by Roy Glenn
Peppermint took the fifty. “Go ahead and ask what you wanna ask.” Placing it in her already over flowing garter.
“Do you know a man name Roland Ferguson?”
“Not that I can remember. But a lot of men say they know me. And I meet a lot of men up in here. After a while, they're all just faces with money in their pockets.” Peppermint said with a smile and Marcus smiled back.
Carmen dug around in her purse until she found a picture of Roland and Desireé. “Have you ever seen this man before?” she asked and handed Peppermint the picture.
Peppermint looked at the small picture closely in the dim light of the club. “Rollie! That's Rollie.”
“So you do know this man,” Marcus said pointing at the picture.
“Yeah, I know him,” Peppermint said handing the picture back to Carmen.
“But you never heard of Roland Ferguson?”
“Why? Should I?”
“Never seen him on television or read anything about him in the papers?” Carmen asked glancing at Marcus with a smile.
“Honey, I don't have time to sat down and watch television, much less read the paper.”
“How do you know Rollie?” Marcus asked
“I've danced for him a few times.”
“Anything else?” Carmen inquired.
“No honey, nothing else,” Peppermint said with a bit of a bite. “Alotta these ho's up in here sellin' pussy, but I ain't one of them. Beside, that wasn't Rollie's thing. He just liked to watch me dance. Never even tried to touch me. But he damn sure paid good.”
“Okay.” Said a dejected Carmen.
“But I did do him a favor once.”
“What was that?” Carmen asked excitedly.
“Rollie called me one night and asked me to meet him at The Underground.”
“What did he want?” Marcus asked.
“He asked me to drive his car home.”
“Why?” Carmen asked.
“He didn't say and I really didn't care. He gave me five hundred dollars.”
“Just to drive his car?” Carmen said in disbelief.
“No, he wanted me to go in the house, call some number and leave the long ass message he recorded on my phone. Oh yeah, he was runnin' on E, so he gave me his credit card to get gas.”
“When was this?” Marcus asked.
“About a year ago.”
“Were you still in the house when Rollie got there?”
“Nope. After the recording was finished I left.”
“Did anybody see you?”
“I don't think so.” Peppermint frowned. “Why y'all wanna know all this about Rollie?”
“Because the mutha fucka killed my sister that night.” Carmen got up from the table and headed for the door.
Marcus stood up, “Carmen wait!” he yelled.
“Did I hear her right? Rollie killed her sister? I don't believe that.”
“Neither did a jury. Thank you for your help Ms. Dent,” Marcus said and ran out the club after Carmen.
When Marcus reached the car, Carmen was there waiting for him. “I knew he did it. I just knew it, Marcus! But he's gonna pay. That mutha fuckas gonna pay!”
Marcus unlocked Carmen's door and she got in, still mumbling, He's gonna pay. Once he was in the car, Marcus turned to Carmen. “Have you ever heard of double jeopardy?”
“Yes.”
“Then you understand that under the law he can't be tried again for that crime.”
“What! You mean he's gonna get away with it?”
“Not really, since he owns Hudson Financial; that makes him a co-conspirator in money laundering and all the murders.”
“Yeah, well, suppose he can prove that he had no knowledge of anything about that? What happens then? Suppose he gets another smart lawyer like you? What happens then? He walks away free.”
Marcus had no answer. He simply started up the car and backed out of the space.
“What are you gonna do now?” Carmen asked.
“I'll call Agent Ward and DeBreeze in the morning and make them aware of what we've found out.”
“Take me to his house.” Carmen demanded.
“Why Carmen?”
“I need to ask him why. For my own peace of mind, I need to look him in the eye and hear him tell me why he killed Dez.”
“I don't think confronting Roland is the best idea.”
“Fine,” Carmen pouted. “Drop me off at the corner. I'll go by myself.”
“You're determined to do this, aren't you?”
“Yes, Marcus.” Carmen pleaded. “I thought you knew how important this is to me. Especially after I read how Dez was crying out for my help.”
“I do.”
“I thought since you'd been through this yourself that you would understand why I have to do this.”
“I do, Carmen. I'll go with you.”
“I have to do this, Marcus. And if you won't go with me, I'll go alone!”
“Carmen!” Marcus said loud enough to get her attention. “I'll go with you.”
“Thank you, Marcus.” Carmen smiled to herself.
During the remainder of the drive to the Ferguson residence, Carmen said nothing. She just stared aimlessly out the window, trying to decide what she was going to do when she saw Roland. Carmen felt the weight of the gun in her purse, as it rested on her lap. The words, Double Jeopardy, rang like bells in her mind. Could she; would she kill him?
Marcus rolled into the driveway and stopped in front of the house. He turned off the lights and looked over at Carmen. “Are you sure you want to do this.”
“I'm sure I have too.”
Marcus shut off the engine and got out of the car. He came around to open the door for Carmen, but she was already out of the car and heading for the house. Marcus ran to catch up with her and they walked hand in hand to the door. Carmen took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. Some time passed before Melissa opened the door. She led Marcus and Carmen to the study and told them to go on in. Roland looked up when the door to his study opened and an angry looking Carmen walked in with Marcus close behind.
She now knew what she was going to do.
When Roland saw who it was, he smiled. “Carmen! And Marcus! Come in, come in. I was just about to have a drink. Won't you join me?”
“Thank you Roland,” Marcus said and Carmen cut her fiery eyes at him. “We'd be glad too.”
Roland stepped to his bar. “Bacardi, isn't it, Carmen? And Hennessy for the gentleman.” He said gladly as he poured their drinks. Carmen sat down in one of the chairs in front of Roland's desk and opened her purse. She slowly and carefully moved her gun to the top. Marcus handed Carmen the glass and sat down in the chair next to her. Once Roland finished pouring his drink, he sat down behind the desk. “So what brings you two out tonight?”
“You—” Carmen started, but Marcus cut her off quickly.
“You know that we've been investigating your wife's murder and we've found out some disturbing information. And before we went any further I felt it necessary to ask you about it.”
Carmen rolled her eyes.
“Disturbing? I don't like the sound of that.” Roland laughed. “By all means, Marcus, go ahead.”
“Our investigation has led us to several other murders.”
“Other murders?”
“Yes, Frank and Suzanne Collins, two executives at Hudson Financial, and an FTC investigator.”
“What could any of that possibly have to do with me? Or Desireé's murder?”
“We have documented evidence of money laundering at Hudson Financial and those murders seem to be associated with them. My sources tell me that you head the investment group that owns Hudson Financial.”
“Yes, that's true. But my group are merely investors. We have no involvement in the operation of the company. Bill Hudson handles all that. But I'm glad you made me aware of these things before it became public knowledge. That will drive the stock holders crazy.”
Carmen glared at Mar
cus. “This is getting no where!”
“Carmen,” Marcus pleaded.
“No, Marcus. I told you he would do this,” Carmen took her gun out of her purse and pointed it at Roland. “We know you did it.”
“Put the gun down, Carmen,” Marcus said holding his hand out. “We don't need to do this.”
“It's alright, Marcus,” Roland said calmly. “You know I did what, Carmen?”
“I know you killed Desireé.”
“What are you talking about, Carmen? I couldn't have—”
“We talked to Paula Dent,” Marcus said. “We know she was driving your car. We know that she was the one at your house that night.”
Roland looked coolly at Marcus, then at Carmen. Then back to Marcus.
“I always knew you were a good lawyer. Smart. Had integrity. That's why I chose you. Somebody that judge, jury, and the press would believe when he said I wasn't guilty,” Roland said as he glanced at Carmen. “There's no need for the gun now, Carmen. I won't give you any trouble.”
“Why'd you kill her?” Carmen demanded. “We read her letter. She wanted a divorce. Was it money?” She spit out. “Did you kill her for money?”
“Nothing so crude. I loved Desireé. I would have given her anything. Yes, Desireé wanted a divorce. We talked about it the night before—” Roland said. Unable to say, 'I killed her.' “I told her that I didn't want a divorce. I told her that we could work it out. That I would stop,” he paused and looked away. “Stop making her do those things for me. It wasn't a problem for her. Not at first, anyway. She seemed to enjoy it. Until she met that low-life Rasheed. She thought she loved him. That night she told me again that she wanted a divorce, but this time she said that if I didn't give her a divorce, that she would see me in jail. She said she had talked to Frank Collins. He told her that Bill Hudson had Suzanne killed. She knew that my group controlled Hudson Financial.”
“So, you decided to kill her.”
“No. I was going to give her what she wanted. I had just told her that when Melissa came into the room. She told me that somebody was at the door and she thought that I might want to see him alone. She always was very protective of Desireé, ever since they—”
“Melissa and Dez were - - -?” Carmen asked, eyes wide opened.
Roland nodded his head. “Melissa used to bathe Desireé and give her hot oil massages afterwards. That’s where it began, she was Desireé's first.”
“Who was at the door?” Marcus asked, trying to keep the conversation on task.
“It was James Martin. I'm sure by now you know who he is. Martin told us that Rasheed Damali worked for him and what and whom he was doing it with. He said Damali owed him money for cocaine and he wanted Desireé to tell him where to find him. Naturally Desireé was very upset when she found out the truth about what Damali was doing. Having relations with men and such.” Roland said nonchalantly. “Martin believed her when she told him that she had no idea where he was. So after I gave him the money he was owed, he left quietly, but Desireé was still fit to be tied. She felt, quite naturally, that he should have told her what he was doing. So much potential for aids. So as you can imagine, Desireé was furious. I told her that I would handle it. She wanted to know what I was going to do, but I told her not to worry. That I would take care of everything.”
“So you got Paula Dent to drive your car, get gas with your credit card and call Connie Talbert from your house to establish your alibi.” Marcus said.
“Yes.”
“Why did you kill Desireé?” Carmen asked angrily, her hand weary from the weight of the gun.
“I asked Desireé when she was going to see him again? She told me that they planned to meet that next night. I told her to arrange to meet him at Laurel Mountain. After I met Paula I drove my other car out there. When I got there Damali opened the door. I came in carrying the club, but he didn't notice. He was naked, he didn't even bother to cover himself. And why should he. I'd seen him that way before. He assumed I was there to watch. Desireé was just getting in the Jacuzzi. She began shouting at Damali, saying that he lied to her, used her. She screamed that he put her life in jeopardy.
Fuckin' men for money. Fuckin' men! How could you do that to me? Roland recalled.
“By that time Damali saw the club in my hand. He started to back away from me, reaching for his pants. But it was too late for that. I raised the club and swung it at him. I hit him, with it over and over. The whole time I was watching Desireé. Seeing the look in her eyes. Seeing how she was enjoying watching me beat a man to death for her. I looked at her knowing that I had to kill her, too. She already knew I was involved in everything going on at Hudson Financial. She already swore to see me in jail for it. Knowing that I killed Damali would have given her too much power, to much control over me. I couldn't allow that to happen.”
Marcus looked at Carmen, her hand shaking as she pointed the gun at Roland. Tears flowed from her eyes.
“What happens now, Marcus.”
Marcus started to speak, “You'll have to—” but was startled by the sound of a gun firing three times.
Marcus looked quickly at Carmen and just as quickly at Roland. He had been hit three times in the chest. His now lifeless body slumped over in the chair.
“Now, you just hand me the piece, pretty lady,” a voice came from behind them.
Marcus and Carmen turned and looked in the direction of the voice. Bill Hudson stood behind them. He pointed his gun at Marcus, pressing the barrel against his temple. “I said, hand me that piece. I ain't gonna ask you again.”
Carmen slowly placed her gun into Hudson's outstretched hand.
“That’s a smart girl.” Hudson looked at Roland. “Fool! You always were a fool, Roland,” he said as he came around the desk. He looked at Marcus and Carmen, shaking his head. “And you Marcus. You know that the DEA and the FBI are camped outside my house? Probably in there right now, tearing up my house. Then I come over here and find this fool spilling his guts to you two.” He glanced over at Roland again. “Now look at you, Roland. Dead. Dead because you're a fool! Real shame too, Marcus, because Roland Ferguson was the smartest man I ever met. But he was a fool. A fool for these women. That's why we're here. Men being fools for these women.”
Keeping his gun trained on Marcus and Carmen, Hudson jerked the chair and Roland's body fell to the floor. He sat down in the chair.
“Fools, damn fools. Weak for these women. So now, what I'm I going to do with you two? And shit, you Marcus, damn it. Why couldn't you just let things lay where they were? You coulda been well on your way to being the next DA in this town. But no! You had to push it, had to involve Mondrya in this shit. She was a pretty young thing when she came to work for me. I watched her grow into a fine woman, smart as a whip, too. Now she’s dead because of you. Why? Shit I know why. Because you’re a fool for her!” Hudson shouted, and then he laughed a little. “But shit, pretty as she is though, I mighta had to be her fool too. Frank Collins was a fool. Let Suzanne bluff him into tellin' her where the money came from in those off shore accounts.”
“So you killed Suzanne,” Marcus said. “Raped and beat her to death.”
“That's where you'd be wrong. I didn't have to rape Suzanne, the slut wanted it. But what does good old Frank do? Instead of falling back in line like a good boy, he starts playing footsy with the DEA. Then he fucks around and tells Desireé everything. That set Roland off. I tried to tell Roland not to worry, that I would handle it. But what does the fool do? He goes off and beats her and that limp dick dope fiend to death. When all he had to do was wait a day or two and his problem would have taken care of itself.”
“You punctured the brake line on Desireé's car?” Marcus asked.
“Who did it isn't as important as the fact that it was done and that woulda finished it. But since the brakes didn't finish you two, you have to be dealt with,” Hudson said picking up the phone. He dialed a number. “Let me speak to Benjamin.”
“Detective Benjamin is cur
rently unavailable. Who is this?”
Hudson quickly hung up the phone. “Shit!”
“I guess you can't count on Benjamin to handle your light work,” Marcus said smugly.
“Guess I can't.”
“How'd you get your hooks into Benjamin?” Marcus asked.
“That was Roland's doing. About fifteen years ago. Benjamin had a fire at his house and that fire claimed the life of his wife, and the fire and his wife being in there wasn't no accident. But you see, Roland being the smart man that he was, found out from the investigator that it was arson. So when Benjamin filed a claim, Roland paid it, but let him know that he knew that he set the fire to cover the murder and tucked Benjamin away neatly in his back pocket. So now Roland had him a cop and me, I had me a prosecutor.”
“Izella Hawkins.”
Hudson nodded. “So when Benjamin came to Roland with this money laundering thing, we were all set. All the piece was put in place. We had us a good ten year run. Until these grown men started getting foolish over these women. Because of the trouble since the world began. I always thought that Roland was smarter then that.” Hudson shook his head glancing down at Roland. “So now what I'm I gonna do with you two?”
“You don't have to kill us,” Carmen said quietly.
“Yes I do, pretty lady. That dog won't hunt, and I'll tell you why. That damn disk you gave to the fuckin' FBI.” Hudson sat quietly, thinking about what he was going to do with Marcus and Carmen. Then he smiled at them and started to laugh out loud.
“What's so funny?” Marcus asked.
“Well here's how this is gonna play out. The police are gonna find Roland dead. It seems pretty lady here found out that he really did kill her sister and came over here to kill him. Then you two love birds are going to disappear.”
“Any reason why the police won't think that you killed him?”
“Because I'm in Puerto Rico, as we speak. I'll let the Puerto Rican police arrest me tomorrow and extradite me back here where I'll swear that I had no knowledge of what Roland was doing. Collins was his boy and so was Benjamin. I never had any direct contact with Benjamin, he always thought he was getting his orders from Roland. So you see, I'll get me a smart lawyer like Marcus here and I'll be out on bail by lunch time. And cleared of any charges in no time.” Hudson stood up. “Now if you don't mind, let's all go quietly to your car.”