Family Plot Page #4

First Church

of Latter Day Saints,

Barlow Creek."

What about the son?

Edward Shoebridge.

He's their son.

Edward?

Yeah.

Okay. Nope.

Nothing.

What do you mean,

nothing?

There's gotta

be something.

Maybe it came later.

Wait a minute.

You're talking about

Eddie Shoebridge.

His headstone?

Yeah, that did come later.

I think in, uh, '65.

Sure, I remember

that kid.

He wasrt too popular

around here. Some say

he set that fire himself...

to get rid of his family,

and then disappeared...

to make it look like

he died in the fire too.

- They never did find his body.

- You mean, there's no body

in that grave?

Well, as I recollect,

that's why the local parson...

wouldn't say

any services for Eddie.

Well,

Wasrt there

a death certificate?

I wouldn't know about that.

And I don't need to know.

I'm just a businessman,

Mr. McBride.

Ah, here it is.

"Edward Shoebridge.

Granite special.

"Ordered, November 12.

"Paid for,

November 18, 1965.

$395."

Now, that's funny.

It's paid in cash.

They don't

usually do that.

Who was it?

I don't know, Mr. McBride.

I guess he didn't

want his name known.

Well, what

do you mean, he?

- You just said he.

- I did, didn't I?

Well, you know, I seem

to sort of remember...

that it was a man.

Yeah.

Ayoung fella.

Slightly bald. I'd say

in his late twenties.

And did you see him

again when you, uh...

Put in the headstone?

We didn't do that.

He came by and

picked it up himself.

Yes, I remember now.

In one of those tow trucks.

You know, the kind

that garages use?

Gotcha.

No, there is no

death certificate here

for Edward Shoebridge,

only Harry J. Shoebridge

and Sadie L. Shoebridge.

That's all you have?

Well, there is this.

It appears to be

an application for

a death certificate...

for one Edward Shoebridge,

dated November 4, 1965.

"Inasmuch as applicant could

furnish no proof of death...

"for party whose body

had never been found,

"and who could supply

no medical death certificate,

"and nothing from

the coroner's office,

the application was denied.

"Applicant, when informed

he could file a petition

for court action,

declined the suggestion."

Does it say who

the applicant was?

Yes.

"Request was made by

Joseph P. Maloney,

Barlow Creek."

Attagirl.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

- Fill 'er up?

- Please.

- You want to check

under the hood?

- If you would, please.

- Better be careful

with those matches.

- Oh. Right.

Sorry.

This your place?

Yeah.

Then you must be,

uh, "J. Maloney."

Tell me, does that

stand for, uh, John orJim?

- Joe.

- Right.

Everything's okay.

Funny, uh, you didn't

hardly need any gas.

Didrt need no oil...

Guess you didn't come here

for the car, huh, mister?

Could you get

my windshield, please?

Don't worry.

You wouldn't happen

to know a guy by the name

of Edward Shoebridge, would ya?

Used to live around here.

Name don't ring

no bell with me.

What would you be wantir

with this, uh, what's

his name, uh, Shoebridge?

Yeah.

Legal matter.

You a lawyer?

Yeah.

Name's McBride.

Frank McBride.

- First time I ever talked to

a lawyer didn't cost me money.

Actually, Mr. Maloney,

by talking to me you could

make yourself some money.

- Yeah?

- I'm prepared to pay

a reasonable sum of cash,

right now,

for any information that could

lead me to Eddie Shoebridge.

Where I come from,

lawyers are usually

bad news.

Oh, no.

Not this time.

This time they're good news.

Matter of fact, I think

that Eddie Shoebridge...

would be delighted

when he hears from me.

What are you

gonna tell him?

Well, my client has asked me

to keep that confidential.

Who hired you

to find this guy?

- That's confidential also.

- Sure like to help you,

Mister...

Business ain't

all that good around here.

- I think you can help me.

- Is that right?

Mm-hmm. See, people

around here have been telling me

that Eddie Shoebridge is dead.

Well, if he's dead, looks like

he ain't gonna be hearir...

all that good news

you have to tell him, huh?

I think he's alive.

Sure don't keep

this car very clean.

You want to tell me

why you put a headstone

on an empty grave, Maloney?

What headstone?

The one you paid $395 for

back in 1965.

You owe me $2.47, mister.

Two weeks before that, you went

to the county courthouse...

and asked for a certificate

of death for Edward Shoebridge,

and you were turned down.

You wanna give me

your credit card?

No.

Credit cards are out.

Like you,

I prefer to pay...

in cash.

Now, this one happens

to be my personal favorite.

Isn't it exquisite?

Probably too expensive

for me.

Can I help you, sir?

Excuse me.

I'll be right back.

Uh, Mrs. Clay?

Would you take care

of Mrs. Cunningham

for a few moments?

Certainly, Mr. Adamson.

I'm afraid I rather like it.

Hey, Eddie.

You old son of a b*tch.

If it's all the same to you,

I prefer Arthur Adamson.

Now what in the hell

are you doing here?

Had to see you about

something kind of urgent.

That's all, Eddie... Arthur.

- Couldrt you have phoned me?

- Some things you don't

put on no telephone.

Hey, uh, you got

any booze around?

All right, Joseph.

What is it this time?

New freezer

for your wife?

Mother needs another operation?

Bookies threatened

to kill you? What?

Aw, come on, Eddie.

You make me sound

like some kind of sponger.

Not that I ain't grateful

for all your favors.

- Did I ever have a choice?

- Okay, okay. Here it is.

First off, I gotta

ask you a question.

- Go ahead.

- I'm tellir ya.

No sh*t now, Eddie.

Can you think of any reason

why anyone would be sniffir

around in your life...

after all these years?

I can't think of

any reason at all. Why?

Well, there's this guy

comes around the garage today...

tryir to locate

Eddie Shoebridge.

Claims he's a lawyer,

he's got good news for ya.

Wort say what,

or who he's workir for.

Calls himself McBride.

I know he's a phony

the minute I see him.

- Police?

- No way.

He's a real amateur.

I traced his license plates

with the bureau...

Doesrt even drive

his own car.

"Blanche Tyler,

- What did he look like?

He's tall, thin, about 35.

He's always got

a pipe on. Asking a lot

of smart-ass questions.

- What'd you tell him?

- Nothir. Not a goddamn thing.

I didn't have to.

He knew everything...

fake headstone

you had me put up,

how I tried to get you

officially declared dead.

The son of a b*tch says

he thinks you're still alive.

He's lookir for you,

Eddie.

And any son of a b*tch

who's lookir for you...

is lookir for me.

Well,

whatever he's up to,

he won't find me.

You worry

too much, Joseph.

Yeah, I worry too much, because

you only planned the fire,

and locked your old man

and old lady in the bedroom.

I poured the gasoline.

I lit the rags.

And I thank you.

The happiest day of

my whole, inglorious childhood.

All right,

you want to kid about it,

it's all right with me.

- I'm gonna track this guy down.

- And then what?

This.

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