Bad Boy Brawly Brown

— 31 —

I dropped by Colonel Lakeland’s office at about ten that morning.

Miss Pfennig wasn’t happy about it, but she sent me on through to Mona, who was, if anything, even less enthusiastic about my presence. But Mona called her boss, and he had her send me right in.

Detective Knorr was seated at the table, in the same chair that I had chosen to keep from being the center of attention.

“Yes, sir,” I said without being asked anything.

I took a seat, also uninvited.

Knorr gave me his assassin’s smile. Lakeland was more honest and simply frowned.

“What do you have for us?” Lakeland asked me.

“Not too much,” I said. “Nothing solid.”

“How’d you get arrested?” Knorr asked.

“Just like I told them,” I said. “Me and Jasper and Christina had gone to see BobbiAnne, but she was out and the door was open. I’ve been havin’ a weak bladder lately and—”

“Cut the shit, Rawlins,” Lakeland said. He took a familiar-looking 45-caliber pistol from somewhere behind his desk. “What in the hell is this?”

“I found it on the table in that woman BobbiAnne’s living room,” I said.

“That the story you told Petal?” he said.

I knew he was talking about Pitale. Maybe that was the way he pronounced his name.

“No story,” I said. “It was sitting right there in plain sight.”

“How’d you like to spend thirty-five years in a federal prison, Mr. Rawlins?” Lakeland asked.

“No thanks.”

“Because this, this gun, was stolen from a federal facility in Memphis, Tennessee, and that’s the sentence for the theft.”

“I think my paternal grandfather was from Tennessee,” I said. “The story goes that he killed a white man and had to relocate to Louisiana for his health.”

Knorr’s light eyes regarded me as a child might stare at the wing he was about to pluck off a fly.

“It was on her coffee table,” I said. “I picked it up, put it in my pocket, and then the cops busted in. Why were they there, anyway?”

“Petal works for Captain Lorne. They’re also keeping watch on the First Men’s members,” Lakeland said.

“They were camped outside of BobbiAnne’s apartment?” I asked.

“Apparently,” Lakeland said. “When they saw Bodan and Montes go in, they hoped they could get them on something and break up their organization. But the real question is, what were you doing there?”

“I found out that BobbiAnne was Brawly’s friend from back in high school in Riverside, so I went there with Xavier and Tina to talk to her.”

“About what?” Lakeland asked. Both he and Knorr leaned forward, almost imperceptibly, to hear clearly how I lied.

“They were scared,” I said.

“Scared of what?” Knorr asked.

“Whoever killed Strong. Tina had been moving from place to place, and Xavier was sitting behind his door with a pistol in his hand.”

“So what’s that got to do with BobbiAnne?” Knorr asked.

“I told them that Brawly’s father, Aldridge Brown, had also been murdered and that I thought that his death had something to do with Strong’s and that BobbiAnne knew something about it because of her connection to Brawly.”

“What’s she got to do with Strong’s death?” Lakeland asked.

“Hell if I know,” I said. “Like I told you half a dozen times already, the only thing I’m interested in is Brawly. Tina and Xavier knew BobbiAnne, so I thought they could get her to get me with Brawly.”

“But what’s that got to do with the shootings?” Knorr asked.

“Ain’t that the question I just answered?”

“So you know nothing about Strong’s death?” Lakeland said. “You just lied to them so that they would take you to Brawly.”

“I lied to ’em,” I said. “But that don’t mean I don’t know nuthin’.”

I waited, wanting them to feel that they were mining information and not being spoon-fed.

“What?” Lakeland asked.

“The same thing you should know if you were listenin’,” I said. “Tina’s scared to death and so is Jasper. They both loved Strong and believe that he was murdered by the government, the police, or by both. They sure didn’t have anything to do with it. All they want is to build schools for black children.”

“Schools where they’d teach children hate,” Knorr said.

Lakeland turned his head to Knorr as if his words were the clarion call. Then he turned back to me.

“That’s all you know?”

“So far.”

“So you walk in here and tell us that you don’t think these people are involved with murder,” Lakeland announced. “Who did kill him?”

“Somebody scared, somebody stupid,” I said. “Somebody that he knew and that he could harm. That’s always the way, now, isn’t it, Colonel?”

The officers of the law were stumped by me speaking their language.

“Are you gonna keep on this?” Lakeland asked me.

“If you mean, am I gonna keep on looking for Brawly and trying to get him back home with his mother — the answer is yes.”

“We got you out of jail,” the colonel said.

“And I told you everything I learned from Xavier and Tina.”

Lakeland lifted up the pistol and bounced his hand. “Was this the only weapon you found in the apartment?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you need to know anything from us?”

“I’d like one more address,” I said.

“What?”

“Where did Strong live while he was down here?” I had heard the address they’d given on the news. It wasn’t the same one I’d gotten from Tina.

“The Colorado Hotel,” Knorr said. “On Cherry. But you don’t have to worry about going over it. We already searched.”

“Does where he live mean something to you?” Lakeland asked.

“No. I mean, I thought I might go by there and ask if Brawly been around. You know that’s my prime target.”

“I thought you were a janitor,” Lakeland said. “But you sound like some kind of detective.”

“Do you know how to sew, Officer?” I asked in response.

“What?”

“I don’t mean darn,” I said. “I mean could you piece together a pattern and stitch the seams of a shirt or a pair of pants?”

“No.”

“Can you bake a cake from scratch or lay a floor in an unfinished room?” I continued. “Or lay bricks or tan leather from a dead animal?”

“What are you getting at?” the colonel commanded.

“I can do all those things,” I said. “I can tell you when a man’s about to go crazy or when a thug’s really a coward or blowhard. I can glance around a room and tell you if you have to worry about gettin’ robbed. All that I get from bein’ poor and black in this country you so proud’a savin’ from the Koreans and Vietnamese. Where I come from they don’t have dark-skinned private detectives. If a man needs a helpin’ hand, he goes to someone who does it on the side. I’m that man, Colonel. That’s why you sent Detective Knorr to my house. That’s why you talk to me when I come by. What I do I do because it’s a part of me. I studied in the streets and back alleys. What I know most cops would give their eyeteeth to understand. So don’t worry about how I got here or how to explain what I do. Just listen to me and you might learn somethin’.” I closed my mouth then, before I said even more about what I’d learned in a world that had already passed those cops by.

They were both staring at me. I realized that any chance I had of them underestimating me had passed by also.

“So who do you think killed Strong?” Lakeland asked.

“I don’t know anything about it, Officer,” I said. “It could have been somebody in the First Men, but not those two kids.”