SUFFER WITH ME

by ROBERT LABOO

  CHAPTER 20

  The dingy building looms over Detective Adams as she stares up at it. It stands just pass the intersection of Washington Street and W. Kinney Streets, on the W. Kinney side. Across from it is the 440 Washington Street Apartments. This area is a drug addict’s paradise. Every strain of drugs can be found here, ranging from Viagra to Heroin. Another addiction brings Suffiyah here though. As she climbs the stairs and presses the intercom to be buzzed, the door is flung open forcefully. A shabby looking couple barrels through, arguing and brushes right pass her as if she doesn’t exist, never breaking their stride. The wind created from the door carries the pungent smell of urine and body odor, causing her to scrunch her nose. The door jamb is blocked with all types of foreign objects, enabling anyone to come in unannounced. Taking this as a sign, she proceeds inside. The smell intensifies once the door closes behind her.

  Boom! WOOF! WOOF!

  She jumps at the sound of a large dog slamming into one of the apartment doors. Dogs terrify her, even poodles. This one though, sounds like a monster. In her mind she pictures a cross breed of a Pit-bull and a real bull. Fear that its owner might open the door causes her to scurry up three flights of stairs hastily. Her destination is in the front of her behind a once beige door, which is now several variations of browns. KNOCK! KNOCK! A TV can be heard in the background but no answer. KNOCK! KNOCK!

  “Yoo! What the fuck!” comes the voice from inside of the apartment.

  “Who the fuck is it?”

  “Ranesha, its Detective Adams. May I come in for a moment?”

  After what seems like an eternity, the door finally swings open. Suffiyah sees a naked woman walking away from the door and she enters. The living room wouldn’t make a home designer magazine but it’s tidier than she expected. The young woman lays back on the couch and lights up a Newport 100.

  “You want me to step out so you can get dressed?” Suffiyah asks. The woman cocks her legs and gets comfortable, further exposing herself.

  “No, I’m cool,” she replies. “Ranee—”

  “S-T-O-R-M. You call me Ranesha like we fly. You don’t know me. We ain’t that! So miss me with that Ranesha shit!”

  Feeling herself getting aggravated, Suffiyah breathes deeply before continuing. “Storm, I need help finding Aaliyah’s killer. So many pieces are missing that I don’t understand and I need to in order to bring this man to justice.”

  Storm looks her up and down and then down and up. Making sure she is looking Suffiyah directly in the eyes before replying, “You don’t think you too cute for all this police shit?” But she pronounced it like po-lease.

  “No. I never knew it was a beauty standard for the job.”

  “Well. Storm smacks her lips loudly. “Have you ever been tasted by a girl before?”

  “Been what?”

  Storm shakes her head annoyed

  “Have you ever let a bitch eat your pussy? Is that clear enough?”

  “No! Where did that come from?”

  “I been up all night rollin’ off these mollies and I’m horny. I could see your coochie print through ya workpants and I wanna kiss it. That’s that,” she says with the ease which with someone asks for a piece of candy.

  “No thank you,” Suffiyah says while allowing her hand to cover her private area.

  “Well, I guess we don’t have nothing for each other then. Lock my door when you leave, Miss?” Storm says as she starts to massage her own private area. Suffiyah looks on in disgust before turning to leave.

  “Umm, ass fat too.” Suffiyah slams the door to Storms laughter.

  Detective Adams couldn’t have been in the building for more than ten minutes at the most. The man thinks as he watches her start her car up. He watches through his driver’s side mirror and waits until she turns the corner to perform a u-turn. In a matter of seconds he’s parking in the spot Suffiyah just vacated. Adrenaline pulses through his body at the thought of his brass movement. Every move made thus far has been premeditated. This plan differs in the sense that it is all improvised. His hands begin to perspire as he knocks at the apartment door. Everything is happening so fast. It’s as if he transported himself from the car to the third floor of this building. Nervousness sets in as he realizes he doesn’t know what he’s going to say when she asks “Who is it?” He doesn’t want the neighbors overhearing him. As his mind races, he can clearly hear her approaching steps. His mouth dries out as he prepares to respond. Surprisingly, the door swings open. He’s greeted by the rear view of a nude body retreating further into the apartment. Her hips sway in a hypnotizing manner as she pushes her fingers through her hair.

  “I knew you would be back. Go in the living room and lose those pants. I bet you won’t be coming here to question me next time. This tongue is heaven, Detective Adams. You ready to be an Angel or naw?”

  Dr. O’Malley’s office has become a sanctuary of sorts or better a war room. Suffiyah’s brain seems to function at a higher frequency with the assistance of Dr. O’Malley. The puzzle pieces come together more clearly in here.

  “Okay. So the Tyler Scott angle isn’t written off but it needs more digging. I’ve been thinking, maybe we have to go back further, because we’re missing a vital piece.” Dr. O’Malley says, “Do you think you can get your entire foster history from child services? If so I believe we can tie your dreams and these crimes together. There is no way that these dreams are of zero relevance.”

  The relationship between the two of them has exceeded the doctor/patient stage and graduated to a friendship. Since a little girl, Dr. O’Malley has been intrigued by mysteries. Which led to her occupation presently. The mystery of the human mind is far more complex then crimes. Because it’s the mind which shapes the necessity to commit the crimes. In language arts class, you’re taught about cause and effect. Crime is only the effect, but the mind is the cause. Breaking into the psyche and establishing the when, where, who, whys and how’s, is what drives her. Her nature is what first excited her about these sessions. Her woman’s intuition though, is what led her into befriending Suffiyah. She sympathizes with the situation Suffiyah is in and the fear she is tortured by. She sees the hand of death closing in on her and would do anything to keep her out of its grasp.

  “I believe I can. I just have to find the time between all of these cases.”

  “You have to, honey. The victims are all you in the killers mind. Which suggests to me that it’s only a matter of time before he becomes disinterested in these stand-ins’. I believe he’s using them for practice and once he’s confident enough he’ll go for his real target. Time is not your friend this go around. We don’t have the luxury.”

  The man looked at the reflection of himself in his rear view mirror. A glint of satisfaction and accomplishment showed in his eyes. His aggravated notions of retribution left him unperturbed by his cravenly acts. The evidence of his encounter stains the front of his pants. He gropes himself as he plays it back in his memory. The look of shock on their faces is almost as great as the release. He didn’t even have to strip her of her clothes. How befitting of the moment.

  CHAPTER 21

  6:00AM

  The smell of coffee is ingrained in the meeting room as the officers drained the brew. Coffee and adrenaline courses through their veins as they prepare for this morning’s activities. Tactical gear and vests are strewn all over the room as the men and woman stare forward attentively.

  “This man is a murderer, comrades. Don’t allow yourselves to be lulled into complacency by his calm demeanor. Inside his mind cold, calculated thoughts are running rampant. We have time on our side, he knew we’d be coming, he just didn’t know when.”

  Detective Lewis incites his charges. While the others are shaking the remnants of sleep from their bones, Lewis is fully charged. He’s been awake since three this morning, awaiting this moment in his day. The raid should go off without a hitch, but spooking his colleagues into over aggression is his intention. This wa
y they would be zero tolerant when approaching the suspect. In turn treating him coldly and in a threatening manner, which should have him running into Lewis’ open arms. Anything to get away from a swarm of trigger happy cops.

  “From my investigation, I’ve learned he’s the shoot first ask questions later type. So let’s not grant him the opportunity to shoot, huh?”

  “You’re such a thug when you want to be. Why you make that face?”

  Benji looks at Suffiyah on face time, not realizing his features are easily read. Her smile shows her confusion.

  “Nah, just something ‘bout that word. To me words have a definition that add up to character.”

  Benji lays back in his bed as he considers how to word his thoughts. “I feel in life you have thugs and gangsters. A thug is belligerent and impulsive. Capable of thinking but never doing it at the appropriate time. The proper reaction is usually an afterthought with them. Gaining them notoriety from the wrong eyes too early. While a gangster is a visionary, intuitive, attentive, mannerly always. Sensitive but aggressive. Able to fit in and standout simultaneously. This is just my opinion though, but let me give you an example. When they were doing the RICO sweeps on the Italian Mafia, you had John Gotti running the Gambino Family. He ordered all the made members to come to his social club to pay homage. This was his way of exerting his superiority over other members of his family. A pure ego move. Majority of the made members were unknown to federal agents until Gotti paraded them in front of them. He never thought that far. I view him as a thug. Then you have Vincent ‘Chin’ Gigante,” Benji says the name with such reverence it was apparent he held him in high esteem.

  “They charged ‘Fat Tony’ Salerno for running the Genovese Family. The whole time he never was. Chin was running the family for numerous years. He usta walk his neighborhood babbling to himself in pajamas and a bathrobe. His social club was where he spent his days but nothing was said in there pertaining illegal acts. He was diagnosed as schizophrenic and overlooked. But he took to the streets after midnight and resumed his role as boss every night. Showing law enforcement what he wished for them to see, he forbade everyone from mentioning his name out loud to keep him safe from any future wiretaps. He never took any out of country trips exposing his wealth. By the time fingers pointed his way his family was good. Why? ‘Cause his moves were premeditated. Thought out, he was a gangster to me. I feel thugs live for today and gangsters prepare for what’s coming tomorrow.”

  “You always got a philosophy on something, even this early. I think it’s more to you than you’re showing me, Mr. Cooper.”

  “What you see is me. The gangster is extinct so I could forever be the gentleman.”

  Meanwhile….

  Car after car spills into the block as quietly as possible. On the block behind this one, the same scene is transpiring. All chatter is quieted behind the dark windows as the troops of police in each car mentally prepare for what’s next. They’ve received confirmation that the suspect is in the house. All that’s left is to apprehend him as swiftly as possible while minimizing the possibility of endangering any of the officers. Their faces were fearless but in the silent cars you can hear the butterflies fluttering in their bellies. Giving away the nervousness the masks hide.

  “On my mark, exit the cruisers and surround the house.”

  Lewis’ voice comes through the radios in each car, each breath is held as they await his go ahead.

  “Car two, rear door. Car three, take the left side. Car four, take the right side. Cars five through eight, stay alert and watch for movement. Let’s go!”

  “I gotta get ready for work. I’m going to call you back when I finish getting dressed. You’re not leaving the house no time soon right?” Suffiyah asks.

  Benji places his arm behind his head relaxing more. “Not for another hour or two. My schedule isn’t that crazy today. I’m going to be just laying here waiting on you.” He smiles. His smile is so sincere it makes her hate herself.

  “See you soon, Benji.”

  ”Later, beautiful.” Benji has no intentions of rushing out the house. For some reason he can’t shake this ominous feeling. This gets under his skin because he can’t pinpoint the source. His bad feeling must be contagious, because Suffiyah has been smiling all morning. But her smile never seemed to reach her eyes.

  BOOM!

  The burly officer almost puts his big foot through the door as he kicks it open. Wasting no time, the rest of the team follow his lead and sweep the house. Guns held out at arm’s length as they rapidly approach the bedroom. Picking up pace when they see the still dark room. The beams of the flashlights show the surprise and fear on his face.

  “Don’t you move! Hands up!”

  “Let me—”

  “Shut the fuck up! Show me your hands!”

  “Please move so I can decorate your wall with your brain,” an officer begs.

  The way the pistols are aimed steadily at his face lets him know that this isn’t an empty threat. A black cop rushes out the background and pushes him from the bed. By the time his body touches the floor, the cop’s knee is in his neck as his arms are yanked behind his back. The way he aggressively pulls his arm feels like his shoulder is being dislocated.

  “Uggh!”

  The cuffs are cinched as tight as possible.

  “Secured sir.”

  The suspect lifts his face out of the carpet. He sees a kneeling figure in front of him and struggles to make out the face. A smile plays on his lips. “Easy gentlemen. This is a friend of mines.” Detective Lewis stares down at him. “Son, I told you we’d speak again.”

  Knock! Knock! Knock!

  “Who is it?”

  “Detective Sonya Fields, Essex County Homicide. May I speak with you for a moment?”

  Sonya can see the shift of light behind the peephole. She imagined herself being inspected with skepticism by the floating eye behind the door. She is just hoping the inspection process was a short one, because after spending her morning in this rank hallway she knew the odor was embedding itself in her clothes. She imagined that after standing in this stink hole knocking on every door in the corridor, the fabric softener smell has been eradicated from her clothes. Now she is the walking embodiment of the rancid stench which is this building. The slight creaking of the door brings her focus back to the task at hand. An older woman wearing a bonnet stands in the cracked door clutching her housecoat at the chest. The remnants of sleep are still evident in her age creased face as she eyes Sonya suspiciously.

  “Yes?”

  “Good Morning, ma’am excuse me for knocking on your door at this hour, but I’m investigating a murder in this building. So I’m going door to door to see if anyone has saw or heard anything. As of right now I have absolutely nothing to build off, so any information that you can provide me with would be appreciated.”

  “May I see your badge, Detective?”

  The woman peers through the chained door still treating her dubiously. Sonya fished her shield from beneath the blazer of her pants suit and holds it up for examination. The lady wasn’t an expert on badges but it looked real enough to her. “And I.D?” she persists. All Sonya can do is smirk. She now realizes how frustrating a traffic stop could be. Going in her handbag and retrieving her wallet, she holds it close enough to be viewed.

  Click!

  The door closes on her face. Her mouth stands open as realization registers. Suddenly the soft clang of the end of the chain being removed precedes the door being open.

  “Come in officer.”

  “Thank you.” Sonya passes her threshold and it smells of baked goods and fresh laundry. Compared to the hallway this was heaven.

  “You can’t be too careful in this building alone. Mr. Franklin downstairs, thought he let the exterminator in his apartment and them mens beat him upside his head and took what they could grab. Mrs. Reyes grandbaby got stabbed at the front door. I even heard—”

  “Excuse me Ms.
? ” Sonya interrupts knowing if she didn’t the whole buildings problems would be laid out.

  “Adams.”

  “Adams?”

  “Adams,” The woman says definitively.

  “Okay, Ms. Adams. I know you’re aware your neighbor across the hall was murdered. I was hoping you maybe could provide some insight into what might have happened. Did you know Ranesha Felder?”

  “I was getting there when you interrupted me,” Ms. Adams responds impatiently. “But she was so sweet. I mean precious. The heart of an angel, but that old devil never quits. She kept plenty folk in there. Men folk and womens. Sometimes two at a time, you know what I mean?” She asks tossing a sideways glance toward the door. Sonya just nods encouragingly. “It was sad. So beautiful a girl, but God bless the dead, she couldn’t close her legs to save her life. I even heard she’d have sex for the medicines. The blue ones!”

  “What do you mean?”

  Ms. Adams held up a finger excusing herself and went to the bathroom. She came back carrying a small medicine bottle emptying the contents in her palm. “Medicines!” She holds the thirty milligram Oxycodone’s out for Sonya’s inspection. “I don’t take them. Doctors gave em’ to me after my hip replacement. Made me feel sluggish. I’m already old, I’m sluggish enough. So I give her, my ‘scription so she don’t have to sex for them. The day she passed I was about to take her these, but police was knocking at her door. A woman dressed like you. I saw her from behind through the peep in the door.”

  “How do you know it was a cop if you only saw her back?”