than the flames.
“I wanted to go through the door, my mother and two sisters were in there, but there was no way I could. I swear, there was no way. By then my room was on fire; there were flames everywhere. So all I could do was jump out the window, and hope they had made it out okay.
“They didn’t.”
He says all this without much apparent emotion, almost as if he’s reading the words from a script. Some self- preservation instinct has enabled him to deal with this and continue to function in society.
“We’re so very sorry,” Laurie says, and I echo those sentiments. It’s almost impossible to imagine what this young man has been through.
“Did you know a lot of people in that building?” I ask.
“No… not too many. A lot of people would move in and out, and then there were some people my mother warned my sisters and me to stay away from.”
“Who were they?” Laurie asks.
“There were two apartments on the first floor; my mother said they were drug dealers.”
“Do you think they were the targets of the fire?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I guess. No way for me to really know.”
“Who did you know?”
“There was a kid my age on the second floor… I forget his name-maybe William something. I was in his apartment a few times. I met his mother, but I don’t think he had a father, at least not one that lived there.”
“Anyone else?”
“Not really. I met the lady who lived across the hall a couple of times. You know, just to say hello in the hallway. She only lived there about a year. Once she had the baby, I didn’t see that much of her. But people came to see her, sometimes they were dressed in suits.”
“Do you know her name, or what the people wanted?” I ask.
“No. And then there was a lady on the second floor, Charisse. My mother warned me about her too. I didn’t know why at the time, but now that I know more…” He looks at Laurie, as if trying to decide to continue. “I think she was probably a hooker, you know? Maybe the lady across the hall was as well.”
“Is there anything you can think of, anything at all, that would lead you to believe that someone in the apartment building had terrible enemies who might have done this?”
“No. I’m sorry, but no.”
“Where did you go after the fire, Tony?” Laurie asks.
“Well, I was in the hospital for a while, maybe a month, and then I went to live with my aunt.”
“Are you still with her?”
“I’m in her apartment. She died a couple of months ago.”
“I’m sorry.” Laurie and I both say it simultaneously. We could say we’re sorry to Tony for the next ten years, and it wouldn’t cover it. Nor would it help him any.
“Andy, make a right into that 7-Eleven.”
“Why? What do you need?” I ask, but Laurie doesn’t answer. She seems to be focused on something in the mirror.
“Laurie?”
She still doesn’t answer, at least not right away, and I pull into the strip mall parking lot and turn off the car.
“Go in and buy something. Take your time about it.”
“What am I supposed to buy?” I ask, more confused than normal.
“Doesn’t matter. I think we’re being followed, and I want to make sure.”
I get out of the car and go into the store, and I notice that Laurie is starting to make a call on her cell phone. Once inside, I start to wander the aisles, pretending to be looking for something. Since there are only two aisles, and since I’m the only person in the store, the cashier starts to look at me a little strangely.
“Can I help you?” she asks.
I give her my most charming smile, for which there is no known defense. “Just browsing; everything looks so good.” The fact that I’m standing in front of laundry detergent and bleach may be one reason why she doesn’t return the smile or seem at all captivated. Instead, she stays silent and keeps watching me.
I look through the window and see that Laurie is off the phone. She and I make eye contact, and she shakes her head slightly, telling me she’s not ready for me to come back to the car.
I’m not feeling too significant to this process, but there’s really nothing I can do about it right now. I take a bottle of bleach and a loaf of whole wheat bread, and bring it to the cashier. “How’s it going?” I ask, pulling out all the conversational stops.
“That it?” is her response, referring to the two items I’m getting.
“You know something, give me a minute. I should get some sodas… to wash down the bread.” I leave my items there and head back to the refrigerator case filled with drinks. I pretend to agonize over them, but don’t take any because Laurie finally nods to me that it’s okay for me to come out. I go back to the cashier, pay for the original items, and leave.
When I get back in the car, Laurie says, “What did you get?”
“Bread and a bottle of bleach. You mind telling me what’s going on?”
“There’s somebody following us; the car is parked diagonally across the street… don’t look in that direction. I think it’s just one male in the car, but I can’t be positive.”
“Are you sure about this?” I ask.
“Andy…” is how she admonishes me. She has spent most of her life as a police officer; this is her area of expertise.
“Okay, I believe you. What are we going to do about it?”
“It’s already done. Marcus just got here; he’s going to follow the guy following us. And then he’ll learn whatever there is to learn.”
“How?”
“By being Marcus,” she says.
“So I should just drive home?”
“Yes. Normal speed. Don’t look in the rearview mirror any more than you normally would.”
“It’s under control,” I say. “You can count on me.”
“We really didn’t need any more bleach.”
“I was under a lot of pressure.”
It takes us another fifteen minutes to get home, during which time I don’t see any sign of the car following us or Marcus. Neither Laurie nor I can think of any reason why we’d be under surveillance by anyone.
“But it’s got to be related to the Galloway case,” I say. “That’s the advantage of having only one client; it’s easy to narrow these things down.”
Once we get into the house, Laurie peeks through the window to see if our stalker is on the street, but if he is, he’s nowhere to be found.
Now all that there is left to do is wait for Marcus to call. I’m anxious for him to do so, but not so anxious that I’m going to answer the phone when it rings. One thing I don’t need now is a conversation with Marcus, during which he utters undecipherable one-word grunts.
I’ll leave that to Laurie.
Loney got lucky.
He was uncharacteristically late in arriving at the motel for the meeting with Camby, and therefore was able to see Carpenter’s investigator enter the room. The guy didn’t knock, or pick the lock; he just lowered his shoulder and almost casually forced the door open. As someone who had bashed in a few doors himself, Loney was impressed.
But more than lucky, Loney was smart. He was smart enough to have researched Carpenter and his team thoroughly, and he knew all about Marcus Clark. And one thing he knew for sure; Ray Camby was not going to stand up to him.
Recruiting Camby was a mistake; Loney had felt that from the moment he met him. But Camby had been recommended, and he did have some virtues. He would do what he was told, he had no hesitancy whatsoever to
