A new song had come on the station. April was singing it and strumming an imaginary guitar. “ ‘Sunshine go away today. Don’t feel much like daaancin.’ ”
“Say,” said Fanella.
“What?” said April.
“You ever hear of a guy name of Red Jones? Black guy.” He was normally careful, didn’t run his mouth to whores, but the words were coming fast from his mouth. “I figure, you bein on the street and all…”
“Sure,” said April, swaying to the music. She removed her bra and dropped it on the floor. “Everybody’s heard of Red.”
April pushed her breasts together and winked clumsily at Fanella. Walking toward him in her bare feet, she caught a toe on the carpet, stumbled, and giggled. She leaned in to kiss him, and Fanella put a dry one on her cheek. He wasn’t about to kiss her on the mouth.
“You don’t know where I can find this Red, do you?” said Fanella.
“Why?”
“I owe him some money.”
“I don’t have any idea,” said April. “But if you give me the money, I’ll make sure he gets it.”
“You’re cute,” said Fanella.
April reached out and grabbed his rod through the crotch of his slacks. There was little physical response, and she stepped back and examined his face.
“You all right, good lookin?”
Bullets of sweat had formed on Fanella’s forehead, and he’d gone pale. “I don’t feel so hot.”
“You gotta go to the toilet, right? Number two?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s the baby laxative in the coke,” said April. “Go do your business and feel better, sugar. I’ll be waiting for you when you’re done.”
Fanella crushed out his cigarette, went into the bathroom, and shut the door. She heard air leave his behind, and she heard him say, “Ahhhh,” and then groan, “God.”
April moved over to the open suitcase and hand-searched it thoroughly. She found a switchblade knife and a revolver underneath some sport shirts. The guy was some kind of hood, so that wasn’t a surprise. Two packs of cigarettes in one of the side pockets. And in another compartment, a pretty ring. She put it on her finger and it fit. Probably costume, but that didn’t bother her. She loved the way the ring looked on her hand. It was a keeper. He sure wasn’t gonna miss it. Leastways not tonight.
April slipped the ring into her shorts pocket, then stripped the shorts off and placed them on the bed under her favorite T-shirt, the one had the glitter star across the front. She stood in the middle of the room in her panties, drinking wine and waiting. Her plan was to get the old man off quick, soon as he came out the head. She knew how, and he would only be good for one. After, she’d wait for Cindy, take a taxi back to Shaw, and get out there and retail her ass like her boyfriend, Romario, expected her to do. There was still plenty of night left.
Having come up empty on Red Jones at the Carter Barron, Vaughn went back to the stationhouse and saw Charles Davis seated at his desk.
“What are you doin here, Charles? I thought you had eyes on Monique Lattimer.”
ter Ba'3'›“I did. I was in the playground across from her house for hours. Girl musta slipped out the back of her crib, somethin. I had a patrol cop knock on her door, but there wasn’t no one there.” Davis shrugged his bearlike shoulders. “Sorry, Hound Dog. She beat me, man.”
Muttering under his breath, Vaughn went to the holding cells to take the temperature of Clarence Bowman. He was hoping to put him in the box and see if he could convince him to talk. But Bowman was gone.
Vaughn found Sergeant Bill Herbst out in the office area.
“What the hell happened, Billy?”
“I had to wagon Bowman over to St. Elizabeth’s. The guy was eating his own shit, Frank. The rest of ’em were goin nuts back there.”
“Bowman’s not mental.”
“Maybe not. But I didn’t know
“I’m not worried about that. I wanted another shot at him, is all.” Vaughn rubbed his jaw as he considered the situation. “Let’s go back to the jail. I wanna see where you had him.”
Vaughn returned to the holding cells with Herbst, who pointed out Bowman’s former cage. Vaughn studied the men who had been locked in with him.
They walked back to the office and Vaughn said to Herbst, “Who was the weak tit with the Little Bo-Peep eyes?”
“Henry Arrington.”
“Doper?”
“No, Henry takes the Night Train. We bring him in to protect him and let him out in the morning.”
“Have someone call me before he gets tossed. All right?”
“Sure thing, Frank.”
Vaughn had marked Arrington as prey as soon as he laid eyes on him. He was pretty certain that Bowman had done the same thing.
Strange knocked on Carmen’s door, a narrow row home off Barry Place that had been cut into two apartments. Hers was on the ground floor.
The house was a wood-shingled affair, fronted by a small stoop more common to Baltimore than D.C.
A cone of yellow light hit the stoop. Carmen opened the door but did not come through the frame. She was still in her dress. A bit of mascara had run down her face.
Strange began to go up the steps. She held up her palm and said, “No.”
“Look, I apologize.”
“For what?”
“Leaving you like tingiv›
“They had plenty of taxicabs in the lot.”
“Bet you had an easier time than I did,” said Strange, trying out a smile. He told her about his pursuit of Jones, leaving out the high-speed chase and the chances he took. Said he got pulled over for “barely” running a red and that Lydell had to come to the scene and convince the young police officer not to arrest him.
“You made a mistake,” she said.
“Yes,” said Strange, knowing they had moved on to something else. He could control some of the damage right now by admitting to his indiscretion. But all he did was lower his eyes.
“Look at me, Derek.” He raised his head. Carmen had folded her arms across her chest, and her jaw was set. “You got the smell of a woman on you. Don’t you know by now that you can’t get that off you? And you have that young-boy’s face you get when you know you been wrong.”
Strange said nothing.
“Why’d you do it?” said Carmen. “Am I not giving you something you need?”
Strange spread his hands. “Look, I didn’t… I’m sayin, it didn’t go to where you think it did.”
“You mean you didn’t fuck her. And I’m supposed to, what, give you credit for that?”
“I’m sorry,” said Strange.
“Too many times, Derek.”
“Let me come in out this night and talk to you.”
“You gonna tell me you learned, right?”
“Please.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said, and stepped back into her apartment. The door closed and the light went off. Strange stood in the darkened street.
A half hour later, Strange was in his apartment, sitting in his living room with no lights on, drinking scotch on
