miss Sadie Wiggins, aren’t you?”

“That’s me.”

“And this is Miss Jessie’s Boarding House?”

“Last time I noticed.” She shrugged her bare shoulders.

“Then I’m at the right place. Since I’m here to do a fitting, perhaps we might do it more privately in your bedchamber?” She glanced out the doorway into the entrance hall.

“Wait a minute,” Sadie said. “A fitting? A fitting for what?”

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t clear. This gentleman is purchasing an evening gown for you, and I’m here to measure you for it.”

“No, you’re not!” Sadie said, her face showing utter surprise.

“Once I have your measurements, I’ll come back with two or three gowns I think might serve you well. Shall we go to your chamber?”

Sadie seemed hesitant. “Who is this gent?”

Miss Peach fumbled through her handbag. “It’s in here somewhere . . . Well, bless me, I must have misplaced it. I had a note which bears his name and address.”

“I don’t know no gent who’d buy me a gown, lady. I still think you’re at the wrong house.”

“No, I’m sure it’s for you. I spoke with him myself. He mentioned you specifically. I don’t recall his name, but he was an older gentleman, quite bald.”

Sadie snickered. “So’s half my customers.”

“He told me he hadn’t been able to visit you in about two weeks. He said something about a friend of yours dying the night he was here, and he wanted to visit you again when things settled down. He said you were upset about your friend, and he wanted to give you a gift to make you feel better.”

“You mean when Georgia . . .”

“That’s it, I recall now he mentioned the name Georgia.”

“Let me check.” Sadie went to a ledger book on a table in the parlor and flipped through it. “Oh, was it Winky-Blinky?”

“Excuse me? Winky-Blinky?”

“Well, his name’s supposed to be Bill. At least that’s what he calls himself when he makes an appointment.” She pointed to the ledger. “We just call him Winky-Blinky.”

Miss Peach put a hand over her mouth. “Why?”

“That’s what he does. His right eye blinks and blinks and blinks, like he’s got something in it.” She laughed. “Then it stops blinking, and his left eye winks one time. It’s an affliction is what it is. He does that over and over if you talk to him much, so I don’t talk. I shut my eyes when we’re getting acquainted”—she