Private Deceptions

by Glenn, Roy

  "It’s early and I’m not in the mood for games."

  "I know she died of what appeared to be a cocaine overdose, but the police didn’t find any traces of drugs in her system. I know you and her were roommates and that you most likely found the body and called the police. I know you used to be a cop." I raised my cuffed hands. "You quit the force to go back to school. How’s that going by the way?"

  "About Pamela." She lowered the gun, but just a little.

  "I know her and Mrs. Childers used to work together at a bank in Kansas City. I know that she came to New York from Kansas City to work for Manhattan Bank. But what I’d like to know from you, is who she was, how and why she died, and who killed her?"

  "What makes you think I could tell you that?"

  "Well, your roommate was most likely murdered in your apartment. You called the police, but you didn’t wait around to talk to them. Then you break into the crime scene, take your stuff, and come out here. If I wasn’t convinced by all that, then the fact that I’m wearing handcuffs and you’re pointing a gun at me, pushed me over the edge."

  "Is that a fact?"

  "Was it you who found the body?"

  "Yes."

  "Why didn’t you stay?"

  "Who hired you?"

  "Jake Rollins sister."

  "Which one? The wannabe lady or the tramp?"

  "The lady. She used to work at the bank in Kansas City with Pamela."

  "What makes you think Pamela knew anything about Jake’s disappearing?"

  "I’ve got pictures in my jacket pocket of her at Jake’s party."

  Felicia stood up and walked toward me. I was smiling, enjoying the view until she put the gun to my head. "Don’t even think about doing anything stupid. I don’t mind killing you."

  "Believe me, that wasn’t what I was thinking about." Felicia carefully removed the pictures from my pocket and returned to her spot.

  She rested the gun on the table and glanced at one of the pictures. "LaShawn. I knew the girl was wild, but damn." She glanced at the rest and put them down.

  I made note of the fact that even though she had only glanced at them, Felicia knew it was LaShawn and not Pamela right away. "She died two weeks ago under the same circumstances as Pamela. Pamela had Jake’s card on her when the police found her body."

  "How do you know that?"

  "The police told me."

  "You’re working with the police?"

  "Unofficially. I guess you can say that. My guess is they weren’t getting away with linking Pamela to Jake so they threw me the bone."

  "Why you?"

  "Other than Mrs. Childers being my client, I know a little something about the people involved in this."

  "What’s that supposed to mean?"

  "How long were you a cop?"

  "Four years. Why?"

  "You’ve heard of Mike Black?"

  "Vicious Black."

  There it is again. Why does every woman say his name like that?

  "Who hasn’t heard of him?"

  "He’s an old associate. Reggie owes him a favor too."

  "So you used to run with Vicious Black, huh?"

  "Yes," I said, with a newfound sense of pride. "But not for the last ten years."

  "Why not?"

  "Joined the army."

  "So now you’re a private investigator and the police have been feeding you information." Felicia stood up again. I was hoping she was coming to take the cuffs off. They were starting to hurt, but she picked up the gun, walked toward the window, and looked out. "I didn’t think the police had anything." She turned around and came back toward me. It produced the same response as it did the first time. She stood before me and raised the gun. "How do I know I can trust you? I mean how do I know that whoever killed Pamela didn’t send you?"

  "Then you do think she was murdered?"

  "I know she was murdered. Pamela didn’t do drugs."

  "But that’s not why you think she was murdered. Why’d you leave before the cops came?"

  "Other than that innocent look in those brown eyes. Tell me why I should trust you?"

  "I can’t think of any right now, but if I had to come up with something," I paused to give it the desired effect. "First of all, I wouldn’t have come here alone. I wouldn’t have let you take me without any resistance. And if I had come here to kill you, I would have just blasted you at the door."

  Felicia smiled at me for the first time. She had a pretty smile. Then she laughed a little, but I guess it wasn’t enough to make her take the cuffs off. She simply returned to her spot and put the gun down. I was happy for that much.

  "Mind if I ask you a question, Ms Hardy?"

  "Go ahead."

  "You just glanced at those pictures."

  "So."

  "You can barely see her face in most of them. How did you know it was LaShawn?"

  "LaShawn always wears her hair like that."

  "So does Pamela."

  "No, she doesn’t."

  "In one of those pictures. The one with two of them."

  Felicia picked up the pictures and fanned through them until she found it. "This one?"

  "That’s the one. See, same ponytail. And the picture I got of the two of you out of Pamela’s room. By the way, your picture doesn’t do you justice, but she’s wearing a ponytail."

  "That doesn’t mean that’s how she always wore it. Both of those pictures were taken on the same day. I remember that day. She was going to Jake’s birthday party and she didn’t have time to get her hair fixed. I told her with her hair pulled back like that she looked like LaShawn."

  "Why didn’t you go to the party?"

  "I knew the type of people that would be at any party Gee was throwin’. Pamela would always ask me if I wanted to go, but I was a cop. I wouldn’t be caught dead up in there."

  "Mind if I ask you another question?"

  "I’ll save you the trouble. No, to my knowledge Pamela wasn’t laundering money. That is what you and the police want to know, isn’t it? What is your name, again?"

  "Nick Simmons. I’m pleased to meet you. And yes, that is what I was going to ask you."

  "Cops think so?"

  "I got that impression."

  "That’s why I don’t want to talk to them. Once they figured out she was murdered and it was drug related, they’d start thinking money laundering and then they’d start looking at me. I’m sure someone has gone through my file and my arrest records looking to link me to this shit. And if they really want to, they’ll find something, whether its there or not."

  "Do you think that your leaving the way you did helped?" But Felicia didn’t answer me.

  "I used to tell her all the time that it didn’t look good for her to be in her position at the bank and be associating with a known drug dealers wife, and goin’ to their parties. But she would always say that for that to be a problem, she’d have to be doing something wrong, and her record at the bank would speak for itself."

  "You mind if I ask you another question?"

  "You don’t have to ask me that every time you want to ask me something. Go ahead."

  "Have you had breakfast yet?"

  "No." Felicia let out a little laugh.

  "I haven’t either. And I’m hungry, so can we finish this conversation over breakfast? I promise I’ll behave myself even without handcuffs."

  Felicia looked at me as if I had lost my mind. She picked up her gun and walked toward me again. She stood in front of me, not speaking. As if she was deciding right then how it was goin’ to be between us. She looked into my eyes. I locked my eyes in hers. She exhaled and left the room.

  "Shit," I said quietly.

  For a second there, I thought we were having a moment. You know, the kind that James Bond always has when the girl kisses and then releases him. I felt the pain in my wrists. "Live in reality, Nick. This ain’t no fuckin’ movie." I didn’t think she was going to kill me, so I didn’t try to leave. I couldn’t, not after coming all this way. She knows
something. Something major, and she was scared because she knew it.

  Twenty minutes later, Felicia returned to the room. She had changed into black jeans and heels. She still had on a tee shirt, but this one fit her. She had a holster on and had traded her 44 for a .9. "You better be real." She leaned forward and unlocked the cuffs.

  "Thank you. They were starting to hurt," I said rubbing my wrists. I stood up and started walking toward the table to collect my hardware.

  "Hold up," she said, as I reached. "We haven’t gotten that far yet."

  "No guns, huh."

  "For the time being, I think it’s best if I carry the gun. But I tell you what." She moved closer to me. "Pick one."

  "One?"

  "Yes. One. And I’ll hold on to that. If you’re a good boy and you don’t give me any trouble, I may let you earn it back."

  "Either one of the .9’s will do." Felicia stuck my gun in her jacket pocket and left the other two on the table. I stood for a second, looking at my guns. I wasn’t getting a good feeling about leaving them.

  "You coming?"

  I turned around and she was pointing my .9 at me.

  "Yeah, I’m coming."

  I walked out of the house feeling naked. I tried, but couldn’t remember the last time I went some place unarmed.

  "Which one is yours?" She stopped and put my gun back in her pocket. "No, let me guess. First time in LA?"

  "Yes." I stopped and frowned.

  "Blue convertible." She was playing me like a tourist. Which I was, but she didn’t have to play me. I unlocked her door and she got in. As soon as I got in she said, "Go ahead and drop the top. I know you want to."

  She was right, so I dropped the top.

  Once we pulled off, Felicia took my gun out of her pocket and rested it on her lap. "Where are we going?" I asked.

  "Simply Wholesome on Sousean, make a left here."

  We arrived at Simply Wholesome and were promptly seated. We sat quietly as our waitress arrived to take our orders. She filled our coffee cups and left us.

  "You never did answer my question."

  "Which one? I haven’t answered several of your questions."

  "I noticed. How is school going?

  "It was goin’ fine until all this came down."

  "What were you taking?"

  "Law school. I’ve been meaning to do it for years, but I got caught up in the job. Out there in the streets doin’ the job."

  "Do you miss it?"

  "Not as much as I used to. I missed the feeling you get when you knock on a door or walk up on a car."

  "What’s gonna happen next. I know what you mean. You’re excited and apprehensive all at the same time."

  "That’s right, you’re ex-army. What did you do?"

  "Special operations unit."

  "Trained killer. Should I be scared?"

  "No, you have the guns, remember." Felicia laughed. "What turned you? What made you decide to go back to school?"

  "One day I had finally seen enough. Did enough. Too much."

  "Sounds like you got a story."

  "You don’t want to hear about that."

  "Yes I do, Felicia. I love a good story."

  "Well, I’m not sure I want to tell you."

  "What? You think it will scare me. I don’t scare easy."

  "No kiddin’." Felicia took a playful swing at me. "You could probably tell me stories that make mine sound like a church social."

  "Maybe."

  "I’ll try and stick to the highlights, so stop me if I bore you."

  "I’m sure I won’t need to."

  "Alrighty then. I’ve told this story so many times, one more time ain’t goin’ hurt. Officer Morgan and I, Morgan, that was my partner, we responded to a domestic disturbance call. When we got there, Officer Morgan knocked on the door and identified himself. They opened up on us right then." She giggled. "I mean, the suspects began firing at us through the door."

  "All right now." I kept thinking Felicia was much too pretty to be a cop. "Try to keep it real for me."

  "Anyway." Felicia cut her eyes at me.

  "Why’d they just start blastin’ like that?"

  "Drug deal, in progress." She had pretty eyes, very expressive eyes. "I was goin’ to call for back up, but Morgan kicked in the door and went in. By the time I got in there, one of them was tryin’ to gather up the drugs from the table. He fired at me. I returned fire and hit him with two shots in his chest. I looked for Morgan; he was runnin’ up the stairs. He yelled, ‘They’re goin’ out the back!’ I ran down the hallway. I could see the back door was open. Then I saw someone run out, but they were gone by the time I got there. I started back up the hall, when one of them came runnin’ out. I shot him, kicked his gun away, and kept moving up the hallway. I yelled for Morgan, but he didn’t answer. Shots were still bein’ fired. I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. When I cleared the hallway, I saw one on the steps. He shot at me, and I ducked back in the hallway. I shot back blindly. I hit him in the back before he got out the door. There was still shooting upstairs. I moved toward the stairs. I looked up and saw Morgan chasing one down the stairs. I fired at him, he went down, and I took cover to reload.

  "After awhile, Morgan came and sat next to me. It was over. I killed four people that day, Nick. Morgan killed three more. We just sat there looking at each other. Both of us knew we’d had enough. There was an investigation and it was ruled a clean shoot. But it was ugly. Very ugly, what I had to go through before they cleared me. Two days later I quit. Morgan quit about a month after that."

  The waitress returned with our meals. We ate, talked, and laughed at this and that. I liked her laugh. I was starting to like her. Picture that, me liking somebody who wasn’t married.

  "You know what, Nick? You don’t look like the type that used to run with Vicious Black."

  "I don’t?"

  "No, you don’t.’ Felicia smiled at me.

  "Just what does that type look like?"

  "I don’t know, I just know you don’t look like it."

  "I guess that makes us even. I think your way to pretty to be a cop."

  Felicia smiled, but looked away this time. "I actually met him once a couple of years ago."

  "Who; Black?"

  Felicia simply nodded her head.

  "Really, where was that?"

  "At the police station; where else? When I was a rookie. I had just gotten off my shift and was on my way out of the building. There was this man walking in front of me. There was something about the way he walked. So confident, so regal, it was almost like he was saying, I command all I survey."

  "That’s Black."

  "I remember thinking that it struck me as being odd because most times when people leave the precinct, they walk out like they’re beaten, defeated and glad to be out of there. But not him, he walked with his head held high and his shoulders back. And his stride commanded your attention and respect. Then he stopped and turned around and said ‘That fragrance you’re wearing, is it bora, bora?’ I told him that it was and he told me that it smelled beautiful on me. He introduced himself and asked me if I worked there? I said Yes, I’m a cop. He said that’s a shame. So I asked him, ‘Why? Don’t you like cops?’ he said as a rule, no I don’t. And I can’t make an exception, even for very pretty cops like you. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms Hardy. And then he walked away."

  "That’s Black," I said and smiled.

  "The next day I asked my training officer, Dan Cavanaugh, now that was a piece of work." Felicia dropped, and then shook her head. Having the pleasure of meeting Cavanaugh I knew what she meant. "Anyway, I asked Cavanaugh about Black and he told me this story about how he was called to a domestic disturbance at Black’s apartment. One of his neighbors called the police, ’cause some woman was out in the hall beating on his door and yelling and screaming. But by the time Cavanaugh and his partner arrive on the scene, the woman is gone and Black is there in the hall with some guy. So Black tells him that he talked to the
woman and he was able to convince he to go home quietly. But Cavanaugh says he didn’t like Black’s attitude, so he tells he partner to go on back to the car. Well when he turns around, Cavanaugh gives Black and the other guy one in the gut. He said they took it, not because they were afraid of him or anything, but Black was just showing respect for his authority," Felicia gave me her version of a girlish giggle. "Well that’s my Vicious Black story. I don’t know how true it is, but that’s my story."

  "Well, Felicia, that’s not exactly true."

  Felicia sat up straight, "Its not?"

  "No, its not."

  "How do you know?"

  "I was the other guy in the hall."

  "Really."

  "Really. That night Black called me and told me about the woman. Black told he that he came out and tried to talk to her, but it only made it worst. He told me he had something goin’ on and didn’t have time to deal with her. So he told me and Freeze to come get her before somebody called the cops."

  "What was wrong? Did he have another woman in there?"

  "No. He had something goin’ on in there, but there was no woman involved. Anyway, when we got there she’s still in the hall, raisin’ hell. Freeze walks up on her, puts his hand over her mouth, and carries her outside. I knocked on the door and let Black know that it was taken care of. I went inside and talked to him and Bobby for a minute, then I walked out with Black. That’s when your boy Cavanaugh gets there. Black did explain things just like you said. And Cavanaugh did say, I don’t like your attitude and sent his partner back to the car to wait, just like you said."

  "At least that part is true."

  "Yeah, but that’s where the story changes. After his partner leaves, Black went in the apartment and came back with an envelope and gave it to Cavanaugh."

  "Cavanaugh?"

  "Cavanaugh."

  "Cavanaugh, huh? I guess you just never know."

  As much as I was enjoying the conversation I worked it back to the business at hand. "How long did you know Pamela?"

  "We were play pen buddies."

  "Really?"

  "We go back a long way. I grew up in that house and Pamela lived three doors down."

  "What was her involvement with Jake?"

  "As far as I know, they were just friends. She met him at one of Gee’s parties. There wasn’t anything physical, if that’s what you’re asking."