by Jerry Brown
"I didn't see any reading glasses," Flint said.
"I didn't either, but I'll bet he has some. He only glanced at the page. That could mean that he knew what the design was, or just wasn't interested, or maybe he knew he couldn't make out what he was lookin' at. How many folks his age don't need readin' glasses? For somebody as rigid as he is, there'd be a reluctance to put them on, an admission of an imperfection, of weakness."
"What'll you do if he decides not to play?"
"I'll start focusin' on someone else while you continue your investigation of him or possibly turn him over to the feds. He'd still be dangerous and up to no good."
"Okay, what if he decides to reject your bait and merely tries to play the mental games with you?"
"That would be the biggest mistake he could make."
"Are you that sure of yourself?"
"Do you mean am I that sure I would win one on one with him?"
"Yes."
"No, quite the contrary. He'd have all the odds in his favor. But I won't play by his rules. If he starts that, I'd just give him all the rope he wants while you're gettin' your ducks in a row. I'd begin to show signs of disinterest. He'd become more brazen. Maybe he'll make a mistake and go too far. If not, or if I blow it, we'll bring on the pressure from every possible direction. Then he'll either make a foolish error and we'll get him, or he'll explode and we'll get him, or he will deteriorate and at least be taken out of the action. Heads we win. Tails he loses.”
Flint pulled up to the front of the apartment. Bowman touched his shoulder and the overhead light came on as he opened the door. Flint said, "Wait a minute. There's one more question. Why did you zero in on Womack?"
"Once I considered the likelihood that the Porter child was sexually assaulted, Womack stood out like a sore thumb."
"Are you sayin' Womack is gay?"
"I'm saying he could be and, if so, it could explain a lot about his personality and his guardedness. Homosexuality is often present with paranoia. But the point is, if that's part of his make-up -- does he know it or not. If he knows it, has he given in to his urges? Is he into young kids? Why was he transferred so many times in California? Why did he leave there with so much retirement time built up? Was he forced to leave because of some incident? If so, he could very well be our man. If that wasn't the case and he's built up a very rigid and complex defense system against his urges, that could go a long way in explainin' his guardedness and why he thinks and acts the way he does. Anyway, it's all outrageous speculation. We should know a lot more about Mr. Womack in the next few days. You're not flyin' blind anymore and I had an excitin' evenin'. Talk to you tomorrow."
Flint looked through the windshield and pushed back in the seat. When the door shut and the overhead light went off, he drove from the curb without looking and almost hit a car turning the corner. It had been that kind of a day.
Chapter 24
Unlocking the door to the apartment, he entered quickly, stretching while loosening his tie and nudging the door closed with his hip. During the challenge of the interview when his mind was clicking and the juices flowing, Bowman was supercharged. Now, he was mentally spent and suddenly exhausted. All he wanted was a hot bath and a soft pillow. Just as he finished his bath and slipped on his skivvies, the phone rang.
"Boss, who wuz dat bitch in my bed?"
"Hello to you too, Em." Bowman said somewhat crossly. He looked up at the ceiling, closed his eyes and softened his voice. "She's an aide from the police department. She'd been up all night working on a report for me. I suggested she use your room to take a nap. I didn't think you'd mind. Do you have somethin' for me?" he asked as he moved to the couch and melted into it, his head back.
"Naw, I just came by to get my clothes. I thank I'm gonna play a couple a tunes with dat band tonight. I'm a little scared, but Earline told me if I didn't, she wuz gonna run me off."
"Well, good for her. Where are you gonna play? Can I come?" He moved forward resting his elbows on his knees.
"Heck no. Wait'n see how I'm gonna do. I'll be scared enough roun' people I don' even know. You'd jes' make me mo' scared."
"Mo' scared, huh. Well, let yourself go and just enjoy yourself. It's what you always wanted to do. Just think about your music and what the rest of the band is doin'. You'll be okay." Bowman gleamed as he imagined Em's excitement. He leaned back and moved his bare heels to the coffee table. "How'd your day go?"
"Well, I went to the park this mawnin'. Then it started turnin' hot. Tha's when I came after the clothes. You wudn't there an' Earline wudn't here, so I jes' went back out there and practiced some more. You said if I saw anythin' strange to try to remember everthin' I saw. Man, you talkin' strange, this guy was somethin' else."
"What was he doin', Em?"
"He wuz jes' hidin' behin' some bushes, lookin'."
"Was he lookin' at you, Em?" Bowman's voice became higher pitched. He moved his feet to the floor and pressed the phone closer against his ear.
"Naw, I don' think he even knew I wuz dere. I wuz up in a tree."
"Were you playin' your songs when you spotted him?"
"I wuz fore I saw 'im, but I wudn't playin' none a my hot stuff. When I saw 'im, I din't do nothin', jes' watched 'im."
"What did he look like?"
"He wuz a big dude."
"Big or tall?"
"He wadn't fat at all. Fact is, he wuz kind'a skinny."
"Was he taller than me, Em?"
"Taller'n you 'n Flint, too. He wuz a big dude. Long arms. Great big ole hands. I ain't nev'a seen no hands 'at big."
"Was he a white guy or a black guy?"
"He wuz white."
"What color hair did he have?"
"Bout de same as yours but he din't have as much in front as you do."
Bowman slid forward to the edge of the couch. "Are you telling me, he was startin' to go bald or that his hair was just cut shorter than mine?"
"Well, he ain't bald. He had plenty a hair. Jes' back a bit."
"A receding forehead," Bowman suggested.
"I guess so."
"What about his clothes, Em? What was he wearing?"
"A long sleeve blue shirt dat wuz too little for 'im in de arms."
"Did he have big muscles or was it just short?"
"He din't have muscles zackly. De shirt jes' din't go all de way down he arms and dey wadn't buttoned."
"What about his pants?" Bowman asked.
"Blue jeans."
"Did they have any design on them or anythin' unusual about 'em?"
"Naw, jes' reg'lah blue jeans."
"What about his shoes? What kind of shoes was he wearin'?"
"I don' recollec' 'bout de shoes, but he walks funny."
Bowman rubbed the back of his neck. "What do you mean, he walks funny? Does he limp?"
"No, jes' walks funny. I don' know how to 'splain it to ya'."
"Did he have a stick or a gun or anything like that?"
"Boss, if he'd a had a gun, I wud'na been hangin' roun' lookin' at 'im. Din't have no stick either. He did have a big cotton sack like what dey have at the post office."
"A white canvas bag?"
"I don' know 'bout 'at. It wuz dirty. Might'a been white sometime. It was jes' like de post office bags, 'cept it wuz dirty," Em said somewhat impatiently.
Bowman held up the palm of his hand. "Okay Em, just a few more questions. What do you think he was lookin'at?"
"Them folks hittin' 'at li'l ball, I guess. He wadn't doin' nothin' wrong. Jes' he look so funny and he wuz kind'a hidin' like. He wadn't gone let 'em see 'im."
"Okay, one last question, how far away from you was he?"
"Close nuf' so's I could see 'im good. But far enuf' away he wudn't gone catch me."
"Was it as far away as the Clark's house from the paved road?"
"Bout half 'at far."
"Okay, one more thing. About what time was it when you spotted him; early in the afternoon, middle of the afternoon or late?"
"I saw 'im right after I got dere. I hadn't been dere fifteen minutes."
"Did you watch him leave?"
"I already tole you, I saw 'im walk," Em answered testily.
Bowman moved his right hand to the mouthpiece as he dropped his left hand and rose to pace. "Em, I know you're tired of answerin' questions, but these are things I need to know. I don't want to take any chances of your gettin' hurt."
"I ain't gone get hurt. I did jes' like you tole me. I got in 'at tree wid 'at open field 'tween me and da woods. If he'd a come afta me, I'da been long gone."
"Are you going back out there tomorrow?"
"Sho', but I may be up late tonight."
"Try to be there about the same time tomorrow afternoon, as today. Maybe go a little earlier. If you see him, just watch him like you did today. Look at his shoes and what he's wearin'. As soon as you're absolutely sure he's gone, come directly here or call me, okay? Em, you're doin' a good job. Do you need any money?"
"No, I might come and git some tomorrow. I think it's 'bout time for Earline to make some groceries."
"Make some groceries. Em, you're movin' right in, aren't you? Your mama doesn't say makin' groceries, does she?"
"Naw, but Earline do."
Chapter 25
Rubbing his eyes, Bowman forced himself awake as the phone rang for a second time. He pushed himself up from the bed with both hands and staggered to the living room. He stretched across the side of the couch and grabbed for the telephone, fearful that the other party would click off. As he answered, he yawned. "I woke you up, didn't I?” Flint asked in his characteristic guttural voice. "Yeah, but I'm glad you did. I've been thinking we ought to hold back on sharin' information with the feds about Womack.” Bowman ran his hands through his hair and adjusted the elastic waistband of his undershorts. "You can ask them about intelligence on the Minutemen, but let's be coy about him. We don't want them to screw up our game plan until we're through with him. If he calls, set up a meet between Womack and me as soon as you can. Make it for late afternoon at the sidewalk cafe on Gentilly Boulevard, across from the Fairgrounds Racetrack.” "Do you think he'll call this soon?" Flint asked.
"Sure, why not, and I want to be sure we're on the same page. Just go ahead and set up a meet to avoid missin' the opportunity. If he doesn't call by tomorrow afternoon, I don't want to give him the weekend. You can go ahead then and open your investigation full scale. I don't think we should wait any longer than that. I don't know what your plans are, but if you want to begin surveillance of him over the weekend, have at it."
"You're just goin' to give up on him?" Flint asked, his brow furrowed.
"No, not at all. I just don't want things to float too long. We have no way of knowin' his reaction to the interview. No sense in allowin' him to go underground."
After hanging up with Flint, he shaved and dressed in jeans, sneakers and a short sleeve white cotton shirt. He strolled to the living room and opened all the blinds. The traffic below was slow and the trees were motionless. The sun beamed and he knew the temperature would be sweltering. God I hate hurry up and wait, he thought. He was itchy for action. This was the hard part for him, always was.
Until he heard the light knock on the door, it had not occurred to him that Yvonne Arceneaux had neither called nor dropped by the previous afternoon, despite her insistence that she was going to do so.
It was Yvonne, but it was an entirely different Yvonne. Bowman's mouth dropped open despite his best efforts at control. Her shiny hair was freshly washed. It was brushed straight back except for a small clump that hung over her right forehand. The rest flowed unrestrained over her shoulders and back to her shoulder blades. She wore heavy make up. The eyeliner brought his attention to her eyes, which were either extremely dark brown or black. He'd never noticed her eyes before. She was unquestionably a fully developed woman, but she had the innocent look of a child in her eyes. Her lipstick was deep red, which contrasted sharply with her white even teeth. He'd never noticed how perfect her teeth were, either. She wore large dangling brass ear ornaments -- no necklace or bracelets. Her white v-neck blouse was adorned with a row of small buttons, all unbuttoned. Her black slacks were close fitting, but not tight. They accentuated her long shapely legs. She wore white canvas lace up shoes. Bowman could've probably been successful in blunting his reaction had it not been for her bra selection. He spotted the outline of shoulder straps, but the bra did not blunt the impression of her erect nipples showing through her blouse, as did the ridges of the aureole. Yvonne was a very busty woman. There was no sag to her breasts. Bowman looked too long. Her full smile suggested that she was pleased. He attempted to run for cover by blurting: "You look great, Yvonne," and quickly stepped aside to let her through the door. He followed with a distancing statement. "You look rested from that marathon writing session the other night."
"Yes, I'm rarin' to go. Ready to hit the books again. I don't have it typed because I haven't exhausted the research, but I thought I'd share with you some of the things I learned about the swastika. I got this part from Compton's Encyclopedia."
Bowman reached for a note pad.
"You don't have to take notes. You can have these. I made photocopies for myself."
Bowman stepped to her side to see the page. The notes were handwritten in a large and legible script.
"Why don't we sit down and you read it to me then."
Yvonne sat in the middle of the couch. Bowman moved away and sat in a chair directly across the coffee table from her.
Starting again, Yvonne said: "This is from Compton's Encyclopedia. I don't know if I took it down word for word, but it's close: 'An ancient symbol of unknown origin employed thousands of years as a religious sign and decorative emblem,... appeared in Ancient China, India and Egypt - on greek coins, pre-christian Celtic and Scandinavian artifacts, in catacombs of early Christian's Roman Byzantine buildings. Widely used by American Indians. It represented the sun and infinity."
She squirmed and crossed her legs. "I also found something in a book titled: Dictionary of the Occult. 'Universal Mythic Symbol consisting of an equal-armed cross with four 'arms' which appeared to rotate in the same direction. Regarded by many as a type of 'sunwheel'; the swastika represents eternal movement and spiritual renewal. The counter clockwise swastika adopted by the Nazis is regarded as symbolizing movement away from the 'God head' and has become the contemporary motif of evil; while the clockwise swastika represents movement toward God and suggests a cosmic rhythm in tune with the universe."
She glanced up at his eyes and slowly switched the cross of her legs. She caught Bowman's eye and rubbed the side of her nose. "As an aside, the figure on the page you gave me was clockwise, which is the opposite of the Nazi one. Theirs was rotated on its axis. This one was flat." Yvonne explained.
"I've found one more book called The Encyclopedia of Witches and Witchcraft. The Navaho use it in the healing ceremonies of sand painting. Its division into quadrants has been interpreted as symbolic of the four directions of the compass and the four corners of the earth. The center of the cross is sometimes viewed as symbolic of the center of the cosmos. There are two kinds of swastikas; right handed and left handed which represent the autumnal sun... The swastika does not appear in neo-Pagan witchcraft symbolism."
She dropped the papers on the cocktail table and looked over at him. "Well missy, I'll say you put in a pretty full week. I think you should take off the rest of the day and start an early weekend. Then Monday you can type up a report and give a copy of it to Captain Aubrian. Yvonne, this is very helpful."
"What are you goin' to do this weekend?" she asked oddly.
He could not tell if her question was personal or professional. "I don't know yet," Bowman partially lied. "I have somethin' workin', that may come to a head today or tomorrow. If nothin' comes of it, I've been considerin' flying to Baltimore for the weekend."
"What's in Baltimore?" Arceneaux asked.
"A friend," Bowman answered, wondering where
these questions were going and if her NEW look had anything to do with her NEW interest in his life.
"A male friend or a female friend?"
"Most definitely and absolutely a female friend."
Arceneaux did not show offense or disappointment, but merely cocked her head a little to the right and studied Bowman with the corners of her eyes.
Bowman thought to himself, This isn't goin' to be as easy as I thought.
Arceneaux stared into his eyes as she rose to leave. "I'll put in a full day today and drop by this afternoon. I may cut out a little early tomorrow. Let me know if you decide to go to Baltimore and I'll give you a ride to the airport."
Bowman answered only with a nod and a smile. He realized that Womack had taught him a thing or two.
Chapter 26
Walking from room to room of the apartment, he opened every interior door and adjusted the blinds for maximum light. As he moved, his thoughts raced. What's goin' on with Arceneaux? What's her game? Has she really been seein' Landry? Why should I care? Hell, I don't care. I've tried to keep her at a distance. Tried to help with her career. She's so damn aggressive. Why is she aiming her love light at me? I don't need this crap! Why does she pursue men old enough to be her daddy? Moving to the lavatory, he wiped his face and neck with a cold washcloth. He studied his reflection in the mirror. You ole scoundrel, he thought. Who're you tryin' to fool? She's young and beautiful, no doubt about that. You're susceptible --- don't deny it. While you're at it, why haven't you called Annie since you've been here? All the resolutions made on the balcony of the old house, was all that so meaningless? What's goin' on in you're own head, Sport? I've got to get out of this place. I'm goin' nuts. I need to be here if Flint calls. Emrick may need me. He brushed his hair and quickly left the apartment. Standing in place at the corner, he panned the left, front, and right of him. Two men stood together at the corner across the street and boulevard from him. They made no effort to conceal grim stares directed at him. He set out walking at a brisk pace. They did not follow. He didn't know how long he'd been walking nor was he entirely sure the route which he had taken. He stopped in a K&B drug store for directions to the racetrack and, while there, purchased the weakest pair of reading glasses he could find. It galled him that he could read the test message so much clearer with the glasses.