All I Did Was Shoot My Man (20 page)

41

I TOOK A SUBWAY
toward midtown and my office. The second-to-the-last car of the A train was empty enough that I could sit on the end, next to the sliding doors. I put in earbuds connected to an ultra-thin MP3 player and listened to the seventies album,
Below the Salt
, by Steeleye Span, the English folk band. Nasally and dark, mystical and mysterious, the tones seemed to fit my predicament, telling me that the path of my life had been traveled for centuries and who was I to feel so special?

WARREN OH WAS
at his post behind the high podium at the front of the Tesla Building.

“ Warren.”

“Mr. McGill.”

“How’s the family?” I asked the Chinese-and-black Jamaican man.

“Mother’s coming to live with us.”

“She is?” I stopped.

“She’s too frail to take care of herself and my aunt died in the spring.”

Our eyes met. Understanding, sympathy, and acceptance of our fates were transmitted without words. He gave me a wan Island smile and I nodded—the perennial New York pessimist.

WHEN THE ELECTRIC LOCK
clicked I pushed open the office door expecting to see Mardi, her pale expression of devotion providing a moment of respite from the jagged threat of the streets of New York, encroaching old age, and innate negativity.

Young Ms. Bitterman was there behind her white ash desk but her expression was one of helplessness instead of welcome. Turning my head thirty degrees to the right, I saw the cause of her mild despair. Seated next to each other on my client’s bench was Aura, the woman I loved, and Antoinette, newest leader of a wild pack that had been on my trail for decades.

Aura stood up immediately, taking the two steps needed to reach me.

“Mr. McGill,” Antoinette complained.

“You’ll have to wait a moment, Ms. Lowry.” I took Aura’s hand and led her out into the hallway.

“Bad time?” were the first words she uttered when the door to my office closed behind us.

“If that was all, I wouldn’t need three days.”

“How bad?”

“Baby, I love you. You know that, right?”

When she smiled my heart trilled a high note.

When she kissed me I understood that love is always and only here and now.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll give you your three days.”

I took her hand and said, “It’s a really hard time, baby.”

“It always is,” she said to my heart.

As Aura walked away I took a moment to breathe before going back into the heavy atmosphere that surrounded my natural enemy and her mindless instinct.

I MOTIONED
to Antoinette when I returned to the reception space. She followed me down the aisle to my office. On the way we passed Twill, sitting at his desk, talking on a cell phone.

“Pops,” he said, then nodded at the private agent of industry.

I grunted at my son and plodded toward the back office.

Once Rutgers’s predator was seated I settled in.

“I was informed of the attempt on your life,” she said. She wasn’t impressed by the view or the size of my work space compared to hers.

“Bad news . . .” I said, feeling no compunction to finish the timeworn saying.

“Maybe now you’ll see how it is in your own best interest to cooperate with me.”

I laughed.

“Are you a fool?” Antoinette Lowry wanted to know.

“Lady, I killed two professional assassins while buck naked ten seconds after I’d woken up from a deep sleep. One I shot and the other I ended with my bare hands. Now you tell me what the fuck you could have done but get in my goddamned way?”

“Maybe if you shared information with me the attempt would have never been made.”

“Are you saying that Rutgers had something to do with those men?”

“No,” she said in a tone that revealed much more.

“But maybe somebody else?” I suggested. “Maybe Johann Brighton?”

“No.” This time she was much more certain.

“But there are some shadows up in there. You do business in places where the laws of man are different, sometimes virtually nonexistent.”

That was the beginning of our real conversation. I had shown that I was both capable and wise to the ways of her world. I could tell by the intensity in her gaze that she suddenly saw me as a worthy opponent—or ally.

“ What do you know about your attackers?” she asked.

I covered the important details, as blasé as I could manage.

Antoinette listened closely, trying her best not to show how deeply the particulars of the attempt impacted her.

“Does any of what I say sound familiar?” I asked after cutting off the tale at the interrogation imposed on me at the Elizabeth Street Precinct.

“ Why would it?”

“I don’t know. You’re the one investigating the robbery.”

“From the sounds of it, Mr. McGill, you have called this contract on yourself. For all I know this attempt on your life might have nothing to do with my business.”

“Com’on, girl,” I said. “Don’t be coy with me. Does this shit sound like some street-level thug or even some kinda upscale mobster? Foreign assassins don’t only take a lot of money. You got to have serious connections to make something like that happen.”

“Maybe,” she conceded.

“Anybody hire me is already on a level way below that kind of action. And you know if they’re trying to kill me, I have to be getting close to that fifty-eight million.”

“Maybe you already have it,” Antoinette offered. “Maybe you ripped off your confederates in the crime.”

“Darling,” I said, “you know my history probably better than I do. You know how many times my life has been on the line and the limits of my lifestyle. Do you think I’d be here in New York if I had all those millions? No, I’d be in some country with no extradition treaty with the U.S., buying judges beach condos and bedding the local hotties.”

This long-held fantasy seemed to go halfway to convincing my current nemesis.

“Then why?” she asked.

“Lewis and I got Zella out of prison. That has to put a strain on the real thieves’ exit plan. They want to destroy anything having to do with Zella and her possible innocence.”

“But why come after you? If you didn’t have anything to do with the heist, then you pose no threat.”

She had brainpower to spare.

“Scorched earth,” I explained. “Kill the principals when releasing Zella and the crime comes back to her. I mean, why else would she and her supporters get killed?”

“Maybe.” She still wasn’t completely convinced.

“ What else could it be?”

“Maybe it’s just the fallout between former partners.”

“Do you think for one moment that if I knew who was after me that they would still be breathing?”

Antoinette had my police files. She knew that I knew Hush.

“So what do you suggest?” she asked.

“Give me a number where I can get to you when I need to. I promise that if I crack this nut, I’ll share the meat with you.”

WE TRADED INFORMATION
and I walked her past Twill and then the reception desk to the front door of my suite.

After she’d gone I asked Mardi, “ What does your third eye tell you about her?”

“You were better off with the fever, boss.”

It was at that moment I realized that Mardi would one day inherit my business.

42

DECIDING NOT TO GO
back to my desk, I took the elevator down to the street.

Meandering in a westerly direction, I realized that I was not only angry but also confused. I wanted to gather up Hush and declare war on my enemies only I wasn’t sure just who the enemy was.

Minnie Lesser had something to do with it—though that made no logical sense. Johann Brighton was involved. And then there was Antoinette Lowry; was that child of the South trying to kill me too?

In the back of a yellow cab, headed for home, I sent a text to Bug Bateman in what felt like a vain attempt to keep moving forward.

WHEN I GOT
to our place I found a new key in the mailbox; it worked perfectly on the repaired and replaced front door.

Tatyana and Katrina were sitting side by side in the little front room, chatting in soft tones. My wife was smiling almost ruefully while Tatyana paid close attention to her every word.

“Ladies,” I said.

I went to the pink padded chair beside the maroon sofa and Tatyana moved to rise. Katrina put out a hand and the Belarusian sat back down. This interaction alone told a full story—albeit in a language foreign to me.

“How are you, Katrina?”

“Fine.” The soft smile was not reassuring. “I’ve made lasagna for you and the children.”

“I’m so sorry about what happened.”

“No, Leonid,” she said, “it is I who should be apologizing. Most men support their families with safe jobs at insurance companies and auto garages. I’ve been cruel to you and every day you’re out there with your life in the balance. If one night that danger spills into this house, I cannot blame you. I should have been working, taking some of the weight off of your shoulders.”

“I never asked for that,” I said.

“But I should have taken the initiative. I can see now that it is as much my fault as yours what has happened.”

“Katrina . . .”

“Tatyana has been supporting her family for years and she is so young,” my wife said. “ When I was her age I expected men to buy me things and here she is doing for others.”

This was definitely not the woman I had married. Her words indicated a change so profound that I had no idea how to respond. I was a lone Crusader washed up on the shore of the New World after my ship had foundered, taking with it all hands but me.

“Can I make you a drink?” I asked. Old standards are always the best.

“Cognac,” my wife said.

I looked inquiringly at Tatyana. She shook her head almost imperceptibly.

IN THE DINING ROOM
I found Dimitri reading a hardback book.

“ What you readin’?” I asked.

“Technics and Civilization,”
he said, “by Lewis Mumford.”

“I once read a book by him.
The City in History
, or something like that.”

I took a seat next to my boy.

Dimitri closed the book, turning his attention to me.

“It’s my fault, right?” he said.

“ What?”

“That Mom almost got killed.”

“Of course not. Those men were after me. And it’s not even my fault. I didn’t do anything to them.”

My phone chirped, telling me that it contained a message. I resisted the lure.

“But I wasn’t here,” Dimitri said.

“I was.”

“Yeah . . . You know, I was thinking, Pops . . . maybe I should start goin’ to Uncle Gordo’s gym.”

“You got the build for it,” I said, “that’s for sure. But you can’t protect everybody you meet.”

“Just Mom and Taty, is all I care about.”

“ What about school?”

“I’ll go back after Tatyana gets her degree. You know I love history and science. But she’ll be able to get a better job quicker than I can.”

I put my hand on D’s right forearm. He put his left hand over my fingers. We hadn’t been so close since he was an infant but still our levels of experience placed us miles and miles apart.

THE MESSAGE
was a forwarded e-mail from Bug. Once you help a man with his love life he responds with alacrity. I went to my den and downloaded the pages of data he’d sent.

What he found wasn’t an answer to my problems, not exactly, but it indicated a path I might take.

“HELLO?”
she said on the fourth ring.

“Ms. Lowry?”

“I didn’t expect you to call so soon.”

“ We should meet.”

“About what?”

“Considering the clout of my enemies, I’d rather not say on the phone.”

“Enemies?”

“Anybody who sends cutthroats to my door is an enemy.”

“Do you know the Pink Lady?” she asked.

“Yeah.” I hadn’t been there in years.

“I’m busy right now but I can get there in a few hours, let’s say eleven?”

I POURED COGNAC
into a chilled snifter and grenadine and sparkling water into a tall tapering glass. These I delivered to Katrina and Dimitri’s girlfriend before going back out on the street—where I belonged.

43

CENTRAL PARK is
glorious after dark. City lights glow in the distance, making the shadows between the trees even deeper. Many a night when I was on the run from child services and the police I’d slept in the hidden recesses of that man-made wilderness.

It might have been dangerous for some but I was armed and angry. The .25 in my pocket looked like a toy when in my big hand but it could still rip through flesh and bone, spill any man’s blood who wanted to do me harm.

I strolled around the dark paths with impunity, maybe even hoping a little that some poor miscreant wanted to confront the short and fat middle-aged park walker.

Lucky for the unnamed troublemaker, he didn’t see me or was wise enough to keep his distance.

THE PINK LADY
was the only classical music nightclub in all New York—maybe even in the entire world. That evening a woodwind quintet was playing eighteenth-century sonatas and chamber music.

There were fifteen or so round tables set in a semicircle around the dais where the musicians performed. There was also a bar. People sat and drank, spoke in soft tones, and appreciated the European precursor to jazz.

Lowry sat alone at a table set farthest away from the players. She was sipping at a bright pink drink of sloe gin and strawberries—the signature cocktail of the club.

“Hey,” I said, taking the seat next to her.

“You found it okay?”

“I used to come here with a friend a long time ago.”

“Really? I wouldn’t expect you to know a place like this.”

“ Why not?”

“ What did you want with me, Mr. McGill?”

“You were born Dwalla, Iché Dwalla. The name might be from Africa but your people were in Alabama for generations all the way back to the seventeen hundreds. They were Tellfords and Mintons, Mummers and Daltons before becoming Afrocentrists. But you rebelled against that—renamed yourself and went on to Harvard, then Stanford. Your education might seem to some to be at odds with the decision to join the army but I see that as the continued rebuke of your parents’ politics.”

“Impressive,” she said. “You know how to get information. But I don’t have anything to hide. I’m not afraid of your knowledge.”

“I’m not trying to frighten you. I’m just explaining why I wanted to meet.”

“And why is that?”

“I don’t know who’s trying to kill me, Ms. Lowry. I don’t have any millions of dollars. Zella Grisham is innocent. So I figure that it’s either the heist men or Rutgers after me—either of them or both.

“You’ve only been with Rutgers for twenty months. When the heist went down you were entering the armed services as an intelligence trainee.”

A light slowly rose in the dark woman’s eyes.

“ Why would you suspect the company that was robbed?” she asked. “ Why would they do something like that and put me on your trail too?”

“Maybe not the whole company,” I ruminated. “Maybe just a few parties who set up the robbery. Clay Thorn might not have acted alone.”

“And you think because the hit men were exotics that only someone with power could have set it up,” she said.

“The top heist men could set up a hit like that but these guys didn’t.”

“Oh?”

I told her about Clarence Lethford’s tale of Bingo, and his men. I didn’t say anything about Nova Algren.

“I didn’t know that,” Antoinette said. “I knew that Lethford had been in charge of the investigation but he refused to talk to me. Now I can see why.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, “he probably suspects you guys too. So the only question is, would you follow the bread crumbs if they led you back to your own masters?”

“That’s my job,” Antoinette Lowry said solemnly. “But I have no reason to think that the guard Thorn had anything to do with the upper echelons of Rutgers. The internal investigation after the heist revealed that he had a cousin doing time for armed robbery. We believed that his cousin’s contacts got him to set up the job.”

“Have you proven that?”

“No.”

“Have you at least interrogated the cousin?”

“Steven Billings died of lung cancer three years after the robbery.”

“But if you suspect Thorn and Billings, why believe that Zella had anything to do with it?”

“There was proof in her storage space. Do you have proof that any other employees of Rutgers are involved?”

“Not ironclad—no.”

“Then why are we here?” Antoinette asked.

Instead of answering I gestured toward a young waitress. Like all of the servers she was white and blond, wearing a little black dress.

“Yes, sir?”

“Cognac,” I said, “as close to twenty-five dollars a glass as you can get.”

She smiled at the ordering technique and went away.

“The corporate flowchart indicates that you don’t report to Johann Brighton,” I said to Antoinette.

“I could have you arrested for just knowing that.”

“Is that chart telling it like it is or is it just a fiction?”

“I don’t report to him.”

“Did you know that Minnie Lesser, the girlfriend of the man that Zella Grisham shot, is now Brighton’s personal secretary? She changed her name to Claudia Burns.”

The slip of a waitress brought me my snifter. I took a sip and savored the burn.

“But you claim that Grisham is not involved,” Antoinette said when the waitress was gone again.

“Somebody had to set her up.”

I was on shaky ground. I knew that Minnie couldn’t have been involved with the crime before it was committed but that didn’t mean she wasn’t pulled in after. And even if it was some big coincidence I still needed Antoinette working with me.

By any means necessary,
as my father and Malcolm X were known to say.

The quintet was playing something from the Romantic period. It sounded like Brahms without the piano. Lowry turned her attention to the music while taking small mouthfuls of her pink drink. I allowed her to savor and listen, knowing that I had brought a bitter taste and a sour note to her investigations.

She was in a tight spot. If someone from the upper crust of Rutgers was involved, the solution of the crime might have been beyond her pay grade. She could get fired or even follow in the footsteps of Bingo and his friends.

She put down the glass and returned her full attention to me.

“I’m not afraid of a fight, Mr. McGill.”

“You should be.”

“Tell me something.”

“ What’s that?”

“The person you came here with, were they white?”

“She was a black woman,” I said. “As a matter of fact you remind me of her in many ways.”

“ What happened to her?”

“She was murdered.” A muscle in my diaphragm twitched.

“You loved her?”

“Not enough.”

“I’ve given up on black men,” Antoinette said as if this was somehow a logical continuance of our conversation.

“You don’t like us?”

“No, it’s not that. I find black men infinitely attractive and interesting. But they take me to a place that I don’t want to revisit.”

“Maybe down in Alabama,” I said. “In New York we might take you to the Romantic era.”

“I’ll consider what you said . . . about the robbery. I’ll look into it a little and get back if I find you’re being straight with me.”