Michael Lister - Soldier 03 - The Big Hello

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Michael Lister - Soldier 03 - The Big Hello Page 6

by Michael Lister

“Guy takes the time to straighten up any sign of struggle but leaves the radio on?”

  “Maybe,” I said. “Car in the drive, radio on. Nobody knows she’s not home.”

  “Why not leave a light on then?”

  “He could’ve snatched her during the day,” I said. “She had just come in, clicks on the radio, sits down to go through the mail, and he grabs her. Or he did leave a light on and it burned out.”

  Clip appeared in the back doorway.

  “Hate to interrupt all the detecting you all doing,” he said, “but we got company.”

  Chapter 14

  “Spotted ’im when I first come up,” Clip said. “Waited to see what he gonna do.”

  We were standing in the tiny kitchen at the very back of the house, looking out the window into the dark yard.

  “And?” Shelby said.

  “He not doin’ nothin’. Just hiding in the bushes watching.”

  “Do you see him?” Shelby asked me.

  I shook my head.

  “He there,” Clip said.

  I nodded.

  “Whatcha wanna do?” Clip asked me.

  “Let’s have a little chat with him.”

  “I can go out the front door and around the side and come up behind him,” Clip said.

  I nodded again. “Thanks.”

  “Give me two minutes then come out the back,” he said. “Case he run back this way.”

  We did.

  While we waited, Shelby said, “Anything bother you about all this?”

  “Lots.”

  “I mean about the dame. Her place. Her car.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “How’s she pay for it all on a nurse’s salary?”

  He nodded. “No way she does. It been two minutes.”

  I nodded. “Let’s go.”

  Shelby went first. As he opened the door, Clip was yelling.

  We ran out, across a short concrete slab patio, and down some stone steps into the backyard.

  Some of the steps were unstable, giving, shifting, rocking as our feet came down on them.

  “RUNNIN’,” Clip was yelling. “HE ON THE MOVE. WATCH OUT FOR THE––”

  Before he could get out the last word, the ground fell out from beneath us and we were rolling down a steep incline, losing our hats along the way.

  When we finally came to a stop at the bottom, and my eyes had adjusted, I could see that the house was built on a hill. The drop-off, which began just ten feet from the back wall of the house, sloped sharply down some thirty feet, a stone step staircase hollowed out in the middle of it.

  “You okay?” I asked Shelby.

  No response.

  I pushed up on my knees as best I could. It was always difficult to balance with one arm. Scrambling over to Shelby, I could see that he was not moving.

  I withdrew my lighter, snapped it open, and popped it on. There was blood just above his brow, and a rising lump. He had hit his head on one of the stone steps as we tumbled down and had been knocked unconscious.

  “HERE HE COME,” Clip yelled down from somewhere on top of the hill.

  I looked up in time to see the man no doubt looking like I had just a few moments before. He was short and round, which seemed to help him roll better.

  I stood and withdrew my weapon and when he finally came to rest at the base of the hill, I was standing over him, gun drawn, looking down the barrel of it at him.

  Looking up at me, he raised his hands.

  “Take it easy there, pal,” he said. “Don’t shoot.”

  He had very short arms and legs and a large, oblong torso––like an egg with limbs.

  A moment later Clip made it down and lifted the little man to his feet.

  “What happened to him?” the man asked, nodding at Shelby, who was moaning and beginning to stir a little.

  “Hit his head,” I said. “He’ll be fine.”

  “How ’bout we aks the questions?” Clip said. “The hell you doin’ here?”

  “Nothing.”

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Daniel Armando,” he said.

  “What’re you doing here, Danny?”

  “Daniel,” he said. “Nothing. Just hanging out.”

  “Oh yeah?” Clip said. “So why’d you run?”

  “Someone was chasing me,” he said.

  “What the hell happened?” Shelby said. “Help me up.”

  I reached down and helped him up while telling him what had happened, Clip continuing to hold Armando.

  After Shelby was standing, I kept my hand on him for another moment. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m all right, fella. Thanks. World’s just spinning a little fast for me. I’ll get used to it.”

  In another moment, Shelby turned his attention to Armando.

  “What’s his story?”

  “He was just hanging out,” I said. “Only ran ’cause he was being chased.”

  “I’m being serious, fellas,” Armando said. “People are disappearing and dying. There’s three of y’all and y’all look like the kind of cats who make people disappear or dead. ’Specially the colored one. He looks like he’d just as soon shoot me as anything else.”

  “You not wrong,” Clip said.

  Shelby flashed his badge. “Let’s have the truth,” he said. “Give it a me good and maybe I won’t blame you for the bump on my head.”

  “Y’all are cops?” Armando said.

  “The hell you call me?” Clip said, bowing up and stepping toward him.

  “Didn’t mean you.”

  “Story, pal,” Shelby said. “And fast.”

  “I’m private,” he said. “On the job. Looking for the girl that lives here. Watching the house when you three showed up and started chasing me.”

  “You been watching the house and you didn’t know the hill was here?” I asked.

  “No, I knew,” he said. “I didn’t fall. The nigger pushed me.”

  I looked at Clip.

  “The nigger did indeed,” he said, his smile lighting up the night.

  “My license is in my coat pocket,” Armando said. “I’ve got a rod in a holster on my right hip.”

  “No you don’t,” Clip said. “Haven’t for some time now. The nigger lifted it just ’fore he humpty-dumptied your eggheaded ass down the hill.”

  Clip was right. He was eggheaded. I hadn’t really noticed. It was as if his head were a small egg balanced atop the larger egg of his body.

  He reached down and felt his empty holster, then nodded in appreciation.

  Shelby reached into his coat pocket and withdrew his license.

  “See?” Armando said. “And I’ve got a friend or two on the force. You can call ’em.”

  “I can?” Shelby said. “Gee thanks, fella. You’re a swell guy, all generous and what not.”

  He studied the license a little longer.

  “Well?” I asked.

  “License is legit,” he said.

  He looked back at Armando. “Who’re your friends on the force?”

  “Harold Patterson and Don April.”

  “What’s Don’s wife’s name?”

  “He doesn’t have one, but Harold does. Her name is Pat. Pat Patterson. She hates it, but she loves Harold so much she really don’t mind.”

  Shelby nodded at me and returned the license to Armando.

  “So,” I said, “who’re you looking for?”

  “Dame that lives in the house up there,” he said. “Doris Perkins.”

  “Who hired you to find her?”

  “Can’t tell you that, cat,” he said. “Sorry.”

  Shelby said, “Well, as long as you’re sorry. We understand.”

  He then slapped the man across the face hard and openhanded, and the report was loud in the stillness and darkness.

  “What the hell––”

  “Listen to me you fat little fuck,” Shelby said. “I’m in no mood. You answer our goddamn questions and you answer them the moment we ask them or I will fu
ck you up but good then arrest you for making me do it. Understand?”

  He stopped rubbing his cheek long enough to nod.

  “Who hired you?” Shelby asked.

  “Girl’s brother. Black market kingpin named Lee Perkins. She doesn’t have anything to do with him, but she’ll take some of his ill-gotten gains.”

  “Evidently so will you,” Shelby said.

  Armando laughed. “Guess so. Anyway, he thinks he’s big and bad enough that nobody should mess with his little sister. But he can’t be totally sure she didn’t just disappear to get away from him.”

  Shelby looked at me. “I’ve heard of this guy. Runs the black market in this region. Makes money on the war. Shortages. Rations. There’s nothing not available for the right price.”

  “Maybe I should talk to him ’bout gettin’ my eye back,” Clip said.

  Chapter 15

  “What if she did just walk away?” I asked.

  We were back in the house, having gathered our hats from the side of the hill, cleaning up and using the phone.

  All four of us were in the small kitchen. Shelby had his head under the tap, letting the water run over the spot where the rock got him. Clip still stood close to Daniel Armando, but wasn’t touching him any longer. I was leaning on one side of the doorway, the tumble down the hill having done the wound in my abdomen no good at all.

  “Huh?” Shelby said from beneath the tap.

  “What if she did just walk away?” I said again. “What if she’s just hiding from her brother. Or what if her disappearance has something to do with him? What if it has nothing to do with Lauren?”

  “Be hell of a coincidence,” Clip said.

  I nodded.

  “Yeah,” Shelby said. “The timing would be––.”

  “Lauren doesn’t have time for me to make a wrong decision,” I said, my stress-constricted words coming out strained and too fast. “I can’t go very far down a wrong path without it costing her her life. Am thinking maybe we should just follow up on the army nurse instead.”

  I could feel the panic creeping back in, fear gripping my heart, constricting my viscera, affecting my ability to move, make a decision, think, act.

  I can’t kill her again. I can’t.

  “And you go up against a guy like Perkins,” Armando said, “you better be sure. Why risk getting killed if you have other lines of inquiry to follow up on?”

  Clip laughed. “Lines of inquiry,” he repeated, shaking his head.

  Shelby finished rinsing his head and dried it on a dishtowel on the tile countertop next to the sink. He turned toward me, still toweling his hair.

  “It’s your call,” he said. “I’ll go with whatever you decide.”

  I looked over at Clip, imploring him to tell me what to do, to help me make a decision Lauren could live with.

  Our eyes locked, his one eye narrowing, his gaze intensifying, holding. Lowering his head slightly and raising his eyebrows, he was able to communicate both concern and a settling support.

  “Nothin’ to decide ’til we know where nurse whatshername is––or even might be.”

  “Powell,” I said, nodding. “Valerie Powell.”

  “Let him call in,” he said. “See if the lead played out. Gots no decision ’til then.”

  I nodded. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll make the call,” Shelby said.

  While he did, Clip and I took turns cleaning up under and drinking from the tap, alternating watching Armando.

  “Say, can I get my gat back?” Armando asked me.

  “I don’t have it,” I said. “Why you asking me?”

  “He think you my massa,” Clip said.

  “Look pal, I didn’t mean no offense. I just thought the soldier was in charge. My mistake.”

  Clip unloaded the revolver, pocketed the rounds, and handed Armando the weapon.

  “It’s not so good without those,” he said, nodding toward Clip’s pocket.

  “Just stay close to us,” Clip said. “We protect you.”

  Armando started to say something but Clip cut him off.

  “Mean, if’n he say I can,” he said, nodding toward me.

  “Cute,” he said. “Protection and entertainment. What’s next? You gonna feed me too?”

  Shelby returned to the room and shrugged.

  “Not sure,” he said. “She may be at this little frolic pad down off Gains, but … I don’t know … Picture I’m gettin’ of her … she seems too hinky for it.”

  I nodded.

  “Your call,” he said.

  “See?” Armando said to Clip. “He’s in charge. Give me my bullets back.”

  “I’m gonna check in with Henry Folsom while we’re at a phone,” I said. “Then I’ll decide what to do next.”

  ***

  “We may be gettin’ close, Jimmy,” Henry Folsom said.

  “To Lauren?”

  “Had a car turn around before one of our roadblocks,” he said. “One of the descriptions sounded like De Grasse. He got away, but I’ve got patrol cars searching the area where he was last seen. I really think it’s him.”

  I thought about it.

  I felt funny calling long distance on Doris Perkins’s phone, but had to reach Folsom while I had the chance. I guess I could’ve reversed the charges, but it hadn’t occurred to me until this moment.

  “You still there?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Just thinking about De Grasse. They know to take him alive, right?”

  “Strict orders from me,” he said. “You and I are going to be able to have a nice little conversation with him. I guarantee it.”

  My heart grew heavier, its thudding beats seeming to come from within my stomach now.

  I was okay about things until he guaranteed it.

  “How are things going over there?” he asked.

  I told him.

  “Sounds promising,” he said when I finished. “Just watch yourself with Lee Perkins. He’s a truly dangerous man. Make sure Clip and Dana know too and y’all look out for each other. Be very vigilant.”

  “Will do.”

  “I think finding Valerie Powell or whatever her name is is key. I hope the lead pans out. I’m still trying to dig up info on her from here. Let me know what happens.”

  I started to say something, but he continued.

  “And Jimmy, we will find her. Lauren I mean. I won’t stop until I do.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m …” he began, and then stopped. “I just want you to know that everything’s going to be okay. I’m gonna make sure of it.”

  I thought about what he might be trying to say.

  “Okay,” I said.

  “I just want you to know that this isn’t all on you alone,” he said. “I’m … I won’t stop. No matter what.”

  “You trying to say that if something happens to me you’ll carry on the search and won’t stop until you find her, and will take care of her after you do?”

  “Well, yes. I guess I am.”

  “Never thought anything but,” I said. “Thank you.”

  “That, and …”

  I waited a long time.

  Finally, he said, “Sorry. Losing Gladys has me messed up. I … I just … Just promise me you’ll be careful. People like Perkins … Just take good care of yourself, son. ”

  ***

  “What’s the plan, boss man?” Shelby asked when I walked into the small living room where they were sitting.

  “Daniel here will introduce me and Clip to Lee Perkins while you chase down the lead on Valerie Powell. That way you don’t scare Perkins off by throwing cops at him and we don’t miss the angel of death if she’s really there.”

  “Sounds good,” Shelby said.

  “Yeah,” Armando said, “all but the part about me introducing you to Mr. Perkins. That ain’t gonna happen.”

  Clip let out a low, mean, humorless laugh. “Oh it gonna happen. You can bet money your ass can’t afford to lose on it. It that sure a thang.�


  Chapter 16

  Lee Perkins lived in one of the one hundred fifty rooms in the Floridan Hotel on the corner of Monroe and Call across from St. John’s Episcopal Church. He was a small man with dark, dead eyes, a dry wit, and deliberate manner.

  Since the Floridan, which proclaimed itself as “North Florida’s most successful hotel,” was “whites only,” Clip and I couldn’t stay here, but because of Perkins’s pull, we were allowed to meet him in the empty Cypress Lounge, where at other times politicians met to discuss legislation.

  “I should have you bumped off just for disturbing my beauty sleep,” he said.

  It wasn’t late. Not quite ten o’clock yet. And it was funny to think of a gangster who ruled the black market underworld going to bed early.

  He was in silk pajamas, house slippers, and a robe, the belt cinched tight around his narrow midsection.

  “And you,” he said to Armando. “Suppose you tell me what I should do with you?”

  His voice was low and flat, monotone and menacing.

  “Mr. Perkins, they gave me no choice.”

  “Little man, you always have a choice. Always.”

  Perkins was the only man I’d seen in a while who was actually smaller than Armando, and it was funny to hear him call him little man.

  “They’re looking for your sister too,” he said. “They broke into her house. I knew you’d know what to do.”

  “You take chances, don’t you?” he said.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Perkins,” he said. “Honest I am.”

  It was an act, but Perkins didn’t seem to know it. Maybe this was the only side of Armando he’d ever seen.

  “Skip it.”

  “I really am sorry, Mr. Perkins. It won’t happen again.”

  “I said forget it.”

  “Okay sir. Thank you, sir.”

  Perkins looked at me. It was like looking into a dead man’s eyes. They were flat, opaque, lifeless, dim windows to nothing, no soul, nothing human.

  “You’re looking for my sister,” he said. “Wanna tell me why?”

  I did.

  “You think her disappearance is connected to this Lewis dame who may have died or disappeared herself?”

 

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