“They know we comin’?” Danny asked.
“Yes,” said Jim. “They’re not suspects, but try to get a lead out of them.” Jim walked off, pulling out his cell phone.
“Political shit,” said Erik.
“Society shit,” Danny added. “Five or six kids get smoked every day and I give a fuck about this?”
They walked out of the house carefully as the tech team kept at it. The plastic covering their shoes was cleared of the dirt they’d tracked, then put back into the room.
It was a fact that a killer always left something behind at the scene of the crime. In the age of microscopic evidence, that was more likely than not.
Danny wondered what the team would find in the mess left by the killer, and if it would lead to anything. Beyond his preliminary thoughts about the case, however, he was deeply troubled by the thought of a killer who was so determined to kill and had the knowledge and foresight to thwart a forensic investigation.
7
FIRST YEAR
Danny cruised down Six Mile on Detroit’s west side. The sounds of Busta Rhymes pounded the inside of his car. He passed Greenfield and turned down his street, Forrer. Danny neared his house, a little place with a nice patch of lawn that he hated to mow every week. He paid a kid named Jyrell from around the way to do it for him. He did a lousy job, but it helped to keep the kid out of trouble.
The neighborhood was decent, though in recent years, the influence of crime was more and more obvious. Used to be at night, all you could see on Six Mile, the main road, was a few cars and buses on the street. The street itself had been lined with businesses, party stores, and restaurants. But eventually these nice little places were replaced by fast-food joints, gas stations, and empty storefronts.
In the city proper, a proliferation of fast-food places was the surest sign of despair. There were a lot of single-parent houses and a working mother couldn’t always come home and fix a meal for her kids. The people who make burgers, chicken, and tacos know this, so they set up shop, allowing these families to get a hot meal quickly and cheaply. A newspaper reporter called it “lifestyle need,” a nice term for a family who can’t have a sit-down meal every day. It was really a tragedy, the stark evidence that the world did not always change for the better.
With the fast-food joints came shady brothers in big cars, kids without supervision, and young women with no particular place to go. Crime went up, and suddenly there were bars on windows in what was once a good place to live.
The local neighborhood organizations got together and put an end to most of the illegal activity. The cops came around a little more (thanks in part to Danny and a few well-placed calls) and soon the neighborhood got back to normal. But the fast food still got eaten and some of the night people were around. That always made Danny feel better. He didn’t want to live in a place that was too clean.
Danny went inside his house and called out to his girlfriend, Vinny. Vinny was a dark beauty who was soft-spoken, strong, and fiercely independent.
Danny and Vinny had been partners for a whole year before they slept together. It was all he could do to keep from being all over her in that car. They’d shared the job and each other’s lives, stealing looks, and disapproving of each other’s dates. They used the partnership to feel each other out and test the waters, a sort of professional foreplay. In the end, it was Vinny who had made the first move. They’d gone to her place after work, and after some very weak denials, they’d slept together, making love until the wee hours.
This frenzied lovemaking went on for about a week, every day. It was a while before they took their time and made love the right way. They’d both been thinking about it too much, wanted it too much. In truth, they’d both had a feeling that it would never last and just wanted to enjoy themselves.
But it did last. They partnered three years without incident, if you didn’t count Vinny’s constant nagging about his overzealousness with the criminal element. They didn’t put their affair on display, so the department didn’t say anything about it. People knew, but as long as they didn’t screw up, it was cool.
The relationship was fine until Vinny caught one in an attempted robbery and decided to call it quits and go to law school. Danny didn’t protest. He thought Vinny was more cop than lawyer, but he’d learned a long time ago not to tell her how to manage her future. Most women in general didn’t like that, but it particularly troubled a black woman when some man tried to control her.
Danny learned that there was an animosity between men and women in the black community that is different from the one in mainstream America. It’s not so much a battle of the sexes as it is a war of souls. In a nutshell, black men dealt in a lot of bullshit, and the sisters were not having it. So when Vinny decided to make this major life change, he shut the hell up and let her do it.
But her decision had an effect on the relationship that he didn’t see coming. The first year of law school is a trial by fire. The workload is heavy, and the professors challenge, intimidate, and belittle you in class.
Since she’d started, Vinny had been gone all day and studied all night. She was like a phantom roommate. When Danny’s mother died, Vinny had been right there, like a rock, but when she was sure he was okay, she was off again. Danny didn’t like it, but Vinny was going for a dream and he was not about to whine about not seeing her. They still loved each other, and for now, that was all he really needed.
“Vinny?” he called as he stepped into the living room.
“We’re back here,” he heard her voice call from another room.
He started toward the den, wondering about the we Vinny referred to. They lived alone, so she had to have company. Vinny came from a big family, ten kids, so it could be any one of them. He hoped it wasn’t Renitta, her big sister. Danny disliked her and knew the feeling was quite mutual.
Danny dropped his coat and moved closer to the den. He was hoping he could unload a little of his day on her, but Vinny didn’t much like to talk about police work anymore. So as much as he wanted to talk about the elusive killer, he decided not to say anything.
Danny entered the den to find Vinny at a table covered with books and papers. She looked up and smiled. He scanned past her to the black man who sat next to her, smiling like an old friend.
“Hey,” said Vinny. She came over and put a kiss on his cheek.
“Wha’sup?” asked Danny casually. He was still looking at the man, wondering how long it would be before Vinny told him who he was.
“This is Clarence Stanton, my study partner,” Vinny said finally.
Danny shook Clarence’s hand. His grip was firm, hard even, as though he wanted Danny to know he was a real man. Danny squeezed back just as hard.
“Nice to meet you,” said Clarence.
Clarence was of medium build. He was a good-looking guy, one of those men who cared a little too much about just how handsome he was.
“We got anything to eat?” asked Danny.
“We got that chicken from yesterday,” said Vinny.
“Cool. I’m gonna have a beer. Anybody want one?”
“No, thanks. I don’t drink,” said Clarence quickly.
“I’ll take one,” said Vinny.
Danny got two beers and walked back to Vinny. Clarence was still sitting next to her, but he’d moved farther away.
Danny handed Vinny the beer and gave Clarence a quick smile. He went back into the kitchen and ate his chicken cold. If this was a typical night, Vinny would be up until midnight with her nose in some book, so he didn’t count on any companionship.
Danny finished his meal and watched TV, trying to ignore the occasional laughter that came from the den. He didn’t like Clarence and the implication of “study partner” was not good. But this was why he was seeing Gordon. The old Danny would have been in Clarence’s face, giving him shit just for being close to his woman. But now he would wait it out.
He spent some time going over Fiona’s preliminary report. Then he decided to
go to bed. He said good night to Vinny and Clarence and hit the sack at ten-thirty. He and Erik had to run down a lead tomorrow, and the boss would want to know right away if they’d made any progress.
Danny tried to sleep but it didn’t come for a long time. And when he finally drifted off it was restless, filled with images of the Bakers being murdered, the killer taping up their wounds as they bloated and bled to death in ungodly pain. Then he was awakened by a noise in the room.
“What time is it?” Danny said, searching for the clock.
“Sorry. It’s one A.M.,” she said. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
Vinny took off her top and wiggled out of her jeans. Danny took in her form and was aware that they had not been intimate in a long while. School was putting a damper on that, too.
“You know what class is kicking my ass?” asked Vinny. “Criminal law. Can you imagine that? A cop who can’t hang in that subject. All the shit us cops think we know about law, it’s just that, shit.” She took off her bra.
Vinny slipped on a T-shirt and got into bed. He moved closer to her and slipped his hand under her shirt. In the age before law school, Vinny’s hand would have been moving, too, but tonight nothing happened. He felt her hand move to his and gently tap it.
“I’m tired, Danny. I’m all stressed out.”
“You know what’s good for that?” said Danny. “Sex.”
“Stop it.”
Danny persisted in the foreplay, partly because he was a man but mostly because their sex life had taken a backseat to her new life and that pissed him off. He kept it up until she pushed away from him.
“Come on, Danny. Life ain’t about sex, you know.” Her words were a little sharp.
“Yes, it is,” said Danny, and he saw her face take on an “explain that shit” look. “People make love because it feels good, and because they care for each other. It’s human, Vinny. It’s easy to say a man just wants to get his rocks off, like it’s some selfish shit, but you know it’s more than that with me.”
Vinny shifted in the bed and for a second, Danny thought she was going to get up and walk out, but she didn’t.
“All you ever talk about is school,” Danny continued. He didn’t see any reason not to go for the whole ball of wax now. “And I care because it’s you.” He was quiet for a moment, then, “I caught a murder today, but all I can think about is us.”
Vinny was silent and he got ready for it. They’d never really argued about her school endeavors. They’d only had tense discussions, which usually ended with them apologizing and going to sleep. But he had thrown down a challenge just now, one she couldn’t simply ignore.
“I’m glad to find out how important sex is to you.” She propped herself up on one elbow. “I wouldn’t want your heart to give out because you didn’t get some tonight.”
“Truth is truth.” He smiled at her, knowing that she had already changed her mind. The only thing better than getting it was winning it, he thought.
“Who got killed?” she asked.
“Some rich people. They had big connections, so everybody’s got their drawers in a bunch.”
“How did they die?”
“Shot with a small-caliber gun and the wounds were taped up so that they bled internally.”
“Damn,” said Vinny. “Any leads?”
“None, so far, but you know what I always say. Everybody dies for a reason. Now, we just have to find it.”
He felt her move closer and drape one of her legs over his hip. She kissed his shoulder, and despite the fact that he was still pissed off, he got excited. He thought for a second of not responding, but that thought didn’t last long.
Danny rolled over and kissed her, letting his hand fall to her behind. Her hand slipped quickly down between his legs and she took in a deep breath.
They engaged in their familiar foreplay, and the routine made Danny feel better. He needed to be with her to remind him that he was with her. His mind filled with intense pleasure from this woman he adored, chasing out his newly discovered killer.
8
GROSSE POINTE
Grosse Pointe was one of those towns you grew up hating if you weren’t lucky enough to live there. It was the historical home to many of the richest people in the metropolitan area and the country. They even had the nerve to separate it into little kingdoms: Grosse Pointe Farms, Grosse Pointe Woods, Grosse Pointe Shores. Some wondered why they just didn’t call it Mount Olympus.
The Pointe was also just minutes outside of Detroit. A few miles in distance but a million in affluence, comfort, and power. Danny always felt one city mocked the other, like an old friend who has turned out more successful.
Danny and Erik zipped up Jefferson Avenue, watching the city fade from downtown’s urban renewal, into urban decay, then burst back into the affluence of the suburb.
Danny was playing a tune by a rapper named Trick Daddy. Erik turned it off and replaced it with the oldies station, which was belting out “Call Me” by Al Green.
“See,” said Erik. “Now, that’s music.”
As they left Detroit, Danny felt the city slip out of him. It was like someone peeling off a layer of skin. A city is like an extra set of cells in your body: heavy, and laden with dark forces. Going into the suburbs made you feel lighter, more human as it were, and Danny didn’t like that one bit. He was used to the heaviness of Detroit. It fit him like a suit of armor.
Soon, they were driving down a long, private road toward a large house that had a big circular driveway with several cars in it.
“Jesus, look at this place,” said Erik.
“Yeah,” said Danny. “I’m living the wrong life.”
“Looks like someone’s throwing a party.”
“Then we’re right on time.”
Danny felt himself tense as he thought about their upcoming interview. Danny always thought that anyone with too much money had to fuck somebody else out of it. That was the basic rule of American economics: the rich fed off the poor. This big house was built out of the lives of a million poor people who’d be shot on sight if they came here after dark. Or maybe he was just pissed because he dodged bullets for a living and couldn’t afford the sports package on cable.
Danny and Erik went up to the house and rang the doorbell. An elderly Latino man in a nice suit came to the door soon after. He had that pseudo-military gait that let you know he was a servant and proud of it.
“I’m Carlos,” he said. “You from the police?”
“Yes,” said Danny. “We need to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Long.”
“Follow me,” said Carlos. “I’ll let them know you’re here.”
Danny and Erik followed Carlos into the opulent mansion. Danny had a bad feeling inside. The smell of jasmine and floor cleaner filled his lungs. Clean, he thought. The place was clean, too clean. The only reason for this much clean is to hide the dirt, he mused.
They walked into a huge alcove with marble floors. The walls were covered with paintings, and there were sculptures and tapestries all around them.
Carlos led them into a living room area and Danny could hear voices from the party not far off. He readied himself.
Paul and Inez Long were the soul of affluence and they knew it. Mr. Long was tall, about six three, and Inez looked him right in the eyes in her heels. They were elegant and graceful and had that air about them that never let you forget they were loaded.
“Is this about the Bakers?” asked Paul. His voice was surprisingly high and feminine. For some reason, this made Erik smile a little.
“Yes,” Danny said. “We just need to ask you a few questions.”
“Terrible thing,” said Inez. “They were good people.”
“Please, we’re entertaining right now,” said Paul. “Let’s go into another room.”
Danny was about to ask about their guests and why they needed to be away from them, when one of them walked in. Danny looked over and saw a black man of medium build wearing a nicely tailored suit. He looked fa
miliar, but he could not place him directly.
“Anything wrong?” asked the man. His voice was smooth and rich with bass.
“Hamilton,” said Paul. “These men are here about the Bakers.”
At the mention of the name “Hamilton” Danny knew who he was looking at. Hamilton Grace, the president of the NOAA, a large group of black political organizations. Danny had seen him in the papers and on TV. Now he knew why Paul Long was so nervous. Hamilton Grace meant power. Not the kind of guest you wanted to know that the cops had come calling about a corpse.
“Hamilton Grace,” he introduced himself. “You’re the police, I assume.”
“Yes, sir,” said Danny. “I’m Detective Cavanaugh and this is my partner, Erik Brown.”
“Detectives,” said Hamilton. “This is tragic. The Bakers were good friends of mine. If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.”
“We will, sir,” said Erik.
Danny detected a respect in his partner that had not been present with the Longs.
Hamilton whispered something urgently to the Longs, then excused himself and walked off.
“Hamilton and his sons were visiting,” said Paul. “They live close by. We wanted his sons to meet our daughter, Amy, but she flew the coop. Can’t blame her actually. Maybe parents shouldn’t meddle.”
Hamilton came back to the foyer with two young black men. One was well groomed and dressed in an elegant suit. The other was scraggly-looking and dressed in hip-hop gear: baggy pants, big shirt, and boots. He also had a stud in the side of his nose.
“We’ll come back soon,” said Hamilton. “Thank you for having us.”
“Thanks so much,” said the son in the suit, “and give my best to Amy.”
“Peace,” said the scraggly son, and he walked off. He was all attitude, Danny thought.
Paul followed Hamilton to the door, practically kissing his butt out of the house.
Color of Justice Page 6
