What Simon Didn’t Say

by Joy Copeland

  “Tomorrow afternoon. First, I need to see my grandmother. And I need to find a sitter for my daughter. Otherwise, she’ll have to come with me to the station.”

  “Okay, call me when you’re done with that. I’ll arrange to meet you at the Fifth District station. Remember, though, this is not my case.”

  “So do you really need to be there?”

  “Why, Zoie, it sounds as if you don’t want me there.” Charles laughed. “But you’re right. I don’t need to be there. I’m just an intermediary…unless they want to pull me in on the drug stuff. I want to be there. I promised those guys over at Fifth District I’d deliver you for the statement. You see I’m living up to my commitment.”

  “Touché.”

  “Don’t worry. The Fifth District guys aren’t after you. They’ve had time to do some checking on your story. Remember they have your laptop. And by the way, the thug who was in on Maynard’s beating, a Somalian by the name of Asad, was picked up in Queens, along with another thug. They were driving the Shelter’s van, just as you said, and had a load of khat. So thanks for that tip.”

  “Glad to be of help. And what about Tarik? Is he still locked up?”

  “Surely he won’t be allowed bail until his arraignment…if then.”

  “And what about Jahi?”

  “You mean the dude who’s running for city council? He ain’t going down anytime soon.”

  “Why not?”

  “Now, Zoie, we talked about this. You’re the attorney. So far there’s no evidence connecting him to anything criminal. Other than the fact that their operation was going on right under his nose and that he’s got to be one stupid dude not to have known about it.”

  “Pretty unbelievable, huh?”

  “Yeah, flakey for sure. But as I’ve told you, those guys at the Fifth District have known Khalfani for years. If he were just a regular street dude, things would go differently. Right now, in the eyes of the Fifth District, he’s one of the good guys until proven otherwise. Perhaps your statement will be the thing that helps to prove otherwise.”

  “And what of Maynard? The man that was assaulted?” Zoie asked with her hand pressed against her forehead.

  “As far as I know, he’s still at Washington Hospital and in a critical condition.”

  “Huh…”

  As to Jahi’s innocence, Zoie didn’t know whether her statement would prove otherwise. Over the past days, she assumed that Jahi was involved and pegged him as the ringleader, the one behind it all. She assumed it all without hard evidence. Her undercover operation hadn’t found the information on Mahali’s grant fraud that she had been after originally. Instead, she’d uncovered the drug business. Perhaps Maynard knew something else. But would anyone ever believe his insane banter? She could go no further. It was up to the police and ultimately the DA. Once the police investigated the Shelter’s financial misdealing, surely the trail would lead to Jahi.

  That night Zoie curled up next to Nikki. Thoughts of her missing child and Elliot’s resurrection left little brain space for thoughts about the Shelter, Ray Gaddis, or Jahi Khalfani. Tomorrow those things would again be all-consuming. Now she was so tired. With Nikki by her side, safe in Tina’s apartment, she could finally sleep. She hoped she would dream of nothing.

  The next morning, after walking the puppy and running a few errands for groceries and getting more puppy supplies, Zoie and Nikki drove over to Queen’s house, in Northeast. They found Frances Woods sitting on Queen’s sun porch, at the back of the house. With her feet up, reading the newspaper, she looked very comfortable. There was color in her cheeks, and her walker was nearby. Overall she seemed less frail.

  “Zo! I was wondering why I hadn’t heard from you,” her grandmother said. “Hey, Nikki! Sweetie, did you have a good time at your grandparents’ house?”

  “Yeah,” answered Nikki, moving close and instantly warming to the great-grandmother she hadn’t seen all summer. “Did you know, Great Gram, that I have a puppy now? I was going to bring him with me to show you, but Mommy said I had to leave him at Aunt Tina’s house.”

  “Aunt Tina’s house?”

  “Long story,” Zoie said. “Anyway, I wasn’t sure if Queen allowed dogs in her house.”

  “Baby, give your great-grandmother a big hug.”

  The child complied and then plopped into the wicker rocking chair on the other side of the room and proceeded to put the chair in motion.

  “About your puppy, your mommy told you right. I don’t know if Queen likes dogs. Not everybody likes dogs.”

  “I wish everybody liked dogs,” Nikki said with a frown.

  “Zo, why are you looking so down?”

  “As I said, it’s a long story,” Zoie answered.

  “I got plenty of time to listen. As you can see, I’m not going anywhere.”

  Queen entered the room, carrying a pitcher of iced tea and several glasses. There was also a small glass of lemonade. “Do you like lemonade, little one?” Queen asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Nikki said as her legs swung scissor fashion in anticipation of the sugary drink.

  “Zoie, is the lemonade okay for her,” Queen asked. “It’s freshly squeezed.”

  “Yes. Thanks, Queen.” Zoie turned to her daughter. “Nikki, this counts as your juice today, okay?”

  “But Grandma Celeste lets me have…”

  “Nikki, you’re home now. So we go by my rules,” Zoie said quickly.

  “We’re not actually home,” the child said in defiance.

  Zoie gave Nikki a fierce look, and the little girl wisely changed the subject. “Queen, do you like dogs?”

  “Oh, yes, I love dogs. Been thinking about gettin’ one myself.”

  “Queen, can I bring my new puppy over to see Great Gram?”

  Queen was a little surprised. “Well, I guess,” she answered. “If your mom thinks it’s okay.”

  “We’ll see,” Zoie said.

  Frances Woods laughed. She leaned over and whispered, “Zo, your daughter’s going to give you a run for your money. She reminds me of you when you were that age.”

  “Now, Nikki, if you ask me about cats, I got to say that cats be a whole different t’ing,” Queen said.

  “Yeah, cats be a whole different t’ing,” repeated Nikki, mimicking Queen’s Jamaican accent to perfection. “Queen, what does ‘whole different t’ing’ mean?”

  “You want to come help me make chocolate cookies?” Queen asked Nikki. “Then I’ll tell you all about them cats. Them mysterious cats.”

  “Oh, can I, Mommy?” Nikki asked, excited about chocolate cookies and hearing a juicy cat tale.

  “Sure,” Zoie answered, winking at Queen.

  Nikki followed Queen from the porch.

  “Now, Zo, tell me what’s going on,” Frances Woods said. She put the newspaper aside and directed her attention to her granddaughter.

  “Oh, Grandma, where do I start?”

  “When I saw you the other day, you were trying to solve some mystery. I think it had to do with that guy you were seeing. Ja something or other,” she said, waving her hand dismissively.

  “Well, Grandma, I solved part of a mystery. It has to do with a drug ring being run out of the homeless shelter.”

  “My Lord! I read something about a drug bust at a homeless shelter in the paper yesterday.”

  “So it did make the press…well, those same thugs broke in to my apartment.”

  Frances Woods gasped and clutched the arms of her chair.

  “Grandma, don’t worry. I wasn’t there when it happened. Thank God. But I don’t feel comfortable staying there. Anyway, we can’t have a dog. So for now I’m staying at Tina’s place. She’s down in Florida.”

  “Sorry you couldn’t stay at my house. Queen’s brother is working on getting things back in order. But I might have to stay here another couple of weeks.”

  “How’s it going here?” Zoie asked, looking about the sunny room.

  “Whew! You told me so much; now my nerves
need to settle. Well, Queen’s doing the best she can. Her brother lives here, and her nephew is in and out. It’s a little tight. I’m paying her extra for being put out like this. I know she wishes she were back on Brandywine with more space.”

  “I need to go to the police precinct to give my statement about the whole thing. Do you think Queen would watch Nikki until I get back?”

  “I don’t know. You’ve got to make your own deal with her. Those two do seem to get along.”

  “They do.”

  “So tell me how you snagged those guys.”

  Zoie didn’t want to get into the details of her undercover operation or to mention Ray Gaddis’s murder. “Grandma, it’s a long and complicated story. But one thing I can tell you is that I know those thugs set the fire at your house. They did it to threaten me.”

  Frances Woods put her hand to her mouth.

  “Oh. Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this.”

  “No, you need to tell me. No, I have to know!”

  Zoie sighed. “Okay, I went to Ohio.”

  “Yeah, you went to bring Nikki home.”

  “No, I went there because Nikki was missing.”

  “Missing! Oh, God. She looks okay.”

  “You’re right. She’s good. She ran away. She was mad that I wasn’t going to let her bring that puppy home.”

  “Oh! But you found her. The police found her?”

  “Actually Elliot found her,” Zoie explained.

  “Zoie, I’m truly confused. You’re talking Elliot. Elliot, the father who doesn’t want to be a father?”

  “Yes, that Elliot,” Zoie said, lowering her voice. She looked around to make sure that Nikki was nowhere close. “The very one who didn’t want anything to do with her.”

  Frances Woods’s lips were tight. “From your tone I take it he does now.”

  Zoie sighed deeply. “He wants to be forgiven so that he can be a part of her life.”

  “Oh. You did mention he’d been to see her at his parents’ place earlier this summer. You said he was married and had a new baby on the way.”

  “He’s into being a father for the baby yet to be born. And suddenly he wants to be a father to my daughter as well,” Zoie said disgustedly. “Go figure.”

  “Is his wife a white girl?”

  “Actually, no. Guess he’s into chocolate, whether light or dark.”

  “At least the boy’s consistent. Lord, Lord,” Frances Woods said, shaking her head.

  “Grandma, I’m tired of men. Men leaving. Being left by men. Men lying. What is it with men? First, my father. Then Elliot. The latest is Jahi. I don’t know what his problem is. I’m just glad our relationship didn’t go any further. He’s a crook.”

  “Well, Zo, you sure can pick ’em.”

  Zoie buried her face in her hands.

  “Zo, I’m so sorry you’re going through this. I hate to see you hurting.” She rubbed Zoie’s arm with her arthritic hand. “That Elliot’s got some nerve. You know what Ida calls him—Elliot the Idiot.”

  “Ida’s got it right,” Zoie said with a weepy half smile.

  “It’s tough for us women, even if we’re the stronger of the sexes. But as far as men go, I also know they’re not all like those fools. It’s not fair to condemn them all.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Why look at your grandfather. He was a hardworking and loyal husband and father. He loved your mother and me to death. And I miss him.”

  “I think men like Grandpa are rare. Seems to me that men walk away a lot and that we women get left a lot. I still think it wasn’t the cancer that got Mom. It was her broken heart.”

  “Zo, I hate to see you so down on the whole male gender. Women can be fools too.” She took the deepest breath that she could and then coughed hard. “Sometimes it’s the women who walk away…as I did.”

  “Grandma, what are you talking about?”

  Tears welled in Frances Woods’s eyes. “You know, Zo, that I’ve got my long stories too. I guess with your being my closest relative and old enough to hear it”—she paused to gasp for air—“that one day I’m going to have to explain myself to you. Got to do it before I die. I owe it to you.”

  “Grandma, don’t talk like that,” Zoie said, rubbing her grandmother’s shoulder.

  Frances Woods put a fist to her mouth and started to hack. When the hacking wouldn’t stop, Zoie called Queen to bring her special cough remedy: hot water with turmeric, cinnamon, lemon juice, and honey.

  Through the hacking Frances Woods looked up and saw the panic in her granddaughter’s eyes. She didn’t have enough breath to tell her story. Her secret would have to wait.

  Chapter 50

  Do You Know Who Your Friends Are?

  When Frances Woods’s coughing spell finally ceased, she was exhausted. The hacking had taken its toll. She was damp with perspiration; her arms were limp, and her eyes were dim. The secret she’d protected for so many years and now wanted to share with Zoie would have to wait. Wait until she could gather enough breath to string together more than ten words. Wait until she could answer all the questions that would follow. Wait until she could again find the courage to tell her tale.

  Zoie, helpless to do anything, watched her grandmother’s coughing episode. Thank God for Queen, who ably handled things. Nikki came running from the kitchen, clearly upset. She latched on to her mother’s waist, her head pressing under Zoie’s bosom. “Mommy, what’s happening to Great Gram? Is she going to die?”

  “No, baby,” Zoie told her, trying to console her child, though she had her own fears. “Great Gram will be better when the medicine starts to work.”

  Queen took Frances Woods into the back room, which had become the older woman’s temporary bedroom. When Queen returned to the porch, Zoie sent Nikki back to the kitchen to check on the cookie mix. Zoie had plenty of questions for Queen. According to Queen, her grandmother’s coughing spells were the results of a brutal bronchitis. By all accounts she was on the mend. “The doctor says the cough is gonna stick around for a while. I can tell it’s lessening.”

  Still, Zoie was not convinced.

  “You think your grandmother is gonna keel over right in front of your eyes,” Queen said. “But I can tell that ain’t gonna happen.”

  “What makes you so sure?” Zoie asked.

  “Has she passed on her jewelry to you?”

  “No.”

  “When people are about to leave this world, they pass on their precious things. Frances Woods ain’t about to give away any of her good things. Ha! She ain’t goin’ nowhere anytime soon.”

  Zoie wondered what it was that her grandmother had been about to tell her. The secret that Frances Woods had been harboring sounded ominous. Zoie knew that old people kept secrets. Decades ago society shamed folks so badly that people hid their indiscretions, things that by today’s standards wouldn’t be considered scandal worthy. With her grandmother’s health the way it was, Zoie wouldn’t prod. It was clear that Frances Woods had a desperate need to get something off her chest. Alas, her chest wouldn’t cooperate.

  Zoie had to go to the Fifth District station to meet Detective Charles Bender and tell her own secrets. She made arrangements with Queen to take care of Nikki while she was gone. In the absence of the puppy, Nikki had bonded with Queen.

  Zoie called Detective Bender. “Charles, I’m ready.”

  “Okay,” Charles said, sounding enthusiastic. “ I’m going to call to make sure that the detective in charge of this case is around. The Fifth District is on Bladensburg Road. Do you have a way to get there? Or should I pick you up?”

  “I have a car. I should be there in the next thirty minutes.”

  Charles took on a serious tone. “Zoie, I advise you to tell them everything. You’ve been holding back.”

  “Charles, you don’t know the half of it. I’ve had to weigh what I could tell without endangering my family.”

  “I understand. But hopefully you needn’t fear that now. Get the whole st
ory out. They’ve rounded up a few more runners connected with the drug operation. The more you tell them, the faster they can get the rest.”

  Following Charles’s advice to tell all wasn’t going to be easy. Earlier that morning, before Nikki woke, Zoie jotted down the key points she wanted to tell them, just in case the police failed to ask the right questions. As she drove past the Shelter, she couldn’t help but wonder if Jahi were somewhere inside. He must be brooding, she thought. He’s probably still conspiring with Sister Te to cover their tracks. If he ended up facing criminal charges, could he continue running for the city council? She laughed to herself. What made him different than some others on the council? But then she couldn’t remember any council member linked to a murder.

  The police station in the Fifth District was a busy place. Charles was waiting near the station’s entrance, chatting with a much shorter man.

  “Zoie Taylor, this is Detective Ross. He’s the lead on the assault case and the drug bust.”

  Zoie and Ross shook hands.

  “I’ve heard a bunch about you,” Ross said with a slight smile. He was balding and had a paunch and the pallor of someone who’d spent the summer indoors. The sparkle in his pale-blue eyes made him look compassionate and likable. “I understand you’re an attorney and you actually witnessed the assault on the homeless man.”

  “More like attempted murder,” Zoie said.

  “Well, we’ll have to leave the particulars about the charges to the US attorney. Perhaps what you tell us today will help make the case for the more serious charge.”

  “Okay,” Zoie said, understanding that she’d have to leave lawyering on the back burner.

  “And you also witnessed the drug dealings?”

  “Not the sale exactly, but I overheard their plans for the khat. And you may have to add a homicide to your case. But I guess that would be the Montgomery County folks,” Zoie said.

  Detective Ross seemed skeptical. He looked to Detective Bender and then turned back to Zoie. “Well, let’s get going.”

  Zoie’s statement lasted three hours, with a couple of coffee breaks. It took place in a sterile conference room with cinder-block walls and bunker-style slot windows near the ceiling. Zoie sat with Ross and a younger detective named Erkhard, who asked few questions and essentially operated the recorder. Out of professional courtesy, Ross allowed Charles Bender to sit in on the questioning. Well aware that this was not his case and that he was outside his district, Charles remained silent.