Killer On A Hot Tin Roof Read Free Page B

somebody else a “big lug,” but gave up after a second, when I couldn’t remember. Instead I asked, “Are you interested in Tennessee Williams, too, Mr. Madison?”
    He grunted. “Not really. I’m not much on plays and things like that. But Callie convinced me that this would be a good vacation for us.”
    He didn’t sound to me like she had completely convinced him.
    “And I’ve always wanted to try some of that food they have there,” he went on, getting a little more animated now. “I want to go to that fat guy’s restaurant.”
    “Paul Prudhomme,” Callie said.
    “Yeah, him. That fat guy. I like that Cajun stuff.”
    “Well, you’re goin’ to the right place, then,” I told him. “New Orleans has some of the best Cajun cooking in the world.”
    Jake Madison nodded. “We’ll see about that.”
    His wife rested her hand on his. “Surely you want to do more in New Orleans than just eat, Jake.”
    “I might take in some of that Dixieland jazz, too. ‘When the Saints Go Marching In’ and all that.”
    “And you’ll come see me present my paper on Williams’s use of imagery in
Suddenly, Last Summer
?”
    “What? Oh, yeah, sure. Last summer. Can’t wait.”
    I felt the growing strain in the air and thought that I might be contributing to it, so I figured I’d better move on. I said, “If there’s anything I can do for you folks to make y’all’s trip better, you just let me know.”
    Callie turned that hundred-watt smile on me again. “Oh, we certainly will.”
    I wondered how much cajoling it had taken for her to get her husband to come along with her on this trip. Quite a bit, I suspected. Without the Cajun food and the saints marching in, I wasn’t sure if Jake Madison would have ever agreed.
    Dr. Paige was sitting next to Dr. Jeffords in the next pair of seats. She was in the aisle and he was next to the window. She looked up and gave me a curt nod, but Dr. Jeffords, the one who looked like Orville Redenbacher to me, was friendlier.
    “I’d say we’re off to a good start, wouldn’t you, Ms. Dickinson?”
    “We’re all here, we left on time, and the plane didn’t crash on take-off. Three for three.”
    He laughed. “That’s a rather fatalistic way to look at it, but I suppose you’re right.”
    “Are the two of you looking forward to the festival?”
    Dr. Paige said, “I was … until I realized that it’s liable to turn into a sideshow, rather than a serious literary conference.”
    Dr. Jeffords frowned and leaned toward her. “Now, Tamara–”
    “You’re the head of the English Department, Andrew,” she said. “You must have known about this ridiculous stunt that Frasier’s trying to pull.”
    “As a matter of fact, I didn’t.” A crisp note edged into his voice. “Dr. Frasier didn’t have to clear his presentation with me. You could take it up with the festival organizers, though. I’m sure he had to submit an abstract of his paper to them for approval before it was placed on the program.”
    Dr. Paige gave a little shake of her head. “It’s not worth the trouble. Let him go ahead and make a fool of himself. He’ll never be allowed to present again.”
    “But what if he has something worthwhile to say? Shouldn’t we give him the benefit of the doubt?”
    “You think that old man was really some cabana boy that Williams picked up?”
    “I don’t have any proof that he’s not,” Jeffords said.
    That made Dr. Paige frown. She couldn’t disprove Burleson’s claim, at least not at this point, because she didn’t evenknow the details of it. She’d have to attend Frasier’s presentation for that.
    Me, I didn’t give a hoot ‘n’ holler one way or the other. I just wanted to shepherd this bunch to New Orleans and then get ‘em all back home safely to Georgia. If I did that, it would be a good trip.
    “I’ll see y’all later,” I told them. “If you need anything, you let me know. That’s what I’m here for.”
    Two of the professors who’d