Ms. Etta's Fast House (19 page)

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Authors: Victor McGlothin

BOOK: Ms. Etta's Fast House
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Barker flew out of the restroom, zipping up his pants and ready to strangle his partner for letting a trunk full of uncut heroin out of his sight. Within minutes, he was on the phone to St. Louis telling an interested party what had happened. Officer Brandish agreed to set up a net along the highway with designs on capturing the men driving Gillespie's department-issued vehicle when they reentered the city limits. Barker realized the car had to be headed south because Chicago was one hundred and ninety-eight miles away. The thieves would need a big city to fence that large amount of drugs and St. Louis was the closest.
Brandish's men could have searched the highway for days and found nothing. Dank had lowered a ramp a few miles up the road from the diner and Pudge drove the missing patrol car into the cargo compartment and locked it down tight. Once it was secured, Baltimore followed them into town, past the weary eyes of officers taking dirty money for their dirty deeds.
By morning, Brandish had relayed the bad news that Gillespie's police car never resurfaced. Barker's blood boiled when it occurred to him someone in his inner circle was responsible for him losing a two-hundred-thousand-dollar load of smack. Someone was going to die over the betrayal. There were no two ways about it. Retribution was imminent and lightning was destined to strike, just as Etta predicted.
20
B
ENT
W
ISHES AND
B
AR
S
TOOLS
I
t happened Thursday while Baltimore slept. Barker Sinclair, Tasman Gillespie and that fat mule Officer Tom Brandish met to decide two things, how to get their stolen shipment of heroin back and how overt their attack would be when going about it. After an early morning meeting, each of the men reported to duty so as not to draw any attention. Besides, going into work provided the perfect cover they needed to shake a lot of trees and pass it off as aggressive community policing.
On the last day of the trainee ride-alongs, Barker started out on a wild tear. He visited several of his smack dealers in colored neighborhoods before heading toward the other side of town to rattle a number of upscale cages. Henry sat back quietly, counting the hours until the shift was over. He was eagerly anticipating the cadets' graduation scheduled for the following afternoon. If he could somehow remain calm and keep his thoughts to himself, he would become one of the first Negro police officers in the city's history. While spending countless hours watching Barker and Gillespie terrorize the neighborhood he grew up in, he felt the clock wasn't ticking nearly fast enough. He didn't feel relaxed until they crossed the railroad tracks. Even though Henry couldn't decipher exactly what had the two rogue officers in a very bad mood, he knew it wouldn't likely change as long as they hadn't come up with a solution to their problem.
During their third stop on the list of Barker's white dealers, he and Gillespie left Henry in the car to drop in on a pool hall owner who'd made the mistake of complaining about losing money due to a skittish supply of drugs. His grievance was met with hostility and a rash of violent threats. “I don't give a damn what you have to do, Marty,” Barker grunted, inside the man's office. “We're all in a pinch and it'll be at least a week before I can get my hands on some more unless ...” he began to explain before catching himself. Business in the streets was already unsettling, and steadily declining. Telling his pushers how he'd gotten ripped off would cost him credibility in a hustle built on reputation and the ability to deliver. “Anyway, you see to it that your stash carries you through the weekend.”
Marty was shaking, partly because Barker had him by eight inches and thirty pounds. The squirrelly pipsqueak was a longtime junkie as well. He didn't have it in mind to share what little heroin he did have with his customers. “But I can't cut it no more,” the scared pool hawk debated, against his better judgment. “I've stripped it down once as it is. If I sift it again, it won't go right and my neck will be on the line.”
“Listen, you slimy little toad!” Barker yelled. “I know for a fact you've stepped on my deliveries twice when your pool tournaments lasted two days, so don't go screwing with me now. Just do what I tell you and we'll all come out on top when the smoke blows over.” What Barker assumed was correct. Marty had secretly created a slush fund to facilitate serving his own habit. He mixed in as many additives as he could get away with as it was. Stripping the chemical content further was sure to render it unfit for human consumption, but going against psychotic cops meant a certain death sentence. Marty reluctantly agreed and did what he was told.
More than a few minutes had passed while Gillespie and his drug boss puttered inside the pool hall harassing Marty. Henry's frustration took a toll on him. Against departmental policy, he got out of the squad car to stretch his legs. He pondered over the things he'd observed while trying to piece them together. It was unnerving to watch his mentors' nasty dispositions spiral out of control since the day began with Gillespie filing a false report to the shift commander about having the police car he'd signed out stolen from his front driveway. None of it made sense at the time so Henry pushed it to the back of his cluttered thoughts and said to hell with it, when suddenly he heard a man bellow loudly as glass shattered behind him. Henry ducked his head and cautiously turned toward the noise, expecting to see some poor soul come crashing through the pool hall window. Instead, the action was coming from somewhere farther down the sidewalk. A white man dressed in a soiled warehouseman's jumpsuit sprinted from the jewelry store with a cloth sack hanging from his hand. “Stop him!” the immigrant jeweler wailed in Henry's direction. “Police! Police!” he shouted frantically.
Every bit of moisture vanished from Henry's mouth when he realized the man was begging him to foil the robbery. He was for all intents and purposes on duty to uphold the law. Without waiting for Gillespie to join in the chase, Henry took off after the thief on foot. He mentally replayed all of the drills from the academy regarding the correct methods in apprehending criminals. As Henry grew nearer to the man who was running short on enthusiasm and gasping for breath, Gillespie and Barker exited through Marty's front entrance just in time to catch a glimpse of the pursuit in progress.
“Where the hell is he going?” Barker questioned, casually viewing Henry close fast on the suspect. “Dammit, let's go see what he's gotten himself into.” They sprinted for their vehicles parked at the far curb and barreled down the street after them.
“Stop, police!” Henry growled bitterly but the thief kept on running. “Stop or I'll shoot,” he managed, short of breath himself. Henry nearly tripped over the man when he actually gave in and threw his hands up. “All right now, don't move. Don't you move an inch!” The man peeked behind him, fearing that the copper just might make good on the threat to fire at him. When he saw a colored man with his gun drawn, the robber chuckled and then started down a narrow passageway. Annoyed when it appeared he might have to scurry after the man again, Henry took out his night stick. He flung it at the crook's legs like he'd practiced a million times. His eyes widened when it worked to perfection, causing the jewel thief to stumble. As he lay sprawled out on the cement groveling painfully, Henry had the last laugh. “Ah-huh, I bet it ain't so funny now. I got you, sucker. Yeah, I got you.”
When the veteran cops located them, Henry was walking his captive out of the alley with abrasions on his face and a nice set of handcuffs to replace the diamond bracelets he'd made off with.
Just wait until the boys hear about my first arrest,
Henry thought,
just wait. I'll finish at the top of the class behind this.
No sooner than he'd patted himself on the back, Barker tore into him with venom dripping from his twisted mouth.
“Have you lost your goddamned mind, boy?” he shouted at Henry, followed by fast violently strides. “What do you think you're doing?”
“What?” Henry answered, as proud of himself as a man could be. “I know I'm not full-fledged 'til tomorrow, but I figured I'd get a head start when I seen this man trying to make off with this bag of loot. It took some doing but I caught him, got him good too. Took this knife off him myself,” Henry gloated, showing off the long blade he confiscated single-handedly.
“Naw, what I mean is what do you think you're doing putting your hands on a white man like that?” Barker reprimanded. “Hand him over to me and don't you ever go after anybody that ain't as black as you. Damned spook's as dumb as dirt, I swear. What are they teaching y'all at the academy these days?”
The man Henry risked his life to apprehend lifted his head and spat in his captor's face. “Ain't no nigger hauling me off to jail,” he reveled smugly. “I'd die first.”
“Next time you'll get your wish,” Henry whispered under his breath as Barker marched the man he'd arrested back to his unmarked car.
“Talk to your boy,” Barker told Gillespie, just as he drove away with the criminal locked down in the back seat.
“Don't you say nothin' to me,” Henry warned, as they followed closely behind Barker's car to the station house. It was difficult to watch another man taking the credit for his hard work.
“Are you threatening to get something off your chest, Cadet Taylor?” Gillespie snapped back.
“Ain't no threats, Gillespie, just a heads up,” he answered plainly. “You go on ahead and push me. I'm ready to push back.”
“It ain't too late to blackball your coon ass, you know.”
“With what I know about you and Detective Sinclair, I reckon we'll all get what's owed us. Think on that before you go running your mouth over me.” Henry had been pushed to his limit whether he knew it then or not. Baltimore's words rang in his head until he shook them out. “They ain't gone let you wrestle in no white boys, just colored criminals and runaway dogs. They should've had you take the dog catcher test!” Henry had seen Baltimore beat a man to death with his bare hands during a heated conversation gone wrong, now he was wishing someone had knocked some sense into him. What Barker had put on him hurt a lot worse than a busted lip and left much deeper bruising. By the end of the day, Henry was forced to second guess his decision to join the force and reexamine himself as a man.
 
As the sun faded into the landscape, Delbert loitered outside of the superintendent's office. He had been having dinner with M.K. and Ollie, laughing it up about the scheme they pulled with the carnival contest and how much fun it was congratulating the winners when Hiram Knight stormed into the dining hall demanding M.K.'s presence immediately. The party ended abruptly as Dr. Knight sneered down his nose and then breathed fire from it.
Almost an hour had passed and still M.K. hadn't returned to the residence dorms for a game of poker with the fellows, so Delbert went looking for him. “Nurse Bernard, have you seen Dr. Phipps? He took off with Dr. Knight and no one's seen hide nor hair of him since.”
Willie B.'s wife Helen glanced up from her evening report and smile amicably. “Sorry, Dr. Gales, but I haven't seen him since he signed out for dinner. You might want to check the third floor, either the tub room or the soiled linens closet. That's where he usually takes that second-year nursing student he's sweet on. If he don't watch his step, he's liable to help her get booted but good.” Helen drew a line through several items on her report, before continuing. “Poor girl can't see for dreaming. She's missed curfew so many times, Knight's probably been getting an earful from Nursing Director Robinson and is passing it on down the line.”
Delbert had his suspicions that M.K. was keeping time with one of the young ladies from the nursing program, but that confirmed it. He thanked Helen and then wandered up to the third floor and searched the hiding places she mentioned. When his friend hadn't turned up in either of them, Delbert felt compelled to hang around until M.K. finished taking a tongue lashing from the chief.
“M.K., this is not what I expected out of you, son,” Dr. Knight scolded him, with his hand on his star resident's shoulder. “Well, it is what it is, I guess. Crying over spilt milk won't help the situation, but I know one thing that will. There's nothing left to do now but buying the cow,” he concluded, much to M.K.'s chagrin.
“No, please don't put that on me, Dr. Knight. I can't marry that girl, I'm-I'm already hitched, sir,” he lied.
Hiram frowned while picking up the telephone. “We'll let's just see about that. Operator, get me Washington D.C., the home of Mr. and Mrs. Walter D. Phipps. Yes, ma'am, I'll hold.” He sat his bony behind down on the corner of his desk, glaring at M.K.
“Please don't call my folks with this, Dr. Knight, I'm begging you. Please.”
“Don't you try to make me out a pigeon, boy. Come clean and take it like the man who's been up that nurse's skirt on the regular.”
Dr. Knight waited to be connected. M.K. paced worriedly. “O.K., O.K., I'm not married, but I don't want to be either. Can't we do anything about this before it goes too far?”
“Sorry, ma'am, wrong number,” the wise old surgeon said into the phone receiver before placing it back on the cradle. “First off, you lied to me and I can't stand a liar. Second, the girl says she's carrying your child, so it's already gone too far. What the hell did you think was gonna happen after sliding that rusty thang of yours between her legs every chance you got? The only people who act in such a reckless way are no less than fools ... or parents. You have effectively worked your way into both categories.”
“Yes, sir,” was all that M.K. could say on the matter. Dr. Knight ordered him to propose to the young lady after shopping for a wedding ring. He was given a two-hour break to facilitate his responsibilities, quick, fast, and in a hurry. Once sharing the dreadful news with Delbert, neither of them felt like shooting the bull over poker. M.K. asked that Delbert not mention a word about his plight until he'd had the chance to follow Knight's strict directions. He had changed out of his uniform into street clothes and disappeared before Delbert blinked twice. Feeling terrible about the young couple's dilemma, he called up Sue Jacobs at her parent's house and asked if she was available for a late movie. Unfortunately for him and M.K., she agreed to meet him downtown.
With both hands stuffed in his pockets, an old acquaintance of M.K.'s followed closely behind him while he pounded the pavement in search of solitude. He was convinced he had shaken it once and for all after his enlistment in the Army medical corps ended but there it was again circling him like a bothersome fly. The urge was so great that it caused M.K.'s head to spin. Although a few stiff drinks wouldn't make it stop, he had to slow the merry-go-round which had become his life. Ms. Etta's was open, so he slinked inside to get a handle on his misery.

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