even heard of it, but I got this friend Diego, a movie freak, told me about it. It’s not on DVD, so when it got scheduled during a school day, I knew I had to find a way to watch it.”
“Go on.”
“Way my mom’s got our house set up, when you’re watching television, you’re kind of sittin by the front porch window, so naturally you look out onto Twelfth Street from time to time. I heard a truck come down the street and stop. It was the FedEx man. He got a big package out the truck and carried it up the steps of Miss Lisa’s house and left it on her porch. She works during the day, too.”
“Lisa Weitzman, your next-door neighbor.”
“Yeah. So right after the FedEx man leaves, a black Impala SS shows up and this young dude gets out the car. It was the old-style SS, not that crud joint they got now.”
“How soon after?”
“Like, five minutes.”
“What’d the guy look like?”
“He had braids. That’s all I remember ’bout him, really.”
“Anyone else in the car with him?”
“There was someone in the passenger side, but he never did get out.”
“Okay.”
“So this dude with the braids comes up on Miss Lisa’s porch real quick and picks up that box. Must have been kinda heavy, ’cause he struggled with it some.”
Lucas’s blood was getting up. Tavon and Edwin had been lying to him. The package wasn’t stolen. He took a long drink of water and set the bottle back on the table.
“What happened next? The guy put the package in the car and drove away?”
“No,” said Ernest. He said nothing else and sat back in his chair.
Lucas stared at Ernest Lindsay. “You didn’t tell Lisa Weitzman that a package had been taken off her property. I know that she’s been a friend to you. Why wouldn’t you let her know?”
“I like Miss Lisa. She’s cool people.”
“Come on, Ernest, help me out here. What is this?”
“I don’t know for sure if I can trust you. You stand up in our class and talk about doin what’s right, and it moved me to reach out to you, but I just don’t know.”
“What’s holding you back?”
“It’s not just me. I got my mother to think of.”
“What are you afraid of? Do you want to bring the police into this?”
“No.”
“Do you need protection?”
“No.”
“What, then?”
“Police are already in it. They part of it, man.”
Lucas nodded slowly. “Tell me about it.”
Ernest exhaled, the air leaving him like he was pushing something away. “When that boy went down Miss Lisa’s steps with that box in his hand, a police car turned onto Twelfth and stopped behind the Impala. By then I was standing up in my mom’s living room, looking out the window, looking down on the street.”
“What happened next?”
“Police officer gets out the squad car and opens up its trunk. Says somethin, just a couple of words to the dude with the braids, and then that dude puts the package in the police officer’s trunk. Police officer gets in his car and drives away. Dude with the braids drives off, too. It happened fast, like, bang. You know?”
“Was the officer riding alone?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of car?”
“You know, a patrol car. Fourth District car.”
“And this cop was in uniform,” said Lucas.
“Yeah, but not a regular one, though. He had on a blue shirt, said ‘Police’ in big letters across his back.”
“What did he look like?”
“He was kinda skinny, had a long nose, like a beak almost. Hair was cut close, like a reddish color. Dude looked like a big old rooster.”
“Black or white?”
“If he was white I would have said so.”
“Right,” said Lucas. “What else?”
“I think this man saw me.”
“You think.”
“Before he left outta there, he looked up toward my house. I don’t know, maybe he had one of those feelings you get, like someone’s watching you. When he did, I stepped back, away from the window.”
“So you don’t know for sure.”
“The other day, when you were parked on this street, the first time you called out to me?”
“I remember.”
“He was parked over there on Clifton, in front of my school. I felt like he was waiting for me, man.”
That’s why Ernest had been so uptight that day, thought Lucas. It was the same 4D patrol car, the same officer who had come down the street earlier, driven slowly by Lucas’s Jeep, and checked him out. Now Lucas knew why the sight of the car had felt strange to him. The Fourth District’s southernmost boundary ended at Harvard Street, several blocks north of 12th and Clifton, which was 3D territory. So this car was out of its district. The officer knew who Ernest was and where he lived. He also knew Lucas’s vehicle by sight and maybe had its plates; he’d seen Lucas get out of it and try to talk to Ernest.
“What’s wrong?” said Ernest.
“I’m thinking,” said Lucas.
“Should I be worried?”
“No. You’ve told me everything you know, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You did right by talking to me. But you’re out of it now.”
“What’s your connect?”
“I was hired to get that package back.”
“Yeah? What was in it?”
“It’s better that you don’t know.”
“You sayin this shit is dangerous.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to you, Ernest.”
“I can’t lie. I’m scared.”
“Don’t be,” said Lucas. “You’ll be fine.”
HE WAS riding his bike out along Sligo Creek, away from the city, heading into the woods of Wheaton Regional Park property later that day, when it came to him. He kept pedaling and pushing it, and when he hit the park itself he found a shaded shelter that was cool and unoccupied. He removed his gloves and helmet, then sat on a picnic bench, took a long drink from his insulated water bottle, and wiped the drip off his chin.
He stared out into the trees.
The numbers of an MPD squad car, called the CAD, were printed on its right rear bumper and front quarter panels. The sequence started with the police district’s number. So a car from the Fourth District would display a CAD identification that began with the number 4.
The number that Tavon Lynch had sent him through the phone was not an address. Tavon had texted Lucas the number of the squad car driven by the police officer who he was in with or was shaking him down. Sitting on Hayes Street that night, he must have had the feeling that something was terribly wrong.
Car 4044.
Lucas’s grin was feral and tight.
