Fearless Jones (3 page)

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Authors: Walter Mosley

Tags: #Fiction, #Library, #Literary, #Historical fiction, #Mystery, #Historical, #Mystery fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Police Procedural, #Los Angeles (Calif.), #World War; 1939-1945 - Destruction and pillage

BOOK: Fearless Jones
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A bullet ricocheted off the side of my door.

I made a right turn and Elana leaned out, taking four fast shots at the rampaging bull of a car. I had turned onto Edison,
a warehouse street with very few pedestrians. I remembered, too late, that most of the side streets off it were dead ends,
so I couldn’t afford a turn. We were on a straightaway with only two bullets left.

“Did you hit anything?” I shouted.

“I don’t think so.”

The Chrysler was coming on strong for three blocks, four, five. I swerved and banked to pull around cars ahead of me. Leon
matched me move for move. After Leonard Street the bull slowed. By the next block there was smoke from the car’s hood. They
pulled to the curb soon after that.

I almost fainted when I realized we’d survived.

I turned onto Hooper and headed downtown.

“Where are you going?” she asked me, the steely calm of her voice in deep contrast with my racing heart.

“You’ll see when we get there.”

After half an hour or so we came to an underground parking lot on Flower. It was expensive, thirty-five cents an hour, but
I wanted to be careful now that I had a killer on my trail. A killer with whom I had just been in a running gun battle in
the streets of L.A.

I reached out to Elana Love and said, “Gun, please.”

She looked down at the pistol in her hand and considered a moment before handing it over.

We went to a small diner called Guardino’s on Hope. It was a nice place with an Italian flair. Larry, the owner, liked me
and Fearless because we’d come there on double dates and buy big dinners with fancy wines for our girls. Fearless could eat
antipasto all day if you’d let him.

“Paris,” Selena Karsky said in greeting. She was Larry’s girlfriend, bottled blond and fifty. She still looked good though.
“Where’s Fearless?”

“He went away,” I said.

“Oh, that’s too bad. Is he coming back soon?”

“No,” I said. “I don’t think so. He got a job outta town.”

“You must miss him.”

“More every day.”

Selena took us to a booth in the dark corridor of the restaurant. Of the eight booths, six already had customers. All of them
were white, and a few gave us surprised looks.

“We’re not too hungry, Selena,” I told her. “Just beers, mine-strone, and an antipasto plate for two.”

“Okay,” she said, smiling.

“Friend of yours?” Elana asked when Selena was gone.

“She smiles and serves me spaghetti and seats me even though some people complain. I like her okay.”

“Why did you bring me here?” Elana asked.

“Because I’m a fool.”

“Excuse me?”

“If I had sent you away instead of offering you a ride, none of this would be happening. I’d be sleepin’ off my lumps, and
you’d be all snugly with Mr. Douglas.”

My words made her uncomfortable, which was just fine by me.

“So,” I continued. “Tell me about Leon and why it’s his business to kill me.”

“Are you going to help me?”

“No. I’m gonna help myself. You got Frankenstein and his brothers stakin’ out my store. If I don’t do something, I’ll either
lose my business or lose my life. You know I don’t like either one’a them choices.” I spoke in a whisper that had all the
weight of a shout.

“What could you do?” Her sneer reminded me that she had witnessed my humiliation under Leon’s threats and violence.

“Go to the cops for one thing.”

That wiped the smug off her face.

“No, don’t,” she said.

“Why not?”

Elana Love struggled with the truth. It was all caught up with lies and fears. She couldn’t tell me everything, but she had
to let up on something or I’d blow the game.

“Leon had a cellmate in prison. A man named Sol Tannenbaum. Sol was in for embezzlement, but, you know, he wasn’t a criminal
type, never even been in jail. Leon’s tough. He promised Sol that he’d protect him. But Sol had to give him something.” Elana
stopped a moment.

“What?”

“It was a bond. What they called a bond of deposit. It was issued by some bank in Switzerland.”

“How much?” I asked.

“It was ten thousand francs, about two thousand five hundred American dollars.”

“So? What does all this have to do with Leon?”

“Sol didn’t have the bond in jail. He set it up so that I got it from his wife.”

“I thought you broke up with Leon before he got sent up?”

“He asked me for a favor. An’ maybe I didn’t exactly tell ’im that we were through.”

“And so you took the bond and…”

“I gave it to William to hold it for me.”

“I thought you said he didn’t have it.”

“He didn’t think he did, that’s what I meant,” she said. “I didn’t tell him what it was or anything. It was just in a whole
bunch of papers I left with him for safekeeping.”

Selena came with the beers and a basket of white bread.

When she was gone I asked Elana, “Why didn’t you keep the money with you?”

“Not money,” she corrected, “a bond. After Leon got sent to jail I was having trouble making my rent, and I didn’t wanna take
a chance and lose it if the landlord changed the locks and took my stuff.”

“But couldn’t Grove go through your papers, find the bond, and cash it in?” I asked reasonably.

“No,” she said as if talking to a fool. “It was made out to Mr. Tannenbaum. Only he could cash it. That way everybody was
covered. I couldn’t get the money and neither could Leon if he got out before Sol. He didn’t though. Leon told me that Sol
got out on good behavior last week.”

“So you think Reverend Grove went to this Sol guy an’ got him to sign over the bond?” I asked her.

“No,” she replied, looking down into her beer.

“Why not?”

“ ’Cause William don’t know he got the bond.”

I knew she was lying. Why would she tell me the truth?

“Why didn’t you go to find Grove yourself?” I asked. “And take the bond to Sol for him to sign it?”

“I didn’t even know that he was out of jail,” she said. “And even if I did, he would’a been a fool to sign it without Leon’s
say-so.”

“There’s something else I don’t understand. You said that Leon was in for armed robbery and attempted murder. How’s he gonna
get out anytime before twenty years?”

“Leon had a bad lawyer. He was sure that if he got a new trial he could beat the charges.”

“So now you sayin’ he didn’t do the robbery?”

“He did it all right, it’s just that they didn’t have no evidence.”

“Uh-huh. And the bond was gonna pay for the new lawyer?” I was trying to make some kind of sense out of her story, but it
wasn’t easy.

“Yeah. Leon told me that he told his lawyer that he could pay him a thousand dollars when he got out. He was gonna use the
bond for that.”

“And now he needs the money to pay his lawyer?” I asked.

Elana nodded. “Otherwise the lawyer’ll drop the case an’ he’s back in jail.”

“I’m sorry, honey, but your story still don’t add up,” I said. “Here you tell me that you’re close enough to Reverend Grove
for him to store your things, but you don’t even know his church’s address.”

“I knew where Messenger was” — there was acid on her tongue now — “I knew that William had cleared out too. But I needed to
get away from Leon. The church store was padlocked, so I told him that your place was the church office. That way I could
leave him outside and get away through the back.”

“Why wouldn’t he just come in with you?”

“Because he’s out on bail waitin’ for his new trial and he don’t wanna get that revoked.”

“Out on bail?” I said. “How much was that?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t go to the hearin’. All I know is that the judge turned over his conviction and set bail. I told him
that the people in the church would call the police if he caused trouble. He said he’d wait ten minutes, but I guess he didn’t
trust me.”

“No kiddin’? So all that shit you said about lookin’ for Grove, that was just actin’?” As I said the words I realized that
I was no more a match for Elana Love than I had been for her boyfriend.

“Maybe I already knew the church was gone, but I really was scared. You saw Leon. You can’t blame me for tryin’ to get away.”

“Here you are, hun.” Selena appeared with our soup and antipasto on a wide, cork-lined tray. She set the plates out in front
of us and stared admiringly at Elana. “You’re a beauty.”

“Thank you,” the siren said.

“Are you an actress or model?”

“No,” she answered. But there was something else. The way her eyes moved and her body twisted, a whole volume of mystery passed
from her to the waitress.

When Selena was gone I said, “So tell me something.”

“What?”

“Did Leon have money from that robbery? Is that what he’s after?”

She shook her head again. “They let him out of jail today and he was at my door an hour after. All he said was that he wanted
his bond.”

I wrapped a slice of salami around a semi-sour gherkin and popped it in my mouth. I chewed for a while, enjoying the loud
crunching in my ears.

“I didn’t mean to get you into trouble, Mr. Minton. I was just looking for a way out.”

I took Elana to that restaurant instead of putting her out on the street because I wanted to know about the trouble I had
fallen into. I had found out a few things, but they didn’t help much.

“So what do you intend to do now?”

“I don’t know.” She made a gesture of hopelessness with her hands, but I had learned by now not to trust when she was acting
weak.

“What about that place on Hazzard you wanted to go before? You wanna go there?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Are you going to help me?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I can’t go back to the store because of Leon. That’s where he’d go for sure.”

“We could go to your place,” she suggested.

“I live at my store,” I said.

“Oh.”

“But there’s a motel down at Venice Beach take us. It’s cheap and there’s the ocean outside. The waves help me think.”

“Let’s go there.” She reached across the table and laid her hand over mine. And damn if my fingers didn’t curl around hers.

4

THE MUSSEL BEACH INN
was half a block up from the water, perched on a small hill. You couldn’t see the ocean in the darkness, but you heard and
smelled it just fine. I left the sliding doors open because of a false sense of security I had. I mean, Leon wouldn’t find
us at the beach if he searched for seven years.

The lights were down and the linen curtains were waving in and out from our little cement patio. Every now and then the moon
appeared in a curve of the flowing fabric.

Elana told me that she was from Georgia, that her mother had brought her to live in L.A. when she was only twelve. But then,
just three years later, her mother moved to Jackson, Mississippi, with a merchant marine who later abandoned her.

“She left you on your own when you was just fifteen?” I said, sounding more concerned than I actually felt.

“We didn’t see eye to eye, my mama and me,” Elana said rather callously. “And anyway, I had a boyfriend I was livin’ wit’
when she left.”

I said that that was sad and tried for a kiss, but she turned away before I got there.

Leon, she said, was a strong arm and a robber. She worried that Sol Tannenbaum had to give up part of his life savings for
his thuggish protection. That’s why she left him. She wasn’t going to be a moll or an accomplice. She needed a man who was
going to be sweet and gentle.

I didn’t believe a word she said, but that didn’t matter. I told her that my mother raised me as a gentleman. “A gentle man,”
I said before launching another kiss. That one missed too.

It was late, and there was no immediate danger. She was a young woman, and I was the young man who had just saved her life.
I couldn’t see where a kiss was out of line.

“I’m too upset to do that, baby,” she said after my third awkward attempt. “Why don’t we try an’ get some sleep. I’ll feel
better tomorrow.”

The only vacancy the motel had was furnished with two single beds. I could see that I was destined to sleep alone and so crawled
under the covers of the one nearest the window.

“Aren’t you gonna take off your clothes?” she asked.

“No.”

“I won’t look.”

“I wish you would. You might see somethin’ you like. But I’m not taking off my pants until I know that I won’t have to run
any minute with some killer on my ass.” I wasn’t really afraid, but I had my car key, money, and Fearless Jones’s pistol in
my pockets. I wanted all of that close at hand.

She made a little humming sound and then got under her bedclothes. She did take off her dress, but I couldn’t see anything
because of the blankets.

“G’night,” she said softly.

I switched off the lamp on the night table next to my bed, closed my eyes, and concentrated on the sound of the waves. After
a while my mind began to drift.

In the reverie my thoughts kept returning to Fearless Jones.

Fearless Jones. Tall and slender, darker than most Negroes in the American melting pot, he was stronger than tempered steel
and an army-trained killing machine.

I learned just how deadly he was one night after a big rainstorm in San Francisco. I was coming down a dark street dancing
to the jazz I knew I’d be hearing soon. When the cops stopped me, I guess I must have been a little too cocky. They didn’t
like my attitude and were correcting it with their nightsticks when Fearless showed up to meet me. He jumped in the middle
of the fracas as if he were still under Bradley fighting the Germans hand to hand. He disarmed both men and beat them to their
knees.

He would have let it go at that if one of the cops hadn’t put a knife in his thigh. After that there was no hope. One cop
fell unconscious, facedown in a pool of water. The other, the one who stabbed Fearless, well, his windpipe busted.

Fearless still had a small limp from that knife wound. There’s never a day that goes by I don’t wish that I’d taken the beating
and Fearless had missed the whole thing.

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