The Night Gardener

CHAPTER 32

Ramone entered the video monitor room at VCB with a fried-chicken sandwich and can of soda in hand. It was late in the afternoon, and he had not eaten lunch. Rhonda had processed Aldan Tinsley while Ramone made the carryout run.

Antonelli sat in a chair, his feet up on a table, his ankle holster and Glock fully visible. On screen 1, Bo Green was going at Dominique Lyons, who apparently had been informed of Darcia Johnson's on-camera testimony and cooperation. His face was contorted in anger, and he had been leg-ironed to the stool. Bo Green sat back, his hands folded on his belly, his expression neutral, his voice calm and soft.

'Bo just told Dominique that we've got the man who sold him the gun,' said Antonelli. 'And that that same gun was the weapon used in a homicide the night before. Check him out. Our boy don't look so pimpin now.'

Onscreen, Dominique leaned forward and punched his fist on the table.

'Bullshit,' said Dominique. 'Y'all can't charge me on no other murder. I ain't stupid enough to buy a gun got a body attached to it.'

'Beano told you it was clean?' said Bo Green.

'Damn right that motherfucker did.'

'Where'd he get the gun, then?'

'I don't know. Ask his punk ass where he got it.'

'We plan to,' said Green.

Antonelli dropped his feet to the floor and nodded his chin at screen 2, where Rhonda sat with Aldan Tinsley. 'Your booster's not saying much.'

'He will,' said Ramone.

'Rhonda hurt?'

'That door barely touched her. She went back like she'd been hit by a Mack truck.'

'Woman's got acting skills.'

'Along with everything else.'

They watched Rhonda go back and forth with Aldan Tinsley and make no progress. Ramone ate his chicken sandwich with the ferocity of an animal, killed his soda, and tossed the can in the trash.

'Think I'll go in,' said Ramone.

Antonelli watched the screen, saw Rhonda turn her head at a knock on the door. Then Ramone entered the box. He had a seat next to his partner and placed his hands on the table.

For the third time that day, Ramone loosened his tie. It was warm in the box, and he could smell his own body odor in the room. He had played basketball in these clothes a few hours earlier. He had wrestled with Tinsley. He felt as if he had been wearing this suit and dress shirt for a week.

'Hello, Aldan,' said Ramone.

Aldan Tinsley nodded. His lips were swollen from where he'd hit the floor. He looked like a duck.

'You comfortable?'

'My mouth hurts,' said Tinsley. 'I think you loosed up one of my teeth.'

'Assault on a police officer is a very serious charge.'

'I apologized to the detective here. Didn't I?'

'You did,' said Rhonda.

'I ain't mean to hit her with that door. It's just, I was upset. Y'all ain't say why you were there to see me, and I been having too many run-ins with the law lately. I'm just tired of it. Tired of being harassed, too. But listen, I wasn't lookin to hurt no one.'

'Serious as it is,' said Ramone, 'the assault charge is the least of your worries right now.'

'I want a lawyer.'

'Dominique Lyons. You know the name?'

'I don't recall it.'

'Five minutes ago Dominique Lyons told us that he purchased a gun from you on Wednesday night. A thirty-eight Special. The girl who was with him when he purchased the revolver has confirmed that it was you who made the sale.'

Tinsley's lip trembled.

'The gun was used by Lyons in the commission of a homicide later that night.'

'You ain't hear me? I want… a fucking lawyer.'

'I don't blame you,' said Ramone. 'I'd get a whole team of lawyers, I was you. Felony gun charges, accessory to homicides…'

'Man, I ain't did no motherfuckin homicides. I buy things and I sell things. I ain't no killer.'

Ramone grinned. 'I said homicides. Beano.'

'Nah. Uh-uh.'

'I wonder if you can tell us your whereabouts this past Tuesday night.'

'Tuesday night?'

'Tuesday,' said Rhonda.

'I visited this girl on Tuesday night,' said Tinsley, relief at the change of direction plain on his face.

'What's her name?'

'Flora Tolson. I been knowin her awhile. She can, like, verify that I was there.'

'Where?' said Ramone.

'She stay up off Kansas Avenue.'

'Where off Kansas?' said Rhonda.

'I don't know exactly. Above Blair Road.'

Ramone and Rhonda exchanged a glance.

'What were you doing there?' said Rhonda.

'I was gyratin. What you think?'

'And you left her house what time?'

'It was late. We had a long visit. After midnight, I expect.'

'And what, you drove straight home?'

'No, I…' Tinsley stopped talking.

'You walked,' said Ramone.

'On account of that DWI you're carryin on your sheet,' said Rhonda.

'You got no driver's license,' said Ramone.

'Gyratin player like you, walkin to your dates,' said Rhonda.

'I want a lawyer,' said Tinsley.

'And the way you would walk to your home on Milmarson,' said Ramone, 'is through that community garden they got on Oglethorpe Street.'

'Fuck y'all,' said Tinsley. 'I ain't kill that kid.'

'What kid?' said Ramone.

'I'll take a gun charge,' said Tinsley. 'But not a murder.'

Ramone leaned forward. 'What kid?'

Tinsley's shoulders relaxed. 'I found that gun.'

'Found it where?'

'In that community garden they got on Oglethorpe. I always cut through it when I come back from Flora's. It's the shortest way to my mother's house.'

'Tell us what happened.'

'I was just walkin through. I came up on this thing, like, lyin in the path. I thought it was a man sleeping, at first. But when I looked down and let my eyes adjust, I saw that it was a boy. His eyes were open and there was blood around his head. It was obvious that he was dead.'

'What was he wearing?' said Ramone, hearing the catch in his voice.

'He had on a North Face coat,' said Tinsley. 'I could make out the symbol they got in the moonlight. That's all I can recall.'

'Anything else you remember about him?'

'Well, there was the gun.'

'What gun?' said Ramone.

'The thirty-eight revolver that was in the boy's hand.'

Ramone made a sound. It was a short, low thing that was close to a moan. Rhonda said nothing. They all listened to the air coming from an overhead vent into the room.

'Did you touch it?' said Ramone.

'I took it,' said Tinsley.

'Why?'

'I saw money lyin there,' said Tinsley.

'Didn't you realize that you would be destroying evidence at a crime scene?'

'Three hundred dollars was all I could see.'

'So you stole it.'

'Wasn't like that little nigga was gonna use it again.'

Ramone stood out of his chair, his right fist balled.

'Gus,' said Rhonda.

Ramone quickly exited the box. Rhonda got up and glanced at her watch.

'Can I get a soda, somethin?' said Tinsley.

Rhonda did not answer. Instead she looked into the camera. 'Two forty-three p.m.'

She left Tinsley there with his dread and walked into the offices. She found Ramone sitting and talking quietly with Bill Wilkins by Wilkins's desk. Rhonda put a hand on Ramone's shoulder.

'I'm sorry,' she said.

'Why didn't I see it?' said Ramone.

'None of us did,' said Rhonda. 'No gun on the scene. Any of y'all ever work a gunshot suicide where no weapon was found?'

'Left-handed mitt,' said Ramone. 'Left-handed, shot in the left temple… powder on the fingers of his left hand. He wasn't wearing that North Face because he was showing it off. He was carrying a gun in its pocket. My son saw him and said he was sweating. But he was crying. I shoulda fuckin seen it.'

'You gotta admit,' said Wilkins, 'it's unusual, him killin himself.'

'That's not true. Bill,' said Rhonda.

'I'm sayin, black kids don't do themselves, generally.'

'See, that's wrong,' said Rhonda. 'Black teenagers do commit suicide. Matter of fact, the suicide rate of black teenagers is on the upswing. One of the benefits of being admitted to the middle and upper class. You know, the cost of money. Not to mention easy access to guns. And a lot of black gay kids just know they're never gonna be accepted. Part of it's that unspoken thing in our culture. Some of my people gonna forgive you for just about anything, except that one thing, you know what I'm saying?'

'Think of how it was for Asa,' said Ramone, 'living with guilt in that kind of hyper-macho environment.'

'He couldn't live with it,' said Rhonda.

'Anyway,' said Ramone, standing.

'Where you goin?' said Rhonda.

'Still a couple of things I need to sort out. Bill, I'll call you with an update later on.'

'What about all the processing and paperwork?'

'Your case. Sorry, big guy. I'll talk to the father, if it's any consolation.'

'Charges on Tinsley?' said Rhonda.

'Charge that motherfucker with everything,' said Ramone. 'I'll find a way to make it stick.'

'We did some good work here today,' said Rhonda.

'We did,' said Ramone, looking at her with admiration. 'I'll talk to you all later, hear?'

Out in the parking lot, Ramone phoned Holiday's cell. Holiday answered and said that he was out by National Airport, dropping off a client.

'Can you meet me?' said Ramone. 'I gotta talk to you in private.'

'There's someplace I need to be,' said Holiday.

'I'll come to you right now. Gravelly Point, by the airport. The small lot on the southbound lane.'

'Hurry up,' said Holiday. 'I don't have all fuckin day.'