“What’s that?”
“If this armed robber was after Mr. Sweet’s money, then why would he start taking potshots at you in the street?”
The policeman, I don’t remember his name, had a porcine face marked by small ears and tiny, suspicious eyes. When he squinted at me, I got so nervous that my lie reflex froze up.
“I pointed at him, officer,” Fearless said. “That must be why he shot at us. Because he knew that he just did somethin’ wrong and there I was pointin’ at him.”
“Did you know him?” the detective asked.
“No sir.”
“I don’t get it. Why would you point out a stranger just walking down the street?”
“Because he was white,” Fearless said. “I don’t see too many white men takin’ a stroll down by Milo’s.”
The detective was still suspicious, but he let it slide.
Loretta Kuroko came in at nine. She wore a light emerald green blouse and a darker skirt of the same color. She had been with Milo through all of his different professions and so knew how to keep quiet.
When the detective left, Milo sent Loretta home, telling her not to come back until he had worked out a few “details.” Then Fearless and I followed his burgundy ’48 Cadillac to his apartment on Grand.
***
MILO’S PLACE WAS A STUDIO designed on the same principle as his office. It was dominated by a big oak desk, which was surrounded by oak filing cabinets. The sofa against a far wall might have opened out into a bed. Next to that was a small walnut cabinet that opened up into a bar.
“How do you cook?” Fearless asked.
“Cook? A man cain’t cook. I go down on Century when I need a meal, Johnny’s Restaurant Grill. I pay ’em twenty dollars a week and they always have something for me—breakfast, lunch, or dinner.”
“What if you wake up in the middle’a the night and want a sandwich?”
“I close my eyes and go back to sleep.”
“Milo,” I said. “Why’d you hire that man Timmerman to look for Kit?”
“I already told you,” he replied. “Because Miss Fine wanted to talk to him.”
“That’s a lie, man. You said you put Timmerman mostly on white cases.”
Milo hesitated a moment before saying, “I usually do use him for whites, but he could find a black man too.”
“Come on, Milo,” Fearless said. “Don’t be lyin’ an’ that man out there ready to kill you. How come you used him and not a colored man?”
“You’re a tough man, Fearless. I know that. But I also know you ain’t gonna do nuthin’ if I don’t wanna talk.”
“That’s true,” Fearless said. “But you better believe that I won’t show up if you call on me neither. If that man Timmerman is after you, he know where you live. He might already have found out you lied and be on his way here right now.”
Milo’s eyes moved to his front door.
He shifted in his chair and then clasped his hands together. He pressed his thumbs on the bones just above his eyes and muttered something that might have been a prayer.
“I said I wouldn’t tell anybody,” he said at last. “You know I like to keep my word.”
“Dead man keep a secret like motherfucker,” I said.
Milo nodded.
“Miss Fine told me that BB and Kit were messed up in somethin’ that could prove harmful to the family name. They stole something from her and she was very upset about it. I made a few calls around and found out that Kit had been seen in the company of a white man name of Lance Wexler. Once I knew that, I called Theodore, because he could cross the color line with no problem. If anybody could find them men it was him.”
“And what was that something Miss Fine was talking about?” I asked.
“She didn’t say. All she let on was that it was very important to her and that she would be very grateful if I put her in contact with either Kit or BB or both.”
“And what about Wexler?” I asked.
“She didn’t say anything about him,” Milo said. “I just saw him as some kinda background information.”
“Did you ever find out who he was?”
“No. I told Miss Fine about him, but she didn’t seem to care. But the way I figured it was, if he did turn out to be important Timmerman was my man.”
“And just what was it that you were supposed to do, Mr. Sweet?” I used the proper address because I knew that was the way that Fearless liked to comport himself, with respect.
“She wanted me to find them and give her the information I gathered.”
“What information?”
“Where they lived, their phone numbers if I could get ’em, and their situation. You know, did they live with anybody, if they had a house or an apartment, like that.”
