The Game of Deception

by Victor L. Martin

  They continued to buzz and trip out until 5:10 p.m. Cortina’s hormones took over so she ended up leaving Maria to go sex her man up. Ten minutes had gone by with Maria about to doze off when suddenly the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it,” Maria said to herself, feeling real good. She walked slowly toward the door, unlocked it, and then slung it open. Her high crashed the instant her mind took in what and who stood before her. The muthafuckin’ pops!

  “Hi Maria,” Detective Hartford said amiably with two Durham Police behind her.

  Earlier, Detective Hartford had spoken to Poo-Man and voiced her concern about Maria being missing. She played the angle as if she was worried about her safety and explained to him about Maria last being seen with Ghetti. When Poo-Man heard this, he exploded in a jealous rage. When he calmed down, she asked him if Maria had any close friends. Poo-Man knew that Maria had only one true friend and that was Cortina. He gave Detective Hartford Corina’s address as well as her cell number. He also told her about Cortina and Sherwood selling weed and pills. Detective Hartford figured she could use that bit of info as leverage to get Maria to cooperate.

  Maria stood frozen in the doorway.

  “I’m homicide detective Hartford, and with me are officers Lloyd and Kellerman. I assume your friend, Cortina told you about yesterday and you now have an option. First, you can talk to me out in my car. And if you take this option, these two officers will forget this address and ignore the strong scent of marijuana. Option two, you can remain silent and then these two officers will do their jobs.”

  Maria lowered her head then walked outside, closing the door behind her. She was not built for situations such as this. As promised, the two officers left without looking back. Maria was led to an unmarked Crown Victoria. Once inside, Detective Hartford turned the car on, to get the heater blowing.

  “First off, Maria, I am a woman of my word and you are not under arrest, even though you are deeply under the influence of drugs. You have a few people worried about you, Maria.”

  Their conversation was interrupted when Cortina knocked on the passenger side window with her hair in a mess and a worried look on her face.

  “Tell her that everything is fine and that you will only be a minute,” Detective Hartford said quickly. Maria slid the window down and told Cortina that everything was okay.

  “Where is your friend, Ghetti?” Detective Hartford wasted no time in seeking the knowledge she needed.

  Maria released a deep sigh with her head down. All she had to do was tell the truth. Going with that idea, she told the detectives that she had no idea where Ghetti was.

  “When have you last seen him?”

  Maria told her the truth about her time with Ghetti at the Hilton. She also explained how she could prove this.

  “How?”

  “I signed up for the room in my name, but Ghetti paid for it,” Maria said. She then made a major slip-up by making Ghetti look guilty by telling how he reacted when he heard the police was looking for him. She would later blame her loose lips on the weed and beer.

  “Maria,” Detective Hartford said calmly. “I’m going to ask you a question and I urge you to be honest with me okay.” Maria nodded yes.

  “Do you know where Ghetti lives?”

  “No.” Maria quickly shook her head.

  Detective Hartford could not tell if Maria was telling the truth or a lie. In a split second, she began to take notice how attractive Maria was and this was a total shock to Detective Hartford. Other than Verenity, she had never looked at another woman in a sexual manner. Just as quickly as it flowed into her thoughts, it was gone.

  “So, you go to a hotel and presumably have sex, I guess and you can’t tell me where this guy lives?”

  Maria looked up. “I’m telling you the truth.”

  “Do you know his real name?”

  “No I don’t.”

  “Who is Poo-Man?”

  “My ummmmm, boyfriend.”

  “Does he know about your friendship with Ghetti?”

  Maria folded her arms. “That’s my personal business!”

  Detective Hartford waited a few moments to let the tension lower. “I apologize.”

  Maria simply nodded her head. “You talked to Poo-Man, huh?” Maria was far from being slow minded. The look on the detective’s face told her that she was correct. Cortina had a fake address on her I.D., hell even the name on her I.D. was fake. Maria knew only two people who could find her at Cortina’s, which were her brother and Poo-Man. Her stomach turned sour at the thought of Poo-Man turning his back on her.

  Detective Hartford ignored Maria’s question. “So you have no idea where Ghetti is nor do you know his real name or where he lives?”

  “Yes,” Maria said. “I’m telling you the truth, okay?”

  “I believe you. But to save your friend a lot of trouble, next time you speak to him you need to tell him it is in his best interest to contact the Durham Police. All we want to do is to talk to him, just as I’m doing with you.”

  “Can I go now?” Maria looked away.

  “Yes, and Maria,” Detective Hartford said. “Don’t let someone who doesn’t care about you bring you down with their trouble. Ghetti showed you how much he cares about you by the way he left you at the hotel, just keep that in mind, okay?”

  Maria made no comment as she quickly got out of the Crown Victoria. The statement she just heard was forcing its way into her mindset. Once she got back inside, she asked Cortina to take her home. It was no use hiding any longer. Maria was stressed, upset, and scared. Through all those emotions, she still found the heart to worry about Ghetti. When she got home, she curled up on the sofa to watch TV. Ghetti had not even considered it to call her to leave a simple message and this saddened Maria. She was beginning to feel used by Ghetti and it was hurting her. She refused to cry.

  As for Detective Hartford, she had put in a request to check the security tapes at the Hilton in Raleigh. Maybe there was a chance that Maria and the elusive Ghetti were on tape. Poo-Man had also given her Ghetti’s cell phone number, something that had slipped his mind with Detective Carter. Detective Hartford had called once, but received no answer. She went back to the county jail and pulled Maria’s brother from his cell. It did not go as planned. Carlos was not falling for any bullshit. He first requested to see his lawyer, and then of course, his English began to falter.

  Leaving the county jail, she hooked up with Verenity on a tryst in Greensboro.

  Mance made it an all day celebration on his engagement to Volanda. He ended up spending the night in her bed and made love to her endlessly.

  *Friday Morning 7:48 A.M.*

  Volanda woke up in Mance’s arms enjoying the scented oil that she had rubbed into his skin last night. She forced herself out of bed and into the shower. Since she was in a rush, she ended up driving Mance’s Lexus since it was blocking her car in. She left him her car keys and told him that she would call him on her lunch break.

  When she finally made it to work, Detective Hartford had her coffee ready. She also filled her in on her surprise visit with Maria.

  “I’m willing to bet that this Ghetti is our guy,” Detective Hartford said.

  “If it wasn’t for Regail, I would have never found Maria so quickly. You know those I.D.’s that her friend Cortina had were fake.”

  “Did you report it?” Detective Carter asked.

  “No.”

  “Figure we might need to hold a few chips?”

  “Correct. I really don’t know who is fully involved, so for now I’ll just keep the small stuff under the table. Also, Wanda called and left a message last night. Maria is back home, but no gold convertible.” Hatford told her.

  “So right now all fingers are pointing to this Ghetti character and nobody knows much about him?” Detective Carter said.

  “That’s the case. I also came up empty on the security tapes from the Hilton. I spoke to the security staff and as our luck would have it, their surveillance syst
em was briefly down due to an upgrade.”

  “How about talking to Maria’s brother again?”

  “Waste of time.” Detective Hartford rolled her eyes. “All of a sudden he can’t speak English and he’s the loyal type.”

  “Think he’s hiding something?” Carter asked.

  “I really don’t know. But I do know he’s not too fond on the policia.”

  “That’s not a surprise.”

  “But I know what is.”

  “What?”

  Detective Hartford got up from behind her desk and walked over toward Detective Carter. Detective Carter looked up at her questioningly.

  “What’s that on your finger?” Detective Hartford nodded at her ring.

  “Oh my god! Amanda, I forgot to tell you.”

  “Tell me what?”

  “My friend, I mean, my man Mance . . . we’re engaged!”

  Amanda was happy for her friend and she expressed it genuinely. Volanda promised she would introduce him to her and Amanda could not wait.

  Mance stood in the middle of his packed barbershop explaining why being a pimp was played out. His three main barbers were Stewart, Shasta, and Jay.

  “Man, you just saying that shit because you married or should I say engaged,” Stewart said while cleaning a pair of clippers.

  “That ain’t true. Even if I wasn’t with Volanda, I still wouldn’t be sleepin’ around wit’ every phat’ ass I see. HIV and AIDs is rampant in the streets,” Mance said seriously. “Ain’t no oops, my bad, I got HIV so let me get a shot. I know folks are living longer, but still, ain’t no cure for that shit. If a nigga is silly enough to sleep around with a different woman every other night, then he’s a fool in my eyes. Not to broadcast my personal business, but my woman and I both got tested before we had sex and still, there has to be a lasting trust. People are dying and our race is taking a major hit; it’s serious yo.”

  “What I don’t like is how some men be on the down low,” Shasta added. She was the only female barber at Mance’s shop.

  “Oh yeah,” Mance said, balling up his face. “The Do-Do boy’s—ain’t knockin’ a man for how he wanna do his thang, but when it’s on some secretive shit, that ain’t even right. I’ll show respect to a dude that ain’t hiding it. But for one to do it on the low and put his female partner at a high risk, them dudes get no respect from me and they should be placed with the lowest of all characters.”

  Shasta nodded her head in agreement.

  “You can’t take the prison system out of the problem,” said Jay, who had recently gotten out of prison. “I seen dudes get caught doing whatever with another man and the C.O.’s will lock ’em down for ten to twenty days and turn right around and put the same two back on the same block. They’ll let a homo walk around with some tight ass pants, shoe strings in their hair and won’t say shit. You think they give a fuck about the spread of HIV in the prisons. Hell no. Blacks make up close to eighty percent of the population so you know how it goes. Then, you got that ass kissing Uncle Tom secretary of prisons taking up all the x-rated books. Fuck him!”

  “Jay . . . kids up front,” Stewart said.

  “Oh my bad,” Jay said. “But like I was saying, it’s messed up real bad behind them walls.” Jay shook his head then went back to giving his customer an edge up. Shasta was next to him cutting one of her regular customer’s hair.

  “I think they have a cure for HIV,” Jay said.

  “Man, you still think Tupac is alive!” Stewart laughed.

  “He might be right,” Mance said, reaching for the broom. “Ain’t no telling what the government be keeping secret. You think it’s a coincidence that blacks are the leading case numbers for HIV? I read that we make up around ten to thirteen percent of the population in the U.S., but we make up around fifty percent of new cases reported.”

  “That’s sad,” Shasta said. “Half of the black men are locked up and then on the outside you got all this deceit and deception with this down low mess.” She screwed up her face.

  “You might as well hook up with a female,” Stewart said.

  “I got your female right here!” she said, sticking up her middle finger.

  “What do you plan to do about it?” This was the male teenage customer sitting in Jay’s chair.

  “What can I do?” Mance said, bending down with the dustpan.

  “How about giving out free condoms inside your shop?” the teen suggested.

  Mance swept up the hair and thought about placing condoms in his shop. The pessimistic side of his mind tossed in the image of an angry parent storming up to his shop fussing and cussing about how he was promoting sex. He ran a barbershop, not a health clinic.

  The teen saw doubt on Mance’s face. “At least you’ll be promoting safe sex. I don’t see any of these rappers speaking on safe sex in their videos. Even in these movies. On the real, ain’t nobody trying to practice no platonic based relationships nor abstain from sex, not my generation.” He paused as Jay edged up his dagger shaped sideburns.

  “Alright,” Jay said, letting the teen know he could talk.

  “Anyway, to fight HIV and AID’s, you got to be real about it,” the teen said.

  “You seem to be on point and have a mature head on your shoulder,” Jay said, stepping back to make sure the edge up was straight and sharp. The teen merely nodded his head.

  “How about we give out some HIV pamphlets and stuff,” Shasta suggested.

  “That sounds good,” Stewart said. “Oh, I think 50 cent has his own line of condoms.”

  “Mance, telephone,” the receptionist Dayshea shouted from the front.

  “Tell ’em to hold, I’ll take it in my office,” Mance said as he headed toward the back. Inside his windowless office, he picked up the phone then pressed the blinking button to make the connection. He knew it was not Volanda because she had called him around noon and plus she would have called him on his cell phone.

  “Yeah?” Mance said, taking notice of the time, 3:48 p.m.

  “Whut up, cousin?”

  “Ghetti, where the hell you been?”

  “Things kinda crazy right now, I got this real bad headache.”

  Mance sat down as Ghetti used the coded phrase that he was in trouble with the law.

  “How bad is it?”

  “I think I got a migraine.”

  “Damn. Do you need anything? Let me know what’s wrong.”

  “Has my ex been looking for me?”

  “Nah, she ain’t been by,” Mance replied. Ex was the code word for the police.

  “I’ma play it safe because ain’t no tellin’ when her crazy ass will pop up. I’ma lay low and try to figure out what triggered this headache.”

  “Man, I hope it ain’t serious.”

  “It is, bruh, but I don’t wanna speak on it right now.”

  “I feel ya,” Mance said. Whatever reason his cousin was running from the police it warranted Ghetti to be ‘noid over the phone.

  “I’m straight on my paper, but yo, I’ma holler back, I got to go.”

  “Wait Ghetti!” Mance slowly hung up. He knew the routine that he would now have to wait for Ghetti to reach him. He had no idea where Ghetti was or what was going on. Here he was, happy to be in love and engaged, but now his cousin was on the run from the pops. He thought of Volanda. Her status was a homicide detective and Mance knew Ghetti would not be on no dumb shit by fucking up his life with a murder rap. Mance had no idea which city police was after Ghetti and that was picking at his mind. Leaving his office, he headed back into the barbershop.

  Jay and Stewart were both setting up new customers with the topic still on HIV.

  “Where Shasta?” Mance asked.

  Jay nodded toward the front. Mance looked and was surprised to see Shasta outside kicking it with the teen. A few minutes later, she came back inside with a weird look on her face. She walked directly toward Mance pulling him by his hand toward her chair.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Mance asked. “Dude
ain’t do nothing out of line, did he?” Mance was very protective of Shasta and their platonic friendship was four years strong.

  She shook her head side to side. Getting her words together, she told him about the brief conversation she had outside with the teen that introduced himself as Anthony. She explained how she boldly went out after him, seeking his name and number. Mance saw no harm because Shasta was young and single with two kids at the age of twenty-four. What had her shook was the honesty that Anthony had shared with her. Anthony was only nineteen and HIV positive.

  “Word!” Mance said. “Is he gay?”

  “No, he said he got it from his ex-girlfriend that was cheating on him.”

  “Damn,” Mance said, shaking his head. He looked over at Jay who was cutting hair with the same clippers he had just used on Anthony. Mance was strict on his barbers about cleaning their clippers after each use and they did it without his constant scrutiny. Mance and Shasta kept their doubts silent. By Anthony’s looks alone, she knew she would have gone out with him. He seemed nice and he was cute. After Shasta had broken up with the father of her two kids, she had made it mandatory to practice safe sex while dating. Not once had she ever requested her sex partners to take a HIV test. Today’s experience showed her that HIV was easy to get, but impossible to give back. It mentally shook her up so bad that she asked Mance for the rest of the day off. He said it was okay and told her to call him later tonight. After she left, he took a few customers in his chair.

  His thoughts switched from Volanda to the dilemma that Ghetti was in. Mance left his barbershop around 5:30 p.m., leaving the closing of the barbershop up to Stewart and Dayshea. On the way home, he stopped at a gas station to fill up Volanda’s BMW. He then drove to the mall to buy a copy of John Legend’s new CD. When he was later pulling up in his driveway, his slider phone chimed to let him know he had a call from Volanda. Her special chime was “In the Rain” by Keith Sweat. She called to inform him that she was going to be home late due to a special meeting with the SBI. What placed a smile on his face was how easily she mentioned the word ‘home.’ He told her that he would wait up for her and that he loved her. Two minutes after the call ended, he received a text message from her that read.