“It's me, Ms. Blake,” said a man.
Ramona recognized the voice but couldn't remember who it belonged to. She opened the door and frowned as she saw Jesse King, standing in front of a policeman with a skullcap on his head. Jesse said something to the officer, then closed the door behind him.
“What do you want?” Ramona said, going back to the bed.
“Hey, can you be here without my lawyer?”
“No. It's illegal for me to be here,” said Jesse. “I told the guard I came here to trick a confession out of you. That's illegal too. And it's also illegal for me to help you escape, but that's what I'm gonna do.” Jesse looked tired and serious.
“What the hell are you talking about?” asked Ramona.
“You and I have to get out of here tonight, or we'll both be dead.”
“Is this some kind of cop trick? I try to escape, you all shoot me?”
“I wish it were,” said Jesse. “I'm serious.” He pulled off the hat and showed her the bruises on his head. “They came after me tonight, the same men who killed the mayor. We don't have a lot of time. I told the cop outside that I wanted you put in a room down the hall because we're bringing a dangerous prisoner in tomorrow.”
“Sorry, but I don't trust you,” said Ramona. “You work for the enemy. You been bought, my brotha. Unh-unh.” She walked back to the bed.
“I have the tape,” Jesse lied.
Ramona stopped. She turned and walked back to him. “You found it?” she asked.
“That's what I said.”
“Then why do I need to escape? I'll just stay here and--”
“Karen's dead. They killed her,” said Jesse.
Ramona showed shock and sadness. “Dead? I just talked to her this morning.”
“I'm sorry,” said Jesse. “She was my friend too. They tried to kill me, but... they failed. They've set me up as Karen's killer. I don't think right now either of us can trust anybody.”
Jesse decided not to tell Ramona everything until she agreed to come with him. It was a tough decision to take her with him. For all he knew, she had killed Yancy. But if she was right about the tape, then the infamous black briefcase existed too, and she was the only one who could get it. And that was the only thing that could exonerate him now, he hoped.
“Okay then, where's the tape?” asked Ramona.
“You have to come with me if you want it,” said Jesse.
“I see. So you're gonna blackmail me.” She was angry.
“Let's just say I need the case first.”
Ramona sat down on the bed as if the weight of the world were on her. Jesse knew that feeling. He didn't envy her.
“Okay, I'll go with you,” said Ramona. “But how are we gonna get out?”
“Let me worry about that,” said Jesse. “You just go into the new room and wait for me.”
“But they got cops all over this place.”
“I know. It won't be easy, but the one thing we need to do is get started. Time is not on our side.”
Jesse and an officer took Ramona down to the other end of the hall and put her in the room. Jesse talked to the officer for a moment. They shared a laugh; then he left.
Ramona sat on the bed in the new room and waited. She'd packed her bag full of everything that she could. Clothes, makeup, and the little money Karen had given her. She was ready to go.
This Jesse guy was fucking with her, she thought. He was not going to give her that tape until she did what he wanted. Well, after they got out of this place, she'd get the tape, and then he could kiss her black ass. He was right about one thing, though. If the killers were after him, they would find him. They'd almost gotten her twice. Suddenly she felt better about the idea of escaping.
Soon Ramona heard the familiar sound of the elevator thumping in the wall. It was then she realized that the two rooms she'd been in were at opposite ends of the hall. The elevator shafts ran next to the end rooms. The thumping stopped. Then it started again, then stopped, started, then stopped. He was in there, she thought. Jesse was in the elevator, playing with it. Then she heard other noises. Ramona turned on the TV and turned up the sound.
After a few minutes the wall facing the elevator began to crumble at the base. A small hole appeared in the wall and began to expand. Soon the hole was about the size of a baseball. Jesse's hand began to carefully pull away the thin plaster and old wood, dropping the waste inside the wall.
“I'll be damned,” Ramona said.
“Get something to hide the hole,” Jesse said. Ramona picked up a tall wastebasket and placed it by the wall. The wastebasket was tall and extra wide. The hospital's name was printed on it in blue.
When the hole was big enough, Ramona grabbed her bag, ready to crawl through. She pushed the bag inside the opening, then struggled to get her body in. Jesse had to pull her. She started to go in, but it was hard.
“The hole isn't big enough,” she muttered. Her braids swung back and forth in her face. “If I make it any bigger, they'll see it, and we need the time it will take for them to look for you inside the hospital.”
“Shit,” Ramona said. She struggled, inching farther inside.
There was a knock at the door in the room.
“You asleep, beautiful?” said a guard's voice from outside.
Ramona and Jesse panicked. Jesse began to push her back through.
“I'm not supposed to come in, but if you ask me, I can,” said the guard. Jesse pushed harder, and plaster crumbled around Ramona's torso.
“Not so hard, it hurts,” Ramona said.
“Get in the bed, and don't forget to put something over this hole,” Jesse said.
Ramona wiggled out of the hole and put the tall wastebasket against the wall to cover the hole. She got into the bed and pulled the covers up to her neck. She lay there for a few minutes; then the guard pushed the door open and peeked inside. He walked in and looked at Ramona asleep in the bed.
“Damn, what a waste,” he said. He touched her breast lightly, and Ramona grunted and turned over in bed, away from him. The guard stepped back, afraid. He took a step to her, then backed off. He turned off the TV and left.
After a few minutes Ramona got out of the bed and went back to the hole in the wall and got inside.
“What happened?” Jesse asked.
“Fuckin' pervert felt me up,” Ramona said.
She crouched down, determined to get in the hole. She threw her little bag inside and squeezed in on the first try. Jesse held her up and helped her get her footing on the elevator car's roof. He had left the car just under their floor so that he could access the wall near its base.
“Okay,” he said. “Pull that basket against the wall; then drop through that door on the roof of the elevator. We'll go out the basement through the alley. There's only a few people working tonight.”
Ramona pulled the big wastebasket over the hole, then got into the elevator with Jesse. The elevator lurched as Jesse lowered it toward the basement, thumping all the way down. From there they easily made their way out to Jesse's car.
Jesse sat in the car and took a moment to settle down. Just a few hours ago he had been a lawyer with a bright future. Now he was a criminal who'd committed at least four felonies in the last two hours. This was his last logical chance to turn himself in and hope someone would believe him.
“What are you waiting for? Let's get the fuck outta here,” said Ramona.
“After this point there's no turning back. I'm just making sure I know what I'm doing.”
“Wasting time is what you're doing. I'm not goin' back in there no matter what you say. So drive, or I'll get out right now.”
Jesse put the car in gear and glided past the police cruisers parked around the hospital. He drove away from the hospital and got onto the freeway.
“I know a place for us to stay out in Eastpointe,” said Jesse.
“Fuck that,” said Ramona. “We'll stick out in whitey land.
Eastpointe,” she said with contempt. “
That city used to be called East Detroit, until those racist-ass white people changed it.”
“You have any ideas?” said Jesse, glaring at her.
“Yeah. We need to go where the cops never go. Just follow my directions,” said Ramona.
Jesse turned onto a freeway headed east. He knew then where he was going. He was going to the one place he'd thought he'd never go again, the place the police would have the most trouble finding them, the heart of the city.
PART 2
FUGITIVE
1
On The Run
They were mesmerized by the little television in the dim motel room. The TV was cheap, old, and bolted securely to a chest of drawers. They'd gotten to the Groundling Motel on the east side late in the night. Jesse was sure that the clerk, who appeared to be drinking, hadn't noticed them. Just another couple headed for a quickie.
Overnight the murder of Karen Bell and their escape had been discovered. It was now the media event of the year. Their faces were plastered on the front page of every newspaper and local TV news show. It was a nightmare for Jesse. This had been his fear since the day he stepped out of the ghetto. He was a criminal again, a nigger, whose long journey had come to a predictable end.
Jesse went cold as his picture flashed across the screen. “Jesus,” he said, “we won't be able to go anywhere if this keeps up.”
“At least your picture looks good,” said Ramona sourly. “That mug shot of me is not happening at all.”
Jesse looked at her with disdain. Here she was, in a life-and-death situation, and she was worried about how she looked on the damned tube.
In the hours since their escape Jesse had sized her up. Ramona was nothing more than a cheap little criminal just like that cop Nicks had said. But she was street-savvy, and it had come in handy.
She had suggested that they switch license plates on Jesse's car. He agreed and watched with amazement as Ramona easily stole the plates from another car and switched them.
Jesse had no faith in the woman, but she was the only one who knew where that black briefcase was. At least she was not hard on the eyes, he thought. Even tired and disheveled, she was beautiful. Under ordinary circumstances he would have been thinking really nasty thoughts, but that sort of thing was low on his list of priorities.
He'd seen her type before, a rough neighborhood girl blessed with good looks. They were like angels until they opened their mouths; then they turned into typical undesirables. Ramona's every mannerism bespoke her history in the ghetto. Jesse actually envied her that. He was uncomfortable with his history. Since he'd become a professional, his past followed him like a specter.
It took the cops an hour to discover their escape route. Carol Salinsky, a local reporter, had called the escape “brilliant” and “dynamic.” Lucky was what it was, Jesse thought.
Ira Hoffman had given a teary interview stopping up just short of calling Jesse the devil. Ira had no doubt that Jesse was guilty and had posted a reward. In closing, he had appealed to Jesse and Ramona to turn themselves in.
Salinsky also recounted Jesse's affair with Karen Bell in detail, even interviewing Karen's ex-husband, who cried as if he were still married to her.
Jesse became suddenly sad. He'd been so worried about getting caught and going to prison that he had not mourned for Karen. She'd had everything to live for, and someone had snuffed out her precious light. He felt grief for her family and himself. He made a promise that he would find whoever was responsible for her death and lock them away forever.
Jesse was pulled from these thoughts as he saw Ellis's face on TV.
“We're here with Ellis Holmes, a prominent attorney and one of Jesse King's best friends,” said Carol Salinsky. “Mr. Holmes, did you have any idea that Jesse King was capable of this kind of act?”
“Nothing's been proven,” said Ellis. He looked upset as the cameras closed in on him. “Jesse was a good lawyer and friend. Let's not be so quick to judge him until all the facts are in.“
“This must be a double shock to you after the suicide death of Louis Franklin,“ said Salinsky.
“Yes, “ said Ellis. He looked even more upset, almost sad. “Louis was... a good man. Excuse me. “
As Ellis walked away from the cameras, Jesse smiled a little. At least someone was standing by him.
“That was Ellis Holmes, Jesse King's best friend,” said Salinsky. “He is reeling from the King-Blake murder and escape as well as the suicide of his law firm's only African American partner, Louis Franklin, who hung himself in the basement of his home.“
“Harris Yancy called Louis Franklin the night he died!” said Jesse to Ramona. She didn't respond.
“... and earlier today,” said Salinsky, “King's fiancée, Connie Givens, had this to say.”
After a moment Connie's face appeared on TV.
“I know he didn't do this,)J she said. Several microphones were in her face. ''And that's all I have to say.” She went into an office building saying “No comment” to the mob of reporters.
“Jesse King's embattled fiancée, “ said Salinsky. “She maintains her belief in his innocence, but from where I stand, I'd say the wedding's off.”
The report ended, and Jesse turned down the TV.
“Figures,” Ramona said with a trace of contempt.
“What?” asked Jesse.
“You being engaged to a white woman. You brothers all get a little money and you lose your damn mind.”
“Connie is not white,” Jesse snapped. “She's black.”
“Black?” said Ramona. “Damn, the color must be really fucked up on this TV.” She laughed, then waited a moment before asking, “So, did you kill Karen?”
“No,” said Jesse harshly. He held back the anger he felt at her for even asking the question.
“Did you kill Yancy?” .
“You know I didn't,” said Ramona. “You heard the tape.”
Jesse felt trapped for a second. He forgot that he was hiding what he knew about the tape. “Yeah. Sorry,” he said.
“I only asked,” said Ramona. “Because a girl likes to know what kind of man she's hanging out with. You know, is he sensitive, funny, or a cold-blooded killer?”
“I don't appreciate your humor,” said Jesse. “These people, whoever they are, are not joking. They're smart, ruthless, and they will kill us to get what they want. “
“So, did Karen tell you my story?”
“Yes, she told me most of it.”
“Then I'd like to hear what you know,” Ramona said.
Jesse told her everything he knew.
“Shit,” she said. “The men who attacked you sound like the same ones who tried to kill me.” Ramona suddenly laughed. She had one of those faces that made you happy when they smiled. It caught Jesse off guard, and he smiled a little.
“Now what's so funny?” “I beat those men, but they kicked your ass. I guess that means I can whip you.”
“I wouldn't test that theory if I were you,” said Jesse. “Besides, they ambushed me,” he added a little defensively.
“So, where's the tape?” asked Ramona.
Jesse took a moment. The tape was gone, and he needed her to exonerate himself. But if he told her he didn't have the tape, she'd fly, and then he'd be in really deep shit.
“Before I give it to you,” he said, “I need to find the black briefcase. “
“A friend of mine has it,” she said. “If I lead you to it, I want that tape.”
“Deal,” said Jesse. “Who is your friend?”
“Nevermind, but I'll tell you right now. She's a dealer.”
“Okay,” said Jesse. “I just hope it's not one I put away.”
“For your sake, I hope not too,” said Ramona. “So, what's in that black briefcase?”
Jesse turned off the TV. “I don't think you wanna know that.” He was putting on an act, but he had to keep her believing that he knew something about all this that she didn't.
They decided to leave the Groundli
ng. It wasn't safe to stay in one place too long. Jesse cut his hair down low with scissors and his electric razor and pulled the skullcap he'd worn over his head.
For her disguise Ramona wrapped her braids around her head and pulled a cap over them. It didn't fit, so she cut the sides of the cap until it did. Then she put on a lot of makeup.
They went into the parking lot. There were six cars there. Edging open the cheap door, they both jumped in horror when they heard the short blast of a siren. They moved back behind the door into the motel room, until they saw an ambulance roll by. They breathed easier.
“Man, that scared me,” said Ramona.
“Okay, we can't take any more chances in your car,” she said to Jesse. “After a day the cops will stop any car that looks like yours.”
“You're right,” said Jesse. “Okay, how about that Lincoln?”
“You crazy?” asked Ramona. “The cops always look for new cars first,” she said. “And he probably has a Lojack on that bad boy. I think we need that one.” She pointed at a dark green Ford.
“That piece of crap?” said Jesse. “It might not make it out of this parking lot. “
“But the owner won't care if we take it,” said Ramona. “And neither will the police.”
They walked over to the car and found it open. It was littered with beer cans and cigarette butts. And the steering column was busted. Wires hung from it.
“Damn, someone already stole this car!” said Ramona.
“Only in Detroit,” said Jesse. “Okay, this makes our job easier. I have to get rid of my car. You follow me, and after I ditch it, we go together. “
Ramona got into the car, rubbed two wires together, and started it up. Jesse jumped in his car and drove away. He pulled the car onto a side street and left it. The police would find the car soon. The kids who would inevitably steal it would be questioned. That would buy them some precious time.
Jesse got into the car with Ramona and roared off in search of her criminal friends. Jesse watched her as she drove. Her face was determined, strong-looking. She was a good partner to have if you were a criminal, he thought darkly. He just hoped that her friends still had that black case.
Double Dead Page 18
