nothing new to me. I had tussled with almost every boss I’d ever had over the state of my employment and the disposition of my dignity.
And almost every boss I’d ever had had been a white man.
“What’s in the briefcase?”
“White papers, printed in ink and sealed with red wax.”
I turned my head to regard Saul. Beyond him, on the far wall, next to a lamp, was a small framed photograph. I couldn’t make out the details from that distance. It was the only decoration on the walls and it was in an odd place.
“Is your client the original owner of these white papers, printed in ink and sealed with red wax?”
“As far as I know my client is the owner of the briefcase in question and its contents.”
Lee was biding his time, waiting for something. In my opinion he was acting like a buffoon but those eyes made me wary.
4 9
W a lt e r M o s l e y
“What is the name of the man who stole the briefcase?”
Lee balked then. He brought his fingers together, forming a triangle.
“I’d like to know a little bit more about you before divulging that information,” he said.
I sat back and turned my palms upward. “Shoot.”
“Where are you from?”
“A deep dark humanity down in Louisiana, a place where we never knew there was a depression because we never had the jobs to lose.”
“Education?”
“I read Mann’s
That got a smile.
“H. G. Wells?”
“Ellison,” I countered.
“You fought in the war?”
“On both fronts.”
Lee frowned and cocked his head. “The European and Japanese theaters?” he asked.
I shook my head and smiled.
“White people took their shots at me,” I said. “Most of them were German but there was an American or two in the mix.”
“Married?”
“No,” I said with maybe a little too much emphasis.
“I see. Are you a licensed PI, Mr. Rawlins?”
“Yes sir, I am.”
Holding out a child’s hand, he asked, “May I see it?”
“Don’t have it with me,” I said. “It’s in a frame on the wall in my office.”
5 0
C i n n a m o n K i s s
Lee nodded, stopped to consider, and then nodded again —
listening to an unseen angel on his right shoulder. Then he rose, barely taller standing than he was seated.
“Good day,” he said, making a paltry attempt at a bow.
Now I understood. From the moment I flushed him out of hiding he intended to dismiss my services. What I couldn’t understand was why he didn’t let me leave when I wanted to the first time.
“Fine with me.” I stood up too.
“Mr. Lee,” Maya said then. She also rose from her chair.
“Please, sir.”
“He’s unlicensed,” Lee said, making a gesture like he was tossing something into the trash.
“He’s fully licensed,” she said. “I spoke with Mayor Yorty himself this morning. He told me that Mr. Rawlins has the complete support of the LAPD.”
I sat down.
There was too much information to sift through on my feet.
