No One Is Innocent

by Gayle Tiller

  It is time to get a new man

  Who is a lot younger."

  The audience roared with laughter and gave her a standing ovation.

  Patrice left the podium and sat down at the table of a man who couldn't have been more than 32 years old. Patrice had to be at least fifteen years older than him. The man was mega-fine. His skin was the color of milk chocolate and he looked better than any model. His burgundy sweater and jeans fit his muscular body perfectly. On a one to ten scale, he was a twelve.

  Patrice clasped her hands into his and beamed with a wicked smile.

  I walked over to her table. Patrice's man didn't even look in my direction.

  I said, "Patrice, that was one helluva of a poem."

  Patrice replied, "Thank you. This is Jerome. He is a special friend of mine."

  I extended my hand to Jerome. He shook my hand like I was some kind of robot. His handshake was totally devoid of any feeling.

  Patrice definitely had this man trained to belong to her. There was no way that he would leave her for anyone. She was totally in control.

  I said, "Patrice, I was wondering if I could talk to you alone for a few minutes."

  82

  "Sure, we can go outside and talk." Patrice turned to Jerome and said,

  "Baby, I'll be right back. I just need to take care of a little bit of business."

  Jerome smiled like he was some kind of trance and said, "Don't be long. 'Cause I am going to miss you. You know that I need you."

  "Baby, I know you need me. So you be good."

  He looked at her with the eyes of a puppy and said, "Yes, I will be good just for you."

  This shit between them was getting on my nerves. I wanted to say I am not interested in your sex play, but instead I said nothing.

  Patrice got up and we walked outside to the lobby. She pointed to the stairs and said, "Young lady, we can talk on the balcony, because no one is there."

  Shit, I was glad that we were going up for some air. Now I could get away from the bottle and not have to deal with it anymore. Instead, I would have deal with Patrice's shit. Which could not be any worse.

  We walked silently up the stairs. When we reached the top, Patrice said, "What did you find out?"

  "Nothing good."

  "What is it?"

  "I really can't discuss it."

  "Look, you can tell me anything. If it weren't for me, James Colby wouldn't be on the case."

  I swallowed hard and said, "Kristal was having an affair and that is not going to help her case."

  "Is that it?"

  How could this woman be so nonchalant?

  "Yeah, that's it."

  "Young lady, just because Kristal was screwing somebody other than her husband doesn't mean anything. People have affairs all the time."

  "Patrice, you don't understand. Kristal was involved in a love triangle which means she and her lover had a reason to kill off Ralph."

  "That is the kind of shit that you see in the movies. But this is real life.

  Kristal is not a killer. She just likes men and there ain't nothing wrong with that."

  "Like I said before, this doesn't help the case."

  "Screwing is not a crime. And if married men can cheat on their wives, so can women. Fuck the double standard."

  I didn't respond, because I was afraid that anything I said would piss her off.

  83

  Patrice continued, "The bottom line is that you're going to find a lot of things that are not going to help the case. But that doesn't matter. You need to stay focused and find the real killer."

  "Do you know who Bill Roberts is?"

  "Yeah, he is Chuck's father. He disappeared a long time ago. What does he have to with the case?"

  "I don’t know. Reverend Michael Baylor was given a note with his name on it from Ralph the day before he was killed."

  "That's real interesting. This case is going to be a lot nastier than I thought."

  "What do you mean by that?"

  "Nothing, you'll see."

  I wanted to question her more, but I knew that she wouldn't answer me.

  Instead I said, "If I find out anything about him or anything else, I will let you know."

  Patrice cleared her throat and said, "I'm going out of town for the next couple of months. I am touring Europe with my new book of poetry. But by the time I get back, I want to hear that Kristal is free. I won't stand for anything less."

  "How do I keep in contact with you?"

  "You will always be in contact with me. I have people who are working for me. So my presence will always be here."

  "Who are your people?"

  "Don't worry about it. They know who you are and that is all that matters. Anyway, I have got some business to attend to before I leave tonight. And it's going take the rest of the night."

  "What is it?"

  "You met him. And I can't keep him waiting too long."

  It didn't feel right that she was leaving town. Was she hiding something? But what was the point? I knew that she wouldn't tell me shit.

  Instead, I extended my hand and told her good-bye.

  Going to Berkeley had been a waste of time. Patrice still hadn't given me a goddamn piece of evidence to exonerate Kristal. And just believing in her innocence would not save her.

  There was still the Bill Roberts link to the case. And if that didn't pan out, Kristal had to be the one.

  84

  12

  Chapter

  New Chapter

  When I arrived at Martin Luther King, Jr. Library, I asked for Sheila.

  Within a couple of minutes, Sheila greeted me and took me into her office.

  She said, "How it's going?"

  "It's going okay."

  "Have you made any inroads on the case?"

  I didn't want to tell her about Kristal's affair with Chuck. Sheila loved community gossip and knowing her she might unintentionally leak this information, because she liked to talk. No, it was too dangerous to give her this information.

  "Nothing significant, yet. Do you keep a file on past mayors of San Jose."

  "Yes, we do in our archives section."

  "Who are you looking for?"

  "Bill Roberts. He was Mayor about twenty years ago."

  "Why are you looking up him?"

  I thought about telling her the truth about the clue that I obtained from Kristal's minister. Instead, I said, "Someone hired me and asked me to find him." Now, that really wasn't a lie, because I needed to find Bill Roberts for the case.

  "Find him? Why? What happened to him?"

  "He disappeared twenty years ago."

  "And someone wants to find him now? Sounds like a waste of time."

  I knew if I kept talking about Bill Roberts, I would mention Kristal's name. So I switched to another subject.

  "What do you know about James Colby?"

  "He's an excellent attorney. Hell, if I were in any trouble, I would hire him."

  "So is his wife an attorney also?"

  85

  "His wife? James is not married. His wife and his only child- his six year old daughter died in a car accident about five years ago. Why are you asking about him anyway?"

  "I was just curious."

  "Curious my ass. You like him."

  "Yeah, maybe kind of."

  "Jazz, you need to go for him. How long has been since you had some?"

  "None of your business."

  "Jazz, it's about time. If I were celibate like you, I would go crazy. I can't go a week without having my weekly fill."

  I blushed and said nothing.

  "So when are you and him going out?"

  "Going out? The man has not asked me out."

  "Ask him out to dinner. And let me know all the juicy details."

  "I am not going to ask him out. James will think I am some kind over-sexed out of control woman."

  "Men don't think that way anymore."

  "I'll just wait for him to ask me out. He just might no
t be interested in me."

  "Girl, you gonna be waiting until you're fifty years old. If you're afraid to ask him to dinner, ask him out for a cup of coffee."

  "A date for a cup of coffee. I guess I can handle that." The truth was that I had never asked any man out not even for a cup coffee. I knew I was going to have to rehearse this line a few times. And what if he said no, I would feel like a fool. But I guess coffee was innocent enough.

  "And Jazz, when do you go out, just think about all the things that you want to do to him."

  I wanted to say that I already had, but I was too embarrassed to say anything. Instead I said, "So Sheila, where do you keep that file on the mayors?"

  "It's in the reference section on the third floor. We can get it now."

  Sheila took me to the reference section and pulled out the file on San Jose mayors.

  "This file goes back to 1970. So he should be in here."

  Sheila thumbed through the file. She pulled out microfiche labeled Bill Roberts.

  "Here it is."

  "Thank you for your help."

  "Jazz, remember to ask James out for coffee."

  86

  "I won't forget. I'll do it the next time I see him."

  Sheila left me with the microfiche.

  After two hours of reviewing every single article in the microfiche, my head was throbbing.

  Bill Roberts was a former firefighter who was first elected to city council in 1974. In 1978, he ran for mayor and he won by a landslide with the support of the Firefighter's Union. He ran again in November 1982 and he barely beat his opponent by 221 votes. Apparently, a lot of firefighters were upset with him, because Bill Roberts had championed a city ordin-ance that hurt the strength of the union. Bill Roberts had stacked the Civil Service Commission with anti-union members.

  On November 11, 1982, a week after he had been reelected as mayor, Bill Roberts disappeared. There had been a full scale investigation and no one ever found anything. It had been rumored that the local firefighters' union had murdered him. The union's president along with other high ranking officials in the union had been investigated by the San Jose Police and no one was able to find anything.

  The creeks of San Jose had been searched and Bill Roberts' body was never found. It was an unsolved mystery.

  Ralph's note could have nothing to do with the former Mayor Bill Roberts. What would a disappearance twenty years ago, have do with Chief Carpenter's sudden departure? It made no sense.

  I walked outside and dialed my father's number from my cell phone.

  "Hi Jazz."

  "Dad, I was calling you to see if you know about the former Mayor Bill Roberts who disappeared twenty years ago."

  "Why are you asking about him?"

  "Because I have been hired to find him."

  "No one has seen him in twenty years. You're wasting your time."

  "Dad, I hear what you're saying. But I need to know what happened in that case."

  "Jazz, I can't really talk right now. But how about we meet in thirty minutes at my favorite place."

  "Sure, Dad. I'll see you. Bye."

  I called my office and checked my messages. To my surprise, there was a message from Chuck Roberts saying that he needed to talk to me as soon as possible.

  I quickly dialed his number and I was told that he had left for a meeting and he would not be back until tomorrow.

  I walked to my car and headed toward Evelyn's Place.

  87

  When I arrived, there were only two other patrons in the restaurant.

  Evelyn's Place was known for the best sweet potato pie in town.

  My father was already waiting for me in the lobby. The owner Evelyn Walker who was a large sized woman in her late fifties seated us. She wore her salt and pepper short hair in a natural hairstyle.

  My father said, "Evelyn, we'll have two slices of sweet potato pie heated with vanilla ice cream on the side along with your best cup of coffee in the house."

  Evelyn winked at my father and said, "The best for only the best."

  She walked back to the kitchen.

  Dad asked, "So why are you investigating the disappearance of Bill Roberts?"

  I answered, "Dad, I already told you that someone hired me to find him."

  "Who? His son Chuck? He has been looking for him for years and he never found anything."

  "No, someone else."

  "Jasmine, I am going to tell you something that you're not going to like to hear. Don't look for him. In the end, you will only get hurt."

  "Why?"

  "Jazz, you are my only child and I don't want to lose you."

  "Dad, you act like I am dealing with the Mafia."

  "Close to it."

  "What do you mean by that?"

  "You probably know that there were allegations that the Firefighters Union murdered Bill Roberts and their top ranking officials were investigated."

  "But they were cleared by the San Jose Police."

  "Do you know who the chief investigating officer was?"

  "No. But what does that have to anything?"

  "Jazz, the chief investigating officer was the President of the Police Officers Union. The word is that he was paid off by the Firefighters Union and that he even may have been involved with Bill Roberts'

  disappearance."

  "You're telling me that the President of the Police Officers Union might have killed Bill Roberts."

  "Exactly. The President of the Police Officers Union was very close to the President of the Firefighters Union. It was no secret that the Firefighters Union and the Police Officers Union were pissed off with Bill Roberts' anti-union stance. They had poured tens of thousands of dollars 88

  into first Mayoral campaign and he had screwed them over. When he was re-elected, they were livid. Then, as you know, Bill Roberts disappeared within a week of the election. I believe that he's buried six feet under someone's house."

  "Dad, if this was the case, how come this never came out?"

  "Because no one had the balls to challenge the findings. Everyone was too afraid that they might be next in line."

  "Next in line?"

  "Next in line for death."

  "Dad, did the chief investigating officer retire? Is he still alive?"

  "Jazz, he is very much alive and no he didn't retire. He is currently the Chief of the San Jose Police Department."

  "Mark Lindsey?"

  "That's him."

  "How come Chuck Roberts never found anything?"

  "Because Chuck never challenged the investigation itself. He never bothered looking at the fact of Lindsey's link to the union. Then he would have found out that his father had been killed by them."

  "Jazz, who hired you to look into Bill Roberts’ disappearance?"

  "Dad, I can't disclose that information."

  "I suggest that you refund your client's money, because this is one case that you definitely do not want to get involved with."

  89

  13

  Chapter

  New Chapter

  I had been waiting for Chuck for over two hours. He should have been in his office at 9:00 and he still had not called in. I had a bad feeling that something had happened to him.

  I asked the receptionist, "Is it normal for him to be late?"

  The receptionist who was a thin woman in her mid-fifties with bleached blond hair and faded blue eyes looked at me like I had said a swear word.

  She said, "I have worked for him for five years and he has never been late. In fact, he has only called in sick three times."

  "The times that he called in sick, when he did call?"

  "It was early in the morning around six."

  I looked at the clock in the lobby. It was 11:15. Five more minutes and I was leaving.

  I stared at the second hand of the clock and watched it move stroke by stroke. God, I was feeling sick.

  Chuck still hadn't come in. It was 11:30.

  I told the receptionist good-bye. I then jump
ed in my car and headed toward Morgan Hill where Chuck lived.

  I pulled up at Chuck's complex. It was a collection of older townhouses that were painted the color of a dull brown and an off color white. Except for a couple of small kids playing, it was almost deserted.

  I knocked on the door of Chuck's complex and waited for a response.

  To my surprise, a skinny, frizzy, red-haired teenager with braces answered the door.

  I smiled and said, "I am here to see Chuck Roberts."

  "He's not here," the girl replied.

  "Do you know where I can find him?"

  "Why? Are you his girlfriend or something?"

  "No. My name is Jasmine Myers and I am private investigator."

  "Why are you investigating my uncle?"

  90

  "Look, I am not investigating him. I just need to ask him a few questions about a note about his father."

  "I don't know where he is."

  "When is the last time you saw him?"

  "Yesterday."

  "What time yesterday?"

  "Yesterday morning."

  "He didn't come home last night?"

  "Didn't I just tell you that."

  Her rudeness was getting on my nerves. Who did this teenage twit think she was?

  I said, "Look, miss."

  "It's Shannon."

  "Shannon, I need to see your uncle as soon as possible."

  "I told you I don't know where he is."

  "Does he normally not return home at night?"

  "I don't know."

  "Why is that?"

  "'Cause I don't know."

  "You don't live here."

  "Yeah, I do sometimes."

  "Sometimes?"

  "Whenever my Mom and her boyfriend throw me out, I stay with him."

  "So the times that you do stay with him, does he normally come home at night?"

  "Yeah."

  "So it's not normal for him not to come home."

  "No."

  "Has he ever not come before when you stayed with him?"

  She looked at me and slowly answered, "No. This is the only time. I figured he spent the night at his girlfriend's house or something."

  "Does he have a girlfriend?"

  "I don't know. That's his personal business."

  "Does he have any children?"

  "No. I know he wanted some, but he never had any. He's too old to have them now. Why are you asking me all these questions?"