The Heart is a Lonely Hunter

by Unknown

  “Yes, sir. Yes, it is.”

  “And you’re aware that Mr. Davenport and your boss, Mr. Morris, if I’m correct have been doing business for many years.” Mr. Shannon was alluding to something or another, trying to establish some causal-effect type of relationship. But what? Where the hell was he attempting to go with all this conjecture?

  Why didn’t he just ask what it was that he wanted to know instead of beating around the damn mulberry bush?

  “Yes, I’m aware that Mr. Davenport and Mr. Morris conducted business prior to my joining the agency. Now, would you be so kind as to tell me what this is really all about? I know it’s not about the ivory because the ivory is legal. Aside from that, I’ve been living in hotels for three weeks and am a bit anxious to get on home to my wife and my own bed.” There! No more bullshit, he’d said what he had to say and in a way as to not enrage these stupid wanna-be cops.

  “All in due time, Mr. Stanton. All in due time. Please try to bear with us. I assure you this won’t take much longer. Now, did you by any chance get a chance to check your cargo prior to leaving Lagos, Mr. Stanton?”

  “No, I did not.” William slumped down in the worn-out leather chair resigning himself to the fact that he wouldn’t be going anywhere, anytime soon.

  “Mr. Stanton, everything you’ve told us corresponds to what the Nigerian authorities have told us. We are also aware of a network that has been in operation for many years now and, yes, long before your arrival at Hill and Morris. This network was set up between Davenport and your supervisor in the late Seventies and has flourished under the guise of importing ivory. Now that there is no trade in ivory, their interest in Nigeria became more and more suspicious. Certain members of the Justice Department became increasingly concerned since both men were welcomed and openly embraced by a military regime openly hostile to foreigners and Americans in particular. The country was under martial law. There was a new government in power, a power that emanated almost out of the blue. So, secret was the coup that our intelligence wasn’t even aware of them until they were firmly entrenched. Yet, both Davenport and Morris, seemed abreast of everything.

  At first, it was thought that they were supplying the new regime with weapons. You know gun running and we have not ruled this out entirely. However, we’ve no concrete evidence to support our allegations on this theory. Of one thing we are certain, however, and that is that they have been using the export of ivory as a cover-up for the smuggling of narcotics into the U.S. and other countries. Heroin, to be more specific.”

  William was visibly shaken.

  “Can you tell us who it was that approached you concerning the trip to Lagos? Did Morris come to you, personally?” Shannon questioned.

  “Yes, sir. Do I need to call my lawyer?” William asked nervously.

  “We are not charging you with anything, Mr. Stanton. We’re pretty sure that the old man was simply using you as a mule, a courier. He’s done it before. We’ve just never had enough evidence for an indictment. We’re hoping that with your cooperation, we’ll finally get enough evidence to make for an airtight case.”

  “And if I decide not to cooperate with customs?” William inquired, although he knew his options were few. The only reason they were being so cordial was that a cooperative witness could only be a boon to their efforts for an indictment.

  “Well, the choice is yours, Mr. Stanton. The way it stands now, I think the DEA would be somewhat interested in the final destination of your cargo. Let’s see, we have three cartons containing a little more than thirty-five pounds of high-grade heroin with your name attached. That’s enough in itself to send you away for how long, Pete?”

  The shorter of the two men standing was from DEA. He seemed to relish this part of the inquiry and didn’t hesitate to throw the book at him.

  “Do you believe in reincarnation, Mr. Stanton? Throw in concealment, conspiracy, attempting to distribute, international trafficking and that kind of weight. Well, let me put it this way, Stanton: If you died and came back you’d still be facing a life sentence or two.”

  Shannon spoke up again.

  “We’re not even considering that as an option, Mr. Stanton. We’ve taken the liberty to check your background. We know you’re not a player. From all accounts, our records indicate that you’ve never had so much as a traffic violation let alone a trafficking conviction. Your boss is the one we’re really after, Stanton. Say, you don’t mind if I call you William, do you?”

  William nodded, giving his consent to the feeble attempts at familiarity and friendship.

  “Call me Terry. I don’t think there’s a need for all the formality being that we’re going to be working with each other for the next few months. Do you agree?”

  Again William consented. He had no desire to fight some long, drawn out legal battle with the Government with the odds clearly stacked against him.

  “William, do you have any idea what two hundred pounds of pure heroin can do to a city the size of say New York or better yet right here in Fulton County? I’ve seen it. Trust me. It’s not a pretty sight. Just think of the kids. Isn’t your wife a teacher? Think of little Alex and his brothers and sisters on that shit. C’mon, Stanton, think!”

  William was doing just that. He was thinking of Sylvia. She had begged him not to go and he had ignored her pleas, her remarks, and her better judgment until he could bear it no more. Then he’d done something he’d seen his father do so many times to his mother. He slapped her. And for what? At the time, he thought Sill was like every other no-account sister, grateful to be wherever, with whomever, doing whatever with no more sense of purpose than a man on the moon. Criticizing Mr. Morris because to fathom a trip to Africa was beyond her comprehension. She, who was so in touch with her Black-ness...How could she possibly turn down a trip to the Motherland? The thoughts of his last encounter with Sylvia swirled around in his head until he found himself becoming lightheaded. How could he possibly face her? She with her holier-than-thou attitude? Shannon was still speaking to him but little mattered now. William felt betrayed and then Shannon said something that pierced the sea of self-pity he found himself adrift in.

  “By the way, if it’s any consolation, the Nigerian people were extremely pleased with the way you carried yourself while you were there and the way you befriended young Alex. Everyone to the person, from the doorman at the hotel, to the U.S. ambassador told us the story of Alex and the trust fund. By the time I reached the airport, I knew I had the wrong guy. Did a world of good for our diplomatic relations over there. Might wanna pass on a tip or two to some of our ambassadors about conducting foreign policy.”

  William smiled sheepishly. After all he’d just been through; it felt good to know that his entire trip had not been in vain. Despite appearing to be a notorious international drug lord, his trip thanks to a nine year old boy, did have some redeeming value.

  “Listen William, I can see you’re exhausted. Take your time. Call your lawyer. See what he advises. Get reacquainted with the wife. Then give me a call. Here’s my card. I must ask that you stay in the country for the time being, however. If for any reason you’re compelled to leave the county, all I ask is that you contact me first.”

  Shannon stood to take William’s hand in his own. Grasping it tightly, he warned William to stay on his p’s and q’s and be cognizant of any peculiarities at work. William thought of the times when he was a small boy not much bigger than Alex when he fashioned himself to be a junior G-man. Now, here he was playing the role in real life.

  Shannon assured him before his leaving that the confiscated drugs would be allowed to continue on their journey so as not to affect the sting operation. However, William’s thoughts returned to Shannon. ‘Get acquainted with the wife’ he’d said. William’s thought of Sill. She had warned him about going in the first place. If he had only listened. What was it they said about a woman’s intuition?

  Terry was still talking when William’s focus returned.

  “You know, Willi
am, most of the people affected by that shit would be little African-American boys and girls. Not to say that they’ll necessarily be the one’s shooting it into their veins. It’s the trickle-down effect that really eats at me. Anyway, it was nice to meet you. Wish it could have been under different circumstances. And don’t worry. There’s no need to look over your shoulder. There won’t be anyone following you. What we’ll be following are the drugs. And from our reports they’ve already left the airport. You have a good day, sir. We’ll be in touch.”

  A good day! How the hell could anyone in their right mind have a good day after being informed that they were for all intensive purposes a drug courier? By the time William left the airport, he was exhausted. Drained both mentally and physically. He was glad Melinda hadn’t waited. He could have taken the airport shuttle but felt the long walk in the brisk, night air might help clear his head. He cursed Ol’ Man Morris, sometimes aloud, calling him among other things, ‘A dirty bastard.’

  An hour or so later, William turned the nose of the Mercedes into the long driveway. Opening the trunk, he arranged the many gifts and souvenirs in the order he wanted Sill to open them. Then he rang the doorbell. He was sure that in spite of everything she would be glad to see him. With all the adversity befalling him, she was still the one constant in his life. He rang the doorbell again. Still, there was no answer. He had no idea where she could be. It was well past five o’clock. Too late for her to still be at school and too early for Bible study. She hadn’t been home when he’d called each evening either. His mind began to race. And after a day like today, he refused to think the worst. No, Sill had to be home. Maybe she’d gone out to grab a bite to eat. William put the packages down, rummaged through his trouser pockets, found his keys and opened the front door. And there he stood, frozen in his tracks.

  “What the hell!” he yelled.

  His initial thoughts were that they’d been robbed. There was nothing there except for the big-screen TV. And then it dawned on him. No wonder she hadn’t answered the phone. Dropping the packages, he ran from room to room, screaming Sill’s name, half expecting to find her in a crumpled up heap, blood everywhere in the corner of some room. Or maybe he’d find her, clothes ripped and torn, sprawled across their bed, a victim of rape. Gruesome images hurled their way through the muck and mire, which clouded his mind. And then in the middle of the empty room, where their bed once stood, sat a bottle of cognac with a note attached. He caught his breath, bent down, picked up the empty bottle and read the note:

  m

  “Thought it best that you go your way and I go mine. I gave all that I could give and now I’m taking a little something back. You’ve always had a liking for nice cars, good food and good liquor so I’m leaving you a sandwich in the fridge, a bottle of good whiskey and you’ll find your car outside. Good luck!”

  Sill

  Devastated and on the verge of tears, William uncorked the bottle. An hour later, he was still sitting there in middle of the now empty room, Sill’s note in one hand and an almost empty bottle of Courvosier in the other. In a drunken stupor, William Stanton did something that day, which he hadn’t done in years. He cried. Cried like a baby.

  The following day was Thursday. William’s head was still buzzing when he came to the sudden realization that he was alone, had always been alone and more than likely always would be. But for William this was by no means the end. Thanks, in large part to Sill and his recent fiasco abroad, he had to force himself gather himself together and take a new lease on life.

  He wouldn’t forget, however and in time there were those that would be held accountable for the grief and heartache, which he was forced to endure. Sylvia and Ol’ Man Morris were at the top of his list. They would pay. They had to pay.

  He called West Lansing later that day only to find that Mrs. Stanton was no longer employed there. He then called Terry Shannon at DEA to offer his assistance. Not due to return to the office until the following day, William—a bundle of nerves—was perpetual motion. Several times while wandering around the house, he caught himself muttering to himself and wondered if he were on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

  The DEA promised to contact him should they need his assistance. In the meantime, he was instructed to just ‘hang loose’ and report any unusual happenings at the agency. In a way, he was relieved. This would give him the time to investigate a few things on his own.

  Melinda called to see how things were going and to thank him for the trip. In the midst of the conversation, he mentioned Sill’s leaving. Melinda’s shock mirrored his own initial reaction but she regrouped rather quickly almost too quickly. William was suspicious of everyone at this point. He wondered if Sill had given Melinda any inclination that she was about to walk out on him. Too proud to ask, William didn’t understand, couldn’t fathom Melinda’s cheeky attitude when Sill’s departure was brought up. Several times during the conversation, she had intentionally brushed off the topic of Sill’s leaving. This aroused his curiosity even more. After all, they had been friends. Or so he thought.

  “If you need anything, anything at all, William, be sure to call me. You know the number,” Melinda offered.

  William stopped her. “Well, actually I do need a few things, now that you mention it, Melinda. I could use some groceries and maybe something to drink, you know, purely for medicinal purposes to kind of get me through these next couple of weeks. I’ve got to do some furniture shopping also. Sill cleaned me out.”

  “You po’ thang. Look, give me about fifteen or twenty minutes and I’ll see what I can do. Lord knows we can’t have you pickin’ out any furniture. If your taste in furniture is anything like your taste in clothes, it’ll be stars and stripes forever. Remember that green plaid jacket you tried to match with the lime green paisley tie in Lagos?” They both laughed out loud.

  “Hurry up, Melinda. I’m gonna grab a quick shower so I’ll leave the front door open for you.”

  Melinda pulled up in the long driveway right as William stepped into the shower. Hearing the screen door slam, he shouted. “Melinda, is that you?” When she affirmed that it was he continued. “I’m in the shower. Come on in and make yourself comfortable. You noticed that I didn’t say, ‘Have a seat.’ Sill took the chairs. There’s a bottle of Courvosier on the dresser in the bedroom. I would tell you to get a glass but Sill took them too.

  “I must admit, girlfriend didn’t leave much, at least she left your bed. A man don’t need much more than that, makes for a simple life. Go to work, come home and go to bed.”

  William finished showering and stepped from the bathroom just in time to see Melinda peering in empty room after empty room as if by some divine intervention they were suddenly going to be refurnished. Shaking her head, she turned and faced a partially dressed William Stanton. William finished buttoning his shirt and bent over to tie his shoes. Feeling the intensity of

  Melinda’s gaze, he looked up only to confirm his feeling. She was staring—staring at him like he’d just committed a cardinal sin. She was mystified.

  “What?” William was at a loss.

  “And what masquerade party you plan on attendin’ on a Thursday afternoon, William Stanton? Did Sill take your clothes, too? Lord knows you need someone. If no more than to help you get dressed. Maybe undress too. Whatcha’ think? But seriously, William, just tell me this. Was one of your parents color blind?”

  He scarcely heard the last remark. He was used to her subtle little innuendoes about needing help getting undressed. This was not the first time she had made remarks with sexual connotations. It happened from time to time at the office. And he had joked about her sexually harassing him in the workplace.

  In Lagos, it had become almost a daily occurrence with him dismissing it in the course of the conversation. But there was no dismissing her remarks now. Still, everything needed to be put in proper perspective. There was a time and place for everything. Now was neither the time nor the place. Not ignoring the remark William replied, “I’ve
come to accept the fact that I may need help getting dressed but I wasn’t under the impression that I needed help getting undressed too. Maybe when I get this mess sorted out you can give me some pointers in that area too.”

  William’s attempt to waylay her advances did just that. Without discouraging Melinda or hurting her feelings with a cold rebuff, he let her know that her timing was all wrong. Yet, he left her hopeful. And with Sill gone and winter rapidly approaching, her tight young body might be just what the doctor ordered.

  Melinda grinned from ear to ear.

  “Goodness gracious William, that’s the closest thing to an almost I’ve heard from you in six years. You must be slippin’. C’mon, let’s go shoppin’. Oh, I almost forgot. Please change those clothes.”

  William and Melinda chose a charcoal leather sofa and loveseat for the living room, a couple of stylish glass end tables and a gorgeous, mahogany, dining room set. Melinda was ecstatic. For the first time in her life, she could actually shop without having to worry about how much she had to spend or what something cost. Of course, it wasn’t for her but it sure as hell felt good to be able to spend freely regardless of whose money it was. She’d been obnoxious through the entire shopping spree, knowing that whatever furniture she suggested, William would gladly go along with.

  During the course of the day, she had driven the salesgirl up the wall with unnecessary queries about this wood and that, simply because, for the first time in her life, she could. William’s Gold Card gave her the right. By the time she finally made her final choice, she was so exhausted that she came close to dozing off on the loveseat while they waited for the salesgirl to run William’s Visa card through. Minutes later the salesgirl returned, her walk punctuated with a new rhythm.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Stanton, but your credit card’s been denied. I’m afraid I’m going to have to hang on to it”

  “Not a problem.” William searched through the bevy of cards before handing the girl his American Express card.