Murder on the Down Low

by Pamela Samuels Young

  The reverend lamented the death of his neighbor James Hill and eagerly talked about serving as the minister for the football and basketball teams at Fox Hills Junior College.

  “Sounds like you had a lot of contact with the football players.”

  “Yep. I was right there in the locker room, praying with them before the games. Got two free tickets on the fifty-yard line for every home game. Some of the players even came to me privately for counseling.”

  And I bet you counseled them, alright. “Did you ever meet Nathaniel Hall, one of the team’s star players?”

  “As a matter fact I did,” Reverend Sims said. “What a tragedy to be struck down in life with so much ahead of him.”

  After he described the kind of work he’d done at Raycom, J.C. asked if he knew Marcus Patterson, the slain engineer. “That’s not a name I remember, but it’s possible I may have—” He stopped talking.

  J.C. could tell by the spark of alarm in his eyes that Reverend Sims had just put the pieces together.

  “Detective Sparks, why are you asking me these questions?”

  “Because they’re relevant to my investigation.”

  “How?”

  “I’m not at liberty to divulge that right now.”

  His face turned angry.

  “Would you mind providing us with a set of your fingerprints?” J.C. asked.

  The reverend leaned over his desk. “Why would you need my prints?”

  “Eugene had a visitor the night of his murder. We have some fingerprints we took from his home. We’d like to exclude yours.”

  Beads of sweat lined his upper lip. “Are you telling me that I’m a suspect, Detective? I understand that there’s already somebody in custody for his murder.”

  “Is there some reason you don’t want to provide your prints? You never mentioned anything about being at Eugene’s home.”

  “I . . . I don’t have time to get down to the station to provide prints. I’m very busy here and I— ”

  J.C. pulled a small package from her jacket pocket. “I have an ink pad and fingerprint card right here. I can fingerprint you right now.”

  The reverend’s face went flush and he seemed unable to speak.

  “Are you okay, Reverend?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. I just . . . can you give me a second to go grab some water?”

  “Sure.”

  J.C. hoped the man wasn’t going to make a run for it. Just when she was about to think that maybe he had, the reverend returned to his desk. Without water.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea to give you my fingerprints. If you’re asking me to do that, you obviously think I’m a suspect. I had better get legal counsel. I have nothing more to say.”

  J.C. stood up and peered down at him, a move intended to intimidate. “Reverend, it’s been my experience that when someone lawyers up, it’s usually because they have something to hide.”

  “As I just said, I don’t have anything else to say, Detective.” He got to his feet.

  J.C. saw guilt in the man’s eyes.

  “Please leave my office.”

  Pumped with adrenalin, J.C. stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind her. The reverend’s evasiveness and his bold-faced lies moved him straight to the top of the prime suspects’ list. She wanted to bring him down to the station for further questioning right this minute, but she wasn’t about to make that move without Lieutenant Wilson’s okay. She flipped open her cell phone. Before she could dial his number, the phone rang. It was Detective Jessup.

  “I’ve got some good news,” he said. “We have a match on the prints we found on that wineglass.”

  “Are they Lamont’s?” J.C. asked anxiously.

  “Yep. But I don’t think he’s our killer.”

  “I agree.” She started to tell him about her interview with Reverend Sims, but decided to wait until after her call to the lieutenant. “What about the windowsill?”

  “Unfortunately for you, those belong to your buddy Special Moore.”

  J.C. wanted to cry. “I still don’t think she killed Eugene,” she said finally.

  “Neither do I. I think Lamont’s live-in lover, Ken, iced Nelson. Seems he’s been picked up a few times in Griffith Park for lewd and lascivious conduct.”

  “I don’t get the connection. That doesn’t make him a killer.”

  “Nope, it doesn’t. I only mentioned that to explain why we had his prints on file. We also found Ken’s prints on that windowsill. A few other places, too. We just brought him in and I’m about to start questioning him right now.”

  Chapter 109

  Vernetta had not expected to see J.C. stalking their way as she followed Nichelle into the vestibule of Ever Faithful.

  J.C. skidded to a stop when she spotted them. “What are you guys doing here?”

  Vernetta pointed at Nichelle. “She insisted on coming and I wasn’t about to let her do this by herself.”

  “Do what?”

  “She wants to talk to each of the ministers here. She thinks she’ll be able to find out if they had anything to do with Eugene’s murder.”

  “You can’t do that!” J.C. ushered them back outside. “You’d be interfering with a police investigation.”

  “I’m not going to interfere with your investigation,” Nichelle said snippily. “I’m representing my client. I have a right to interview anybody I want.”

  J.C. looked at Vernetta, then Nichelle. “You have to go home and leave this to the police. Trust me, Nichelle, I’m very close to solving this case. What you plan to do could blow it for me.”

  “I’m tired of waiting for the police to find the real killer while Special rots in jail. I’ll find him.” She marched back inside the church. “We all know he’s one of the ministers in this church.”

  J.C. jumped in front of Nichelle, blocking her path. “He may not be. In fact, I just got some information that points to another suspect. Two of them, in fact. So I need both of you to leave. Now.”

  “You’re just saying that to get us out of here.”

  “Nichelle, please don’t make me take out my handcuffs. Because if I have to, I will.”

  Vernetta watched as they stared each other down, neither of them willing to budge. She put her arm around Nichelle’s shoulder. “Let’s just leave and let J.C. handle things.”

  “Okay, okay,” Nichelle said stubbornly. “But I need to talk to Reverend Sims about something else. Special wants him to come down to the jail to counsel her. If he is the killer, I want him to look me in the eye knowing she’s about to go on trial for murders he committed.”

  “You can’t talk to Reverend Sims about anything,” J.C. said. “The police will be talking to him soon enough.”

  “So it is him!” Nichelle pressed her hands to both cheeks.

  “I didn’t say that,” J.C. said, glancing back over her shoulder. “And please keep your voice down.”

  “We’re leaving.” Vernetta grabbed Nichelle’s arm and tried to tug her toward the door, but she wouldn’t budge.

  “I won’t say anything about the case,” Nichelle promised. “I just want to see how the man reacts when I tell him Special wants him to come down to the jail and pray with her. I bet he—” Nichelle stared down the hallway.

  Vernetta looked back and saw Belynda stalking toward them.

  “Perhaps you forgot,” Belynda said, sarcastically, “but this is a church. I could hear you all the way at the other end of the building. What in the world is going on here?”

  “I need to talk to Reverend Sims,” Nichelle said.

  Belynda hoisted the strap of her purse higher on her shoulder. “Do you have an appointment?”

  “I don’t need one.”

  They heard footsteps and turned around. Reverend Sims walked over to them. He shot J.C. a panicky look. “What’s going on here, ladies?”

  Nichelle pursed her lips. “I need to speak with you, Reverend.”

  “No, she doesn’t,” J.C. said.

&n
bsp; The reverend’s eyes were moist and red. “Well, now is not a good time.”

  “When would be a good time?” Nichelle demanded.

  He looked at his watch. “The church secretary should be back from lunch shortly. You can check my schedule with her.”

  “This is extremely urgent. It won’t take long.”

  J.C. stepped in front of Nichelle. “Reverend, why don’t you go back to your office. I’ll handle this.”

  Nichelle would not relent. “No. I want to—”

  The reverend sighed heavily. “Perhaps we should discuss this in my office. ”

  J.C. shot Vernetta and Nichelle a burning look as they all followed him down the hall to his office.

  Reverend Sims closed the door, then stepped behind his desk as if he needed to use it as a bunker. Belynda valiantly stood next to him.

  “Would you like me to call the security guard, Reverend?” Belynda asked.

  “No, I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Will it?” He eyed Nichelle.

  “We know you killed Eugene,” Nichelle blurted out.

  “Nichelle!” J.C. and Vernetta screamed in unison.

  The reverend gave J.C. a hard look. “Detective, I can’t believe you’ve been spreading these vicious lies. I’m suing you and the LAPD for defamation!”

  J.C. took Nichelle by her left arm. Vernetta grabbed the other one. “You’re leaving. Now!” J.C. ordered.

  Vernetta tried to pull Nichelle toward the door. She managed to break free from Vernetta, but couldn’t shake off J.C.

  “The police Department restored that picture Special took the night before Eugene was murdered,” Nichelle bluffed. “It shows you in Eugene’s kitchen kissing him. We know you killed him!”

  The reverend’s eyes expanded, but not half as wide as Belynda’s. She took a dizzying step away from him and almost plowed into the wall.

  “How could you? You’re a man of God! What a disgrace!”

  “It’s not how it looks.” The reverend’s voice shook and he was close to tears. “Yes, I was at Eugene’s house that night, but nothing like that happened. And I didn’t kill him.”

  “You’re a liar!” Belynda screamed.

  “I had dinner with Eugene and later, at his house, he came on to me, but I pushed him away.” The reverend absently rubbed his hands together. “And that’s all that happened. I swear to God I didn’t kill him.”

  “You should burn in hell!” Belynda yelled. She shrank away from him and stepped closer to the door. “You knew Eugene was trying to turn his life around and you seduced him anyway! I knew you’d been up to no good. But I didn’t want to believe it.”

  “I swear I didn’t kill him!” the reverend cried.

  “What about this?” Belynda reached into her purse and took out the lapel pin. She held it toward J.C.

  “I found this in Eugene’s bedroom,” she said, weeping now. “I gave it to the reverend and he wore it all the time. It ended up in Eugene’s bedroom because the reverend was in Eugene’s bedroom.” She whipped around and faced Reverend Sims again. “Engaging in that perversion!”

  “Are you crazy? What are you talking about!”

  Belynda’s eyes were ablaze with condemnation. “Then tell me, Reverend, just how did this pin end up in Eugene’s bedroom?”

  “I have no idea,” the reverend whimpered.

  “I don’t believe you. You’re a sick, sick man!”

  “Everybody just calm down,” J.C. commanded. “I want everybody out of here, except for the reverend.”

  This time Nichelle willingly headed for the door. Belynda and Vernetta followed.

  J.C. pulled handcuffs from her back pocket. “Reverend Sims,” she said, “You’re under arrest for the murder of Eugene Nelson.”

  Chapter 110

  J.C. handcuffed Rev. Sims and forced him into one of the chairs in front of his desk.

  “Good Lord, please have mercy on me!” Reverend Sims sobbed. “This is going to kill my wife. I swear to God I didn’t kill Eugene!”

  “I need all of you to leave the building,” J.C. bellowed into the hallway where Vernetta, Nichelle, and Belynda stood staring into the office. “Right now!”

  J.C. turned her back to them, pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her jacket and dialed Lieutenant Wilson.

  “I’m coming in with a suspect,” she said breathlessly. “It’s Reverend Sims. He lied about not being at Eugene’s place and—”

  The lieutenant cut in. “You’re off base. Way off base. We already have the killer. Ken Landers, the boyfriend of Lamont Wiley.”

  “What? Are you sure?”

  J.C. stared over at Reverend Sims who continued to wail. She stepped into the hallway hoping the lieutenant couldn’t hear his sobs. Despite evicting them, Vernetta, Nichelle and Belynda still hadn’t left.

  “Ken caught Lamont cheating on him with Nelson and he wasn’t very happy about it. He admitted to breaking into the house through the kitchen window.”

  “So he admitted killing Eugene?”

  “No, not yet. But he will.” There was a cop’s assurance in his voice. “He claims there was a big confrontation and Eugene was alive when he and Lamont left. But he’s lying. We just picked Lamont up and we’re bringing him in now. So Reverend Sims ain’t our guy.”

  “But we can’t be sure just yet, Lieutenant. I think there could actually be two killers at work. Reverend Sims lied about being at Eugene’s place and—”

  “Do you have any idea what kind of backlash we’re going to get from the black community when they find out we arrested a minister from Ever Faithful? I’m not taking that heat. Not without some solid evidence.”

  J.C.’s mind was a jumble. “I think we should at least bring him in for questioning.”

  “No,” the lieutenant barked. “You don’t have nearly enough to bring him in.”

  “But Ken hasn’t confessed yet and maybe he won’t. What if you’re wrong? What if another man dies in the meantime?”

  Lieutenant Wilson didn’t answer. She could feel his uncertainty. “I’ll place him under 24-hour surveillance,” he said finally. “We’re not arresting him without more. Now get back to the station.” He hung up before she could say another word.

  J.C. stared at the phone before sliding it back into her pocket. She peered into the office at the still sobbing Reverend Sims. She finally walked over to him, bent down and removed the handcuffs.

  Belynda approached the open doorway. “You’re not arresting him?”

  “No,” J.C. said. “There’s another suspect already in custody.”

  “I told you!” the reverend cried out. “I had nothing to do with Eugene’s murder.”

  J.C. watched as he massaged his wrists. Something in her gut told her the lieutenant was wrong. Dead wrong. This man was a vicious killer.

  “You’re a sick, sick man!” Belynda shouted. She pulled a gun from her purse and pointed it in the direction of Reverend Sims and J.C.

  In a flash, J.C. snatched her own gun from its holster, and when she did, Belynda swung her weapon in the direction of Vernetta and Nichelle. “Drop your gun, Detective, or I’ll shoot both of them.”

  A frightened Reverend Sims stumbled backwards into a corner and slouched to the floor. “Belynda, please, please, put that gun away!”

  “Shut up,” Belynda screeched. “You deserve to die just like all those other perversions against God.”

  Vernetta and Nichelle were wrapped in each other’s arms now, too scared to even breathe.

  The crazed look in Belynda’s eyes told J.C. that the woman could easily pull the trigger. “Please put the gun down,” she said softly. J.C. kept her gun pointed at Belynda with one hand and her other raised, palm out, as if to keep her at bay. “There’s no reason for anybody to get hurt. Just put the gun down.”

  Belynda glared at J.C., but her gun remained pointed at Vernetta and Nichelle. “Drop your gun, Detective, or I’ll blow their heads off.”

  When J.C. failed to obey, Belynda
took a step backward, out of J.C.’s line of vision. She fired a warning shot at the ceiling, then turned her gun back on the cowering women.

  Vernetta and Nichelle screamed and collapsed into a clump on the floor.

  “I said give me your gun!” Belynda’s now-shrill voice reverberated down the hallway.

  Moving slowly, J.C. bent down, set her gun on the floor and pushed it out into the hallway with her foot. “Belynda, don’t do anything stupid. Nobody needs to get hurt.”

  J.C. moved into the hallway.

  “Get back!” Belynda shouted.

  J.C. stopped, but stayed planted just outside the open doorway. She was about five feet away from Belynda. “How did this happen, Belynda? So you killed all those men?”

  “They deserved to die. Every single one of them.”

  Belynda stared past J.C. “You’re lucky to be alive,” she said to the reverend. “If I had known for sure that you were having an affair with Eugene, I would’ve killed you, too.”

  “You’ve got it all wrong,” the reverend sputtered.

  “Shut up! You’re a liar!”

  “So you killed Eugene, too?” J.C. asked

  “Yes,” Belynda said proudly. “After Special came to my house that morning and tried to show me that picture, I went straight to Eugene’s place to tell him about it. When I got to the door I heard a man’s voice, but it wasn’t Eugene’s. I went around back and peered into the kitchen window. When I saw a man wearing nothing but a towel, I knew Eugene had broken his promise to me. And to God. But I had no idea the other man was Reverend Sims.”

  “But it wasn’t me!” the reverend cried.

  “Shut up, you liar!” Tears streamed down Belynda’s cheeks. “I went back home and prayed for the rest of the day. God ordered me to kill both of them. But by the time I got back to Eugene’s house, it was after midnight and he was alone.” She stared in disgust at the reverend. “All of you are sick, sick, sick.” Her hand shook so violently it seemed the gun might easily go off.

  “Belynda, please put the gun down.” J.C.’s voice was as serene as she could make it. “There’s no need to hurt anybody else. I understand how you feel.”