Another Senseless Killing (21) “He said he would hurt us really bad if --- if we ever got in his way.” Marti said. “Those were his exact words.” “What a slimy son-of-a-bitch!” I thought. “I promise you,” Foley said vehemently. “He will never lay a hand on any of you.” Everyone was quiet for a few minutes while Nick wrote in his notebook. “What about your parents?” Nick asked. They gasped almost in unison. “They would die if they knew.” Kayla said “Please!” Marti pleaded. “Do you have to tell them?” Nick and I exchanged a quick glance. We both knew that we would. “We’ll do all we can.” Nick turned the page. “Okay. Tell us about your --- clientele.” “We each had our own men.” Tanya spoke with obvious agony. “We did it --- either here or --- at the gentleman’s apartment.” Angel added. “Or it was at a private place set up by the client.” “Did any of you --- share clients?” Nick asked. “No.” They all spoke at once. “We never shared.” said Lannie. “And we always did whatever the customer wanted.” “The men were first names only and fictitious.” said Tonya. “So none of us knew who they were.” “Were they married or single?” Nick spoke as he wrote. They all thought for a moment. Kayla volunteered. “Some were probably married. We never asked.” “The men were all strangers to us.” Said Marti. “Some were only one-nighters.” “Mr. Carver tried to discourage one-nighters.” added Angel. “He wanted repeat trade.” Marti and Kayla let go of each other’s hand and both began rubbing their palms together. “We’re not at all proud of what we did. We --- “ Kayla’s voice trailed off as she put her head down. “How often did you see your clients?” Nick asked “Sometimes weekly. Sometimes monthly.” Kayla raised her head slowly. “It depended on schedules.” “I can’t believe how naive we were.” said Marti. “We really thought it would help us in our careers.” “And the money was terrific.” Added Lannie. I looked at my watch. It was three-forty-three. “Then we got so involved --- “ Angel started to cry. “You couldn’t get out of it.” Nick finished her sentence. Again they all nodded. “Did any of you keep a log of your --- dates?” I knew Foley was going to say ‘tricks’, but he checked himself in time. “No.” Kayla said. “Only Mr. Carver had access to that.” There was a long silence before Nick asked, “What can you tell us about Kate Blair?” Angel shrugged. “I didn’t know her all that well.” “I don’t think any of us did.” Marti added. “I spoke to her a couple of times.” said Kayla. “She was quiet --- kept to herself most of the time.” “I think she was wild.” said Tonya. “Why do you say that?” I asked. “Well --- the few times I talked to her, she spoke about sex as if that’s all there was in the entire world.” Tonya went on. “Personally, I think there was something wrong with her.” “We all did it because we were forced into it.” added Lannie. “I think Kate did it because she loved the excitement it generated for her.” “I felt sorry for her.” said Tonya. “I once saw her address book by accident.” said Marti. “She grabbed it away like it was life or death. I did manage to flip through the pages.” She blushed. “I --- I know I shouldn’t have. But there were three --- maybe four names. That’s all. And they didn’t look fictitious. They had first and last names and addresses.” “Do you remember any names?” I asked. Marti thought a moment then shook her head. “No. It was a while back.” Nick showed the girls Rowland’s photo. They stared at it for several seconds. “I remember him.” offered Angel. “He was one of Kate’s clients.” “Tell us about him.” I tried to hold my temper. “I saw them together once.” Lannie said. “I remember he yelled at her.” “I saw him smack her.” said Kayla. “Me too.” added Angel. Nick put away Rowland’s photo and took out one of the senator. “Anybody ever see this man?” They all shook their heads. “I don’t recognize him at all.” said Tonya. “Who is he?” I looked at my watch. It was four-fifteen. Maybe I could catch the second half. “His name is Reid Carlson.” Foley said. “He’s a senator from Pennsylvania. And another of Kate’s clients.” “Wow!” Lannie’s eyes lit up. “That’s big time. I don’t think I ever did it with anyone that important.” They all smiled at Lannie’s remark and some of the tenseness eased. I knew Nick would change all that with another bomb. “Did you know she sniffed cocaine?” They all gasped again. “Oh my God!” Kayla spoke up. “I don’t think any of us knew that.” “None of us did drugs.” said Angel. “Well --- “ Lannie interjected. “ --- except for an occasional joint.” “Shh --- “ Marti put her fingers over Lannie’s lips. “An occasional joint,” said a grinning Nick Foley, “is the least of our problems.” He turned the page. When he looked up the grin was gone. “Cocaine is serious stuff, ladies. We feel that Warner was supplying Carver and Carver was supplying Kate.” “Or,” I added, “maybe Warner was supplying Kate direct. But it doesn’t matter. Either way, Carver is in some deep shit!” After another long silence, Kayla asked, “What’s going to happen to us?” Nick ran his fingers through his hair and considered the question for a long time before he responded. “You were wrong and now you know you were wrong. So you’ll put this horrible experience behind you and go on with your lives.” Nick spoke like a father not a cop. I knew his kids were this age. “Easier said than done.” Marti said discouragingly. “We know there are rules in this world and sometimes we break them through no fault of our own.” Nick continued in his fatherly tone. “We become a victim of circumstances.” “We will do all we can for you.” I wanted to hug each one individually. “But you all may have to go to court and testify.” Nick added. “Trade your testimonies for a suspended sentence.” Their concerned faces became more concerned. Once again Tonya served as spokesperson. “This means we’ll have to confront our parents.” “That’s right.” I said. Then Nick added soothingly, “And we can promise you that John Carver will never harm you ever again.” At first their faces were blank. After Nick finished his spiel, a faint sign of hope appeared as some of the color returned to their cheeks. Five o’clock! I would get in most of the second half if we left right now. “Tell me, ladies.” Nick put away his pencil and pad. “Do you think anyone else knew about this --- operation?” “Unless Mr. Carver talked about it.” Lannie said innocently. “Highly unlikely.” I said. “We know our clients wouldn’t say anything.” Marti added. “They all seemed to be satisfied.” I’ll bet! “I’ve been dying to ask you this.” I stammered. “Do you always dress --- I mean the colors ---” Tanya jumped in to save me from further embarrassment. “You mean dressing to match our hair color.” “We all think it’s stupid.” said Angel. “But Mr. Carver wanted it that way.” “And,” said Nick softly but furiously, “Mr. Carver always gets his way!” “Yes.” Marti answered meekly for everyone. “I, for one, intend to change my hair color or get a whole new wardrobe.” added Lannie. They all laughed for the first time. “Well, ladies.” Nick said confidentially, “We appreciate your candor and confirming what we already knew. Now I want you to take these papers --- “ He took an envelope from his inside jacket pocket. “--- and write down everything you’ve told us today. Then bring it to me at the police station.” Kayla took the papers. Then they all looked at each other, then slowly left. Five-twenty. Maybe I could catch the fourth quarter. * XXXII “Bea, that lasagna was delicious.” Nick’s patted his large stomach through his open vest. “If I keep eating like this, I won’t fit into my Honda let alone my clothes. I’d have to go out and buy a bus.” “Nick,” I laughed, “I would say that is a slight exaggeration.” “Well, thank you, Nick.” Bea blushed as she smoothed out her apron. “But you don’t have to worry. Everything was low fat.” “Even a no fat meal couldn’t have helped me tonight.” Nick continued patting his stomach. “Talk about overeating.” “Everything was okay.” Arthur said in his usual non-committal way. Then without a smile or even a polite nod, he walked away from the table. It would never dawn on him to take his dirty dishes to the sink. What a putz! Nick and I looked at each other. I shook my head. Bea acted as if nothing happened. But I knew she was embarrassed and I couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. Within the hour, Arthur would be out of the house and on his way to a gay bar. “The next time my wife is out of town visiting her sister, you can invite me over and make lasagna again.” Nick gallantly shifted the attention back to the cuisine. Then he helped Bea remove the dirty dishes. “See how domesticated I am?” Nick sported a wide grin as he put the dishes in the sink “How long have you been married, Nick?” Bea asked. He stopped and thought about it for a second. “Thirty years next month.” He wiped his hands on Bea’s apron. “But her lasagna never comes out like this.” “Oh, nonsense!” My sister was glowing. “I’m sure she’s a fine cook.” “Her specialty is brisket.” Nick bragged. “See.” Bea pointed her finger at Nick playfully. “I knew it.” I put the salad dressings and the grated cheese back in the refrigerator. Then Bea gently turned Nick and me around and aimed us away from the kitchen. “You two go into the family room. You can watch TV, or talk or --- “ “We don’t mind helping with the dishes.” Nick volunteered. “Speak for yourself.” KP was not my thing. “Go on.” Bea said with a flair. “I’ll finish up in here.” “Okay.” Nick continued. “I don’t have to be told twice. But don’t say I didn’t offer.” I picked up an ashtray in the kitchen. We went into the spacious family room, separated from the kitchen by a wide archway. The walls and ceilings had all been painted last year with a soft white. The carpet was a tight napped black wool. The maroon pillow on the gray sofa was the same color as the drapes. The chairs matched the sofa. I thought the color scheme was ugly, but no one ever asked my opinion. One wall had an open entertainment center with a twenty-eight inch TV in the middle. The large glass coffee table in front of the sofa was covered with several framed snapshots. I lit a cigarette and Nick shoved a cigar into his mouth. I sat down on the sofa. Nick removed one of the pillows and sat on a chair. The fireplace was still smoldering from earlier in the evening and only embers remained. Bea liked the ambiance and the smell, even though the temperature outside was in the mid sixties. I got up and stirred the white coals. I had to admit it smelled terrific. “So what’s with Arthur?” Nick asked innocently. “Is he always this unfriendly?” I shrugged and glanced up the stairs. “He is truly a class-A schmuck! Did you notice how he brightens a room when he leaves?” I took a puff and flicked the ash into the ashtray. We continued to speak softly. “Later he’ll probably go out to a gay bar and pick up some slimeball.” “I’m Catholic, okay?” He took the cigar out of his mouth and studied it for a second. “Catholics feel the same as Jews about retaining moral values.” “Hah!” I quipped. “Arthur has no moral values.” “We think alike, Manny. We understand each other.” “That’s why we’ve stayed friends all these years.” I turned to him. “I get a warm feeling talking about it.” “Me too, Manny.” Then he shook his finger at me. “But Arthur is still your brother-in-law.” “Don’t remind me!” “Did you ever talk to Bea about Arthur?” “Are you kidding? She --- “ I put my fingers to my lips and motioned towards the archway. “Here.” Bea came into the room carrying a large tray which held two cups, a creamer, sugar, a carafe of coffee and some small assorted cakes. “Have some dessert.” “Bea,” Nick took the cigar out of his mouth and laid it on the ashtray. “you’re gonna spoil me but good.” “I hope you like the pastry.” She said. “It came from this new bakery on the corner.” “It looks fantastic.” I added. “They don’t use any lard or butter.” Bea said seriously. Nick and I glanced at each other. Then Bea put the tray down on the table away from all the pictures. I looked at my sister as she was leaving. I suddenly wondered how she would look with a little make-up and a decent dress. She was not unattractive: short black hair, dark eyes, high cheekbones, full lips, a nice figure --- . “Aren’t these your parents?” Nick interrupted my daydreaming as he picked up on of the snapshots on the table. “Yes.” I poured coffee into both cups, added cream and took a sip. “I sure do remember them. They’ve been gone --- “ “Ten years.” I finished Nick’s sentence. “They both died the same year, didn’t they?” He took a bite of pastry, his eyes on the photo. “Dad died in April. Mom was --- September.” Foley looked at me wistfully. “With that beard of yours, you resemble your father.” I nodded reflectively. Whenever I looked in the mirror, I felt the same way. “My sister says that all the time.” “Who’s this?” Nick asked. I walked behind him and peered over his shoulder. “That’s Bea. Age --- one or two.” “I’ll be damned.” Nick finished his pastry and washed it down with another sip of coffee. “Photos can sure accumulate. Charlotte parks them all over the house. Every time she sees an opening on a shelf, she sticks a picture on it. Every fucking room is loaded with nostalgia.” “To tell you the truth, Nick, I don’t pay attention to these pictures any more.” I got up and mixed around the coals again. The glow was fading. ”Bea just finds ‘em and frames ‘em. I have no idea where she gets them and I have no idea what’s on that table.” I put my cup down and adjusted the lampshade on the lamp next to the sofa so Nick could have more light. He finished his coffee and picked up a photo he’d been staring at. “Manny, this picture --- “ Arthur suddenly came bounding down the stairs and into the kitchen. I heard a brief conversation, then he walked by us, giving a slight nod and raced out the door. “How are you fellas doing in there?” Bea yelled from the kitchen. “Fine, Sis.” I yelled back. “The pastry was excellent.” “I’m glad you liked it.” I lit up a Camel with the butt of the previous one, inhaled deeply and blew the smoke toward the ceiling. “What did you think, Nick?” Nick just stared at the photo in his hand. “Nick,” I repeated, “what did you think --- about the pastry, I mean?” He stood up slowly, looking piqued and agitated. His mouth was partly open as if he were about to blow out an imaginary flame and his entire face sagged. I couldn’t tell if it was fear or anger --- or both. “Nick?” I put my hand on his arm. “Are you okay?” “What?” He turned towards me. “Oh --- yeah. I --- I’m fine. A little tired maybe. Plus I over ate.” “You’re sure?” I was concerned. “Yeah. I’m sure.” He looked at his watch. “Well --- I think I’ll be running along.” He went into the kitchen, where he thanked my sister and gave her a hug. We then both walked him to the door and I shook his hand, which was uncharacteristically sweaty. We watched as he got into his Honda and drove away. “I think he’s working too hard.” I put out my cigarette. “This case seems to be getting to him.” “What?” Bea leaned closer to me. I realized I was mumbling under my breath. “Nothing, Bea.” “Well, goodnight, Manny.” She took off her apron and gave me a peck on the cheek. “I’m going up stairs and watch a little TV, then get ready for bed.” She didn’t mention Arthur, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to. “Goodnight, Bea.” I walked back to the small dinette. The kitchen was spotless and in certain places it actually sparkled. I couldn’t help but wonder why Bea kept the kitchen so clean and her bedroom so messy. I decided it wasn’t important. I hoped Nick was okay. That was important. I sat back down and picked up my favorite literature: the Cleveland Plain Dealer sport section, wondering which Brownie football team would show up Sunday for the game with Chicago. It was going to be another long season! * XXXIII No one was at the reception desk, or anywhere else for that matter. Even Swan Lake had been silenced. Nick knocked on Carver’s door. We waited silently for two or three minutes. No response. I opened my windbreaker. I didn’t think I would need my piece, but if I did I wanted it handy. Nick knocked again.
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Copyright © 1998 B J Bloch |