by Jerry Brown
His driving force was not blind ambition, political or otherwise. His life had been too easy for that. Neither was he really interested in fame, or moved by any compulsion to control or impose drastic change on the community. A very direct and elementary form of vanity motivated him. He had come to enjoy, indeed to expect, a response of admiration from others, whether strangers or acquaintances. His dress, bearing, and lifestyle were the result of his studied effort to ensure admiring looks and responses from others and to guard against anything that would complicate or mask that reaction. Given his overall circumstances, these things would be considered a normal and natural consequence of his station rather than a character flaw. In no sense did he consider it a fault. In any event, his strengths far outweighed any weaknesses. Robert Kingwood was an intelligent and competent man, a loving and obedient son, and a warm, kind, and caring person. He enjoyed the attention and accoutrements that public office and his family's financial success provided him. Likewise, this same statement was carried over to his public escorts, who were uniformly the most attractive and acceptable of the financially advantaged blacks.
He seldom appeared with the same women more than once and only on extremely rare occasions were these relationships allowed to develop into sexual encounters. Those were reserved for more private rendezvous with other attractive women from less acceptable family backgrounds. Thus, "His Honor" assured his acceptance by the correct families and just as important to him, his continued bachelorhood was essentially accepted and understood, without question or concern.
His decision to campaign for public office was not the result of a long-term master plan. His father and uncle had been involved in political affairs long enough to realize that once the white community became frightened by some viable but less acceptable black candidate, Robert would be offered the backing of the white power structure with minimal obligations, and so it was that he became mayor of New Orleans.
Windfall financial activity began with offshore drilling along the southern tip of the state, for which New Orleans served as the economic and business hub. Over a period of 40 years, the state had adjusted easily to distributing and disposing of the largess in taxes and experienced a resulting boom in business growth and government spending at every level. The state of Louisiana was particularly hard hit by the rapid evaporation of this industry resulting from the oil problems of the mid 80's. The economy took a rapid and extended nose dive.
The timing that had been so right for his election was suddenly very wrong for his style of leadership. His well oiled operation began to develop small but increasingly obvious weaknesses. The funding for the myriad community projects and pork barrel programs simply no longer existed. It fell to "His Honor" to dismantle the projects and streamline the government workforce. Large numbers of people of all races were feeling disenfranchised. Necessary maintenance to roads, parks, and government buildings went lacking, not a very healthy image for a tourist town.
All this eroded Kingwood's support in the business community. As in most metropolitan areas, crack cocaine use became rampant in the inner city and the incidence of armed robbery and other violent crimes sky-rocketed, but because of the dependency on tourist dollars, it was especially necessary to attempt to keep a lid on information about the problem in New Orleans. After all, if tourists came to be aware of the risks they were facing, they would go elsewhere. There is a natural ebb and flow in most administrations, but the nature and timing of the offense against Laurell Porter and the resulting unrest was particularly damaging to this one.
The glow of Mayor Kingwood's administration was becoming tarnished, and along with that and his personal political prospects which seemed assured such a short time ago were rapidly diminishing. The mayor rationalized that few persons, if anyone, could have handled these unpredictable and insurmountable problems as well as he had done, but he also knew that this and a couple of dollars would buy him little more than coffee and beignets at Cafe' Du Monde. He never had any reason before to doubt his ability to handle any situation. Increasingly, he now found himself crowded by such doubts.
To his credit and to that of his stable upbringing, Robert Kingwood's concerns were not principally for himself or his political future. He recognized that if he did not maintain a steadied control, his city, indeed, this unique culture, could easily explode into a conflagration, that once begun, would spread like wildfire.
He was filled with despair and self-doubts and was momentarily blinded to an appreciation of the qualities of his background, unique personal preparation, and strong political support system. His greatest source of confidence and relief continued to be the unquestioned knowledge that, no matter what, he could rely on the counsel, backing, and support of Robert, Sr. and Uncle Easy. If there was an answer to the city's problems, their experience, perspective, and power would bring him through.
Chapter 4
Walking through the offices to his secretary's desk, he quickly scanned the room to be certain there were no visitors. Before he could turn to her, she volunteered, "There's no one here." The mayor looked, and while smiling, shook his head in admiration. "You're lookin' sharp, Babe, as usual. Have I had any calls?" "That assistant superintendent of police - what's his name" - looking at her notes - "Brian Stokely called to be sure you were aware that the body of some child was found near City Park." "I heard a little about it on the radio on the way back from the meeting. Did he provide us with the details?" "Nope. He'll be putting together all they have to brief superintendent Landry when he gets in. He said if you need any info in a hurry, call him and he will fill you in." "He's a pretty impressive fellow, don't you think?" "Yeah, I think so. A hell of a lot more on the ball than his ole windbag boss - who would probably demote him to a beat cop, if he knew he'd called." "Well, that ain't gonna happen." "Which one, telling Landry he called or his being demoted?" "Neither one." "Good for you. You got another call from some guy, Uriah Stump, who wants to see you as soon as possible, and I quote, 'along with and in the interest of one of his constituents'." "Oh, Shit." "I take it you know this character. If you want to see him, we can squeeze him in for an hour at three. Do you want me to set it up?" Robert tightened his lips before responding. "NO, let me check him out first. To answer your other question, yeah, I think I recall him. You're right he is a genuine character." He turned away without further comment and moved quickly past his desk ,crashing his right thigh against the corner. One more reason to detest the massive wood furnishings left over from the previous administration. He punched the first number on his speed dialer. His father picked up immediately on the other end. "Hi Pop, I've got an appointment request from Uriah Stump. Is that the short, dark, bald headed little guy who has a deep voice and always wears the same old grey, three piece polyester suit with bell bottom pants? " "That's him. What does he want?" "I don't know yet. I just walked in from a planning commission meeting. I thought I would check him out before I returned his call." "Well, he's not a player, but he is a worker. If you can spare the time, there's no reason to offend him. You never know when we might need him." "I just wanted to know if he was the same fellow and in good graces. If I remember right, he likes to hear himself talk. I figure I'd better get me some lunch before I let him come in." The father coughed. "Well, you remember right. You don't have to listen to all that tripe. Just give him a smile, a handshake and a pat on the butt. It comes with the territory, T." Robert smiled to himself. "Yeah, no problem." "You are coming over to eat at Auntie Lois' tonight aren't you?" "Plan to, like always, unless something comes up." "Well, we'll see you then. Wait a minute." Robert held the phone, knowing that his father was checking with his uncle. He came back on and said: "Naw, he says y'all are slick. See you tonight." "Okay, Pop." He disconnected and began to dial a number, but spotting Joni standing in the doorway, he returned the phone to the cradle and looked up at her. "Joni, how about getting that guy on the phone and I'll take it." He rubbed his thigh and pursed his lips once she was gone. In a moment she returned to t
he open door of his office, held up three fingers and pointed to the telephone. He sat forward in his chair and hunched over the phone. "Mr. Stump, T. Kingwood. How are you ,sir. I haven't seen you in too long." He heard the caller clear his voice and take a deep breath. In measured words, the man's rich deep voice began. "Thank you, Mr. Mayor. I was hopin' you'd get back to me soon. We've got a big problem out here in the neighborhood. Have you heard about the child who was killed?"
"Only briefly, Mr. Stump. The police department is putting together a report for me, but right now I know little more than what I heard over the radio between meetings." "Well, the daddy of the boy is a fine man. One of our leading citizens out this way. Has a good job with the post office. Seems like a white detective's got his back up and won't let 'im see his boy." "Is he there with you now, Mr. Stump?" "Yessuh." He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling as he talked. "You haven't turned on the t.v. or the radio or anything, have you?" "Nawsuh." "Leave home right now and come directly to my office. I won't be able to see you until three, but y'all can be comfortable in my office. Mr. Stump, whatever you do, don't turn on the car radio or stop where some television might be playing. I understand they are broadcasting some things he really doesn't need to hear, okay?" "Yessuh, we be leavin' right now." Robert rose from his chair and walked to the open doorway. "Joni, call Landry. Tell him I need him here by a quarter to three. If he's not available, that's fine. It'll give us an excuse to have Stokely here in his place, but we'd better try Landry first. Tell whoever it is that the father of the dead boy is coming in with a complaint. We need to know all the available information beforehand. Also, call Stokely and find out what he has. Tell him to brief Landry if he hasn't already. In the meantime, I need some air. I'll run down the street and pick us up a sandwich. Let me see, it's Friday, a shrimp po-boy, right?" "Naturally." She flipped a smile his way. "By the way, you mentioned we could squeeze these people in at three. What else do I have scheduled?" She paused before answering. "Not a thing. I told your mother I would try to run you out of here by four so you won't be late for your aunt's dinner for a change." Cocking his head and looking through the tops of his eyes, but with the hint of a smile, he asked: "Why is it I get the feeling that I'm nothing more than a puppet on a string here. You might better call Mama and tell her I'll probably be working late and not to wait for me." She stuck her tongue out at him. He shrugged and said: "Hey, it be's dat way sometime." Eating their sandwiches in his office, he listened as she referred to her notes. "Landry will be here as instructed and Stokely will prepare him. Stokely doesn't have very much. He's waiting for a captain to de-brief two homicide detectives. I suggested the detectives be here by three thirty in case you need them. They asked if they could just remain on call since they are preparing a presentation at an assemblage of all homicide staff tonight.”
"Apparently they intend to throw everything they have at this. I was about to tell Stokely I'd have to discuss that with you when he mentioned they were goin' to have a hell of a time getting anything done since the media has their offices under siege. I suggested to them that, if it would help them, they could use the facilities across the hall since they're vacant this week. Also, I offered to arrange for their use of the fifth floor auditorium tonight for their meeting, if they wanted it." She drummed her pencil on her pad. "You know, you really ought to give those folks more of your attention. It was just an afterthought. They sounded like they were so grateful they were falling all over themselves like redheaded stepchildren. I told 'em, hell, you'd share it anytime there was no scheduled use and that we're all on the same team, aren't we?"
"Joni, you're so damned efficient, how could I ever get along without you?" She looked down at her pad as she fiddled with the hem of her skirt. "Damned if I know, but keep the thought. By the way, your mother is concerned that you're working too hard." She feigned a yawn while holding her open hand alongside her eye forming a big wink with her thumb and fingers - only briefly moving her eyes from her steno pad. Flint and Johnson entered the restaurant and spotted Rene Aubrian at the pay phone on the far wall motioning for them to take a seat away from the other patrons. He hung up the phone and walked to the table shaking his head. His suit was rumpled, as usual, as was his shirt. Uncharacteristically, his collar was buttoned and his tie was only slightly askew. Seating himself, he threw up his hands. "You guys must've had a morning like mine. That was the superintendent's office on the phone. The mayor has had a complaint from the father you met this morning."
Johnson, seeing the stunned look of disbelief on Flint's face, quickly began filling in the Captain on the events of the morning.
"Fellas ..." Aubrian said in exasperation, his Adam's apple working overtime, "I've got to tell you. I don't have any idea what we have here at all, but I can see the potential for things getting out of hand in a hurry. We had better come up with some answers, yesterday, or absent that, be able to demonstrate an outrageous effort to get some answers. We all know the direction praise goes and who ends up with crap in their lap. Ken, I know you've been working a double shift today. If it makes you feel any better, the entire division will be doing the same as soon as I can get a clearance. That applies to you two as of now. I'm going to set in motion a meeting of all detectives in the division for six tonight. In the meantime, you two divide between yourselves the job of getting all the info available on the Porter case from the M.E. and I.D. If you have to use my name to push, go ahead, but please try not to make things any more complicated than they are now. Then get back to your desks and prepare a presentation. Put it together as completely as you can because unless we get an early break on this, and by that I mean this afternoon or tonight, I'm going to ask you to make the presentation to all department heads for priority authorization in information gathering by all units."
Aubrian leaned back in his chair. As Flint and Johnson stared at one another, their expressions revealed the doubt they could put together a meaningful presentation so quickly, especially with so little evidence uncovered. Aubrian's hand held radio squawked with instructions to contact Assistant Superintendent Stokley by land line. He walked across the room to the pay phone. In his absence Flint and Johnson were dividing up the assignment.
Returning to the table, Aubrian wiped his hands on his trousers before rubbing his eyes. His shirt collar was now unbuttoned and his tie was pulled to one side. "Okay team", he said with an exaggerated shrug, "I've got some good news and some bad news. The good news is that what I said still holds, the only problem is that the schedule has been changed. We have been instructed to report to the mayor's office at three thirty this afternoon to answer any questions he and Supt. Landry have over the way you handled the interview this morning. Stokely told me that the media is camping en masse at the division office. Apparently there's bedlam. Stokely said it reminds him of the Aquarium of the Americas ... feeding time, shark tank." Aubrian grinned, the detectives did not. "Stokely will take care of operations at the division office, and we're going to be allowed some peace and quiet in some offices the mayor will make available to us. Whose car are you in?" Aubrian asked looking at Flint.
"Johnson's," Flint replied.
Aubrian nodded and paused. "Okay Flint, you drop me at City Hall. Take my car, do what you have to do and get back to the offices of the chief administrator as soon as you can. She's out of town and we will have the run of the place. Don't go by the mayor's office. I'll take care of coordinating with them. I don't want you to run into Mr. Porter."
Realizing how stressed the two detectives must be he attempted to interject some levity. "You heard what a looker the mayor's secretary is? Ever seen her?" Both detectives shook their heads in response. "Well she's tall, blonde hair, blue eyes, stacked and has perfect legs. They go all the way from the floor to her butt by a long and curvy route. I place these awesome responsibilities on myself by virtue of my maturity, polish and experience." Aubrian said posing ala Clarence Darrow, holding his sagging and wrinkled coat lapels in either hand. "I do s
o only to sacrifice myself in your interests, you understand, to protect you from the possibility you might loose control, fall at her feet and slobber all over her panty hose."
His efforts didn't work. Aubrian was too much of a type A personality to be funny. Out of respect for him both men feigned a smile. Johnson looked over at Flint. "If Cap'n gets anybody to believe that, he ought'a sign up for law school."
Aubrian's face sagged in response to their reactions but he quickly feigned a serious expression and barked: "What you better do is get your asses in gear and get back to City Hall way before three thirty. If I have to go to that meeting by myself, you aint gone live to see another day."
Chapter 5
The mayor strode through his outer office, throwing polite nods to Joni, who was on the phone, and the teen-aged clerk from the tax assessor's office who delivered coffee to them every morning.
In one quick motion, Joni cradled the receiver against her neck and extended pink messages with her free hand. Robert kept walking. He heard only the words he recited inside his own head. Friendliness, Acceptance, Concern, Support, Diffuse, and Divert. Joni stared as he stopped in front of the ornate mahogany door leading to his office. A canned smile spread across his face as his fingers touched the door's polished brass knob. Joni rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and shrugged her shoulders as she resumed her telephone conversation. As he entered the room his smile broadened when he saw a seated Uriah Stump clasping his hands in his lap, wearing the usual grey suit, pink shirt and maroon tie. His face was absent its usual look of adoration. Instead, worry lines wrinkled his brow.