by H Hiller
Avery and I discussed the case, and what I proposed to do about the many loose ends. I filled him in on my early morning conversation with Ned Davis, and he accepted the deal I had made as cheerfully as I did his expressing what he thought of my approaching other departments and agencies without his permission. He stayed on the topic of my taking him out of the loop by asking me about Arnold, and I told him almost everything I had left out of the reports. Telling Avery about the altercations in the French Market and the one when I was driving to my mother’s house no longer mattered. Avery was seriously displeased that I had not mentioned being followed by Arnold and his brother, but understood how I had missed the potential for what had just happened. The case had worn him out, and listening to Bumper’s confessions about the killing of my father, Avery’s best friend and mentor, and the corruption of Agent Gabb was more than he bargained for when he told me to look into the dog attack. We were both more than ready to find out if what I had promised Conroy would be a solution we could all live with would actually “match public perceptions.”
I followed my boss to my mother’s house in my own car, which spared us any further discussions and let us each compose ourselves for what came next. Avery parked behind my mother’s Mercedes-Benz sedan and Tulip’s Porsche Cayenne. I parked by the boat house and walked to the house while Avery waited for me. I looked across the narrow strait of water at Fort Pike and imagined my father’s ghost was there waving at me. I did not want this to be my thought every time I came to see my mother, or for her to live out her days in the shadow of the knowledge that her husband’s remains were lying unclaimed in a nearby wetlands.
We entered the living room unannounced. My mother and Roger were sitting on the sofa while she read a story to Parker. Amanda, Georgia, and Tulip were working on a jigsaw puzzle in the kitchen. I had phoned Tulip before I went to interview Bumper and explained she was likely to have to take one or both of these women on as clients by day’s end. Taz was chained up on a long cable run just beyond the patio. Roger took our arrival as his cue and asked Parker to help him go outside and tend to Taz.
Roger had asked my permission to adopt the dog, and had explained to me that there was an operation that would keep it from hearing the high frequencies that triggered its attacks. I anticipated only perfunctory arguments before everyone was happy to wash their hands of the dog. Roger led my mother and Parker on a walk on the empty boat slip, and well away from the house.
Amanda came to me as we entered the house and gave me a hug. I introduced Amanda to Chief of Detectives Avery, squeezing her hand reassuringly at the same time.
“You look like hell. What happened?” Amanda asked and kissed my cheek.
“I got Bumper's confession on tape. So that part’s over.”
We held one another for a moment before she broke away and settled back into the chair where she had been sitting. Avery and I took seats at the large table and faced Amanda, Georgia, and my sister. I introduced Avery to Georgia and he exchanged greetings with my sister.
“What happens now?” Tulip was speaking now on behalf of her clients.
“Well Amanda’s name shouldn't be coming up at all.”
Tulip glanced at Avery and he nodded silent agreement.
I went on. “Biggie is dead. Everyone wants to believe a dog killed him, so we can just let them go on doing so. Cisco is pleading guilty to all of the charges related to the dog fighting, and will testify against anyone we can tie to him from his computer records. Agent Gabb, who was supervising the undercover operation, will face some pretty stiff internal disciplinary action from the FBI, and be lucky if he's only fired. He has some things to negotiate with, but hopefully not enough to avoid prison.”
“What will happen to Bumper?” Georgia needed some assurance that this boogey man was not going to get her after all.
“He’s dead.”
The three women all turned to look at me as though I were responsible.
Avery fielded the explanation. “A young man shot him after he was taken into custody.”
“Was it that boy who was following you?”
Avery frowned at me. “I really appreciate how Amanda knew about him before I did.”
Tulip refocused the conversation. “How much trouble are my clients in?”
“What have they told you?”
“Amanda has explained the probability of legal issues with her adoption and about the payments to Biggie, and Georgia said she knew about the plot to kill Biggie with the dog. I knew things were probably pretty bad, but that Georgia was willing to kill Amanda’s extortionist is a lot to wrap my head around.”
I glanced at Avery, whose only input was a slight shrug, and then I looked at my sister. She started to open her mouth, but I motioned for her to stay quiet because it would have ruined what I came to say.
I would have handed the case back to Avery the day Biggie died if I had known what I would eventually uncover: The blackmail payments, Parker’s questionable adoption that could possibly lead to Logan’s disbarment but definitely to a feeding frenzy for the gossip magazines at Amanda’s expense, the probability that Georgia orchestrated the murder of two unpleasant men, a slew of damaged FBI careers, and the discovery of how and why my father had disappeared. I looked my sister in the eye and told her what Avery and I had come up with as a means of balancing justice with preserving the lives of people who had simply been caught up in events that had spun out of control.
“First off, Chief Avery will drive Georgia to the Federal building and turn her over to the ATF,” I began. The women looked at me in varying degrees of confusion, Tulip most of all. I addressed Georgia directly and explained what she needed to do. “I have a list of firearms which Biggie said had been stored in the storage locker you admitted to renting. If you turn the list over to the ATF and agree to testify against the people you say have them now they will put you into a witness protection program. It will make you safe from the boyfriend you say has continued to threaten you.”
“But then she can’t have any contact with her family,” Amanda immediately objected.
“My concern is for the physical safety of everyone at this table,” I said and she quieted down and accepted the apparent necessity of protecting her cousin. It wasn’t Georgia’s safety that had inspired the deal I had made with Agent Davis earlier in the day. This was the surest way I knew to put distance between Georgia and her famous cousin and Parker.
Amanda was shocked, but Georgia was stunned. Georgia was the most fully aware of the range of charges for which I could have put cuffs on her slender wrists. Avery had not been very pleased with this deal but he was willing to get credit for solving the ATF’s dead end case. I gave Georgia a detailed explanation of what she needed to tell Agent Davis, and that she needed to limit her story to what I told her to admit to having done. Hopefully Georgia would wait until Amanda was in the clear before she told anyone that the guns were in exchange for John’s murder. If that blew her deal and they decided to prosecute for the murder then that would happen way across the country from my jurisdiction and Avery wouldn’t have a thing to explain.
“So who gets charged in Biggie’s murder?” Tulip was left wondering.
“My final report will show that Biggie died because of the dog’s attack and not a murder conspiracy. Cisco took payment for one pit bull but delivered a different one. The prosecutor can add fraud charges to his other charges if they need to in order to get a good sentence. He can say he had no idea the dog would do what it did and I don’t think anyone will argue with him.”
“So it wasn't even the dog he bought that attacked him?” Amanda wondered aloud. She looked at me as though I might answer the question. “Why would anyone have switched dogs?”
“I assume it was because the real Taz wouldn’t have made the attack. It was a breeding dog, and Cisco figured to use it for that himself.” She didn’t want to hear the real story in full.
The women unconsciously glanced at Avery. He held his ston
y silence.
“Why would you do this?” Amanda took Georgia’s hand, but her question was addressed to me. There was still visible disappointment on her face that I had decided to send Georgia into virtual oblivion. Strong arguments could be made that in Georgia’s mind she was actually trying to protect Amanda and Parker. “If you are going to ignore Biggie being murdered, why can’t you ignore that she did something bad with a few guns? I may never see my cousin again.”
“Georgia played a part in a lot of bad things she hasn’t told you about, obviously far more than just helping Bumper blackmail you. What I have worked out for her is better than any plea deal she would get on any criminal charges.”
Georgia looked at me before she answered. “He’s right. Maybe I could use this as a real fresh start.”
Amanda sighed and stood up. “Well, that's just great. Now what am I supposed to do?”
Avery came to my defense. “Cooter has been doing what he can to keep you and your son out of the papers. This might be a good time for everyone to come clean, don't you think?”
“You mean about the adoption?”
“Exactly. You should control the story. Don't keep letting it control you.”
Amanda bit her lip but nodded. We sat quietly for a few minutes, each of us with plenty to talk about but little left to say. I finally stood up and Georgia started to rise as well, but I waved for her to sit back down.
“Avery will take you to the Federal Building when you’re ready. He may need my help making sense out of all this, but everything is going to work out best for everyone here.”
Amanda took my hand and I followed her onto the patio. We kissed. I did not bring up the hurtful comments Tulip had put in her mouth while trying to entice Bumper to sign the contract. I did not want to believe her affections were just a means of using me to keep Bumper and Gabb at bay but I instinctively knew we had reached the end of our time together. Still, if things had to end, I wanted to believe we parted because being together would remind Amanda of all the bad things that had happened lately and not because her affections for me never even existed. I was likely kidding myself, but I liked feeling attractive to the opposite sex and not thinking of myself as a collection of internal and external wounds needing comfort in the night.
Amanda wrapped her arms around me. “I know you’re just doing what you think is best, but you’re costing me a damn good nanny.”
“The world is full of people who would love to take care of Parker that have better sense about the people with whom they get involved.”
Amanda shrugged sadly and pecked my cheek. “Is this when one of us says we shouldn’t see each other for a while?”
“Or it could be where you say you are grateful for everything I have done and swear you have never been so in love.” I had every intention of making a joke.
“I am grateful, even though you made a mess of things.” I accepted her version of what I had done with the various disasters that had been swirling around her long before I arrived.
“Tell me something.” I had her sit beside me on one of the lounge chairs. “Did you even start to love me, or was I just a wall you could put between yourself and Bumper?”
“I wanted to love you.” Amanda pressed a finger to my lips before I could say anything. She could tell that what I had heard was not what she meant. “I just can’t be with someone so comfortable with violence. I know it’s part of what you do for a living, but it’s also become a part of you. I adopted Parker to get him away from people like that, and I can hardly bring you into his life just because you’re one of the good guys. All that space in your heart that you want me to fill is already full of other things you need to work out.”
“And what about your heart?” I did wonder how she was going to fill the vacuum she had been letting others control for so long.
“My heart is fine. I just need to stop filling up the rest of my life with distractions and excuses. I probably need to be a much better judge of people and situations, don’t you agree?”
“You’ll lead a happier life.” I admitted. We had a long last kiss.
Amanda went back inside and Tulip joined me on the seat a moment later. Avery watched us with sadness on his face but remained seated and went back to explaining the legal process to Georgia.
“Bill said there is something else I should know.”
I took a deep breath and sat close enough to grab her if she fainted or decided she needed to throw things when I told her what Bumper had said about our father’s death.
“It seems the FBI has been sitting on some knowledge about our father’s killing. He was shot by one of their Agents to cover up the murder of some felons who were rounded up in the dead of night and executed right after Katrina.”
“Oh my God.” Tulip gasped but seemed to be holding herself together. “Have they arrested him?”
“The man who told me this story is the one who was killed today. The boy that shot him may have been the son of one of those other victims.” That possibility had come to me as we were driving to the house and I remembered Arnold’s story about his father’s disappearance. “The Agent he implicated is likely in FBI custody by now.”
“I wish I could be the one to shoot the son-of-a-bitch. That would be justice as far as I am concerned.”
“Sorry, you can’t.” Tulip looked at me and we both laughed at the sudden change in her position on capital punishment. “Christ, little sister, you’re starting to think like I do.”
“I’m sure dad’s made his peace wherever he is.”
I did not tell her how close that actually was. She draped an arm across my slumped shoulders. “Are you going to stay around? I remember that you only agreed to come here to solve this.”
“I think I might.” I decided the matter at that very moment. “Had I wrapped this up right away I would already be gone. I kind of like my job and it’s nice being part of rebuilding the city, and it’s great to be part of the family again. Mother notwithstanding.”
“Well it’s nice having my big brother around again,” she said and hugged me tight. “Especially when you bring me so much business.”
I held her until she was ready to tell our mother what I had just told her. I could have been the one to tell my mother, but the loss and its resolution was something the two of them shared far more than I did with either of them. I watched from the kitchen and held my silence as the two women spoke then came back into the house together. My mother walked directly to her bedroom without looking at me or Avery. I was sure I heard my mother crying a moment later, but also knew to leave her to her grief until she was ready to talk to me again on her own. What I had told Tulip about staying in New Orleans was the truth. I had been born here, but my actual growing up had occurred hundreds and thousands of miles away. There had been boarding schools and college in the years most people make life-long friendships and connections to places. This had been followed by years of military and professional assignments that instilled the habit of never becoming too attached to any one place or person.
New Orleans, at some point in the past couple of years, had reminded me that it is far less of a place to live than it is a way to live. The constant stimulation of one’s senses, and the way its history and culture creep into your soul like a kudzu vine, makes it a hard place to leave once it has a hold on you. It was also finally feeling a lot less like Baghdad.
THIRTY SEVEN
I sat at Cafe du Monde two weeks later, having beignets and a cup of coffee with Katie Reilly before she went to work. Avery had joined us and was trying to keep his necktie clean. He hated my practiced ability to keep the powdered sugar falling from the fried dough puffs off of my clothes. He showed me a small story buried inside the local section of the Times-Picayune about a senior FBI agent who had died in a one car crash near Irish Bayou. It was Jim Gabb, Bumper’s corrupt supervising agent.
The story claimed he had been reported missing two days earlier and that the accident just happened to occu
r on the highway traversing Irish Bayou. Avery told me that Conroy had reported that Gabb’s autopsy showed a few injuries inconsistent with the crash.
“I don’t suppose you have anything I might tell the FBI about any of that.”
“Good hunch.”
“Well Conroy wants you to have this.” Avery passed a slim manila folder across the table. I didn’t need to open it to know the SAC had decided not to test my patience about the notes on the investigation into my background.
“I think you’ll end up paying a fairly steep price for embarrassing Conroy,” Katie joined the conversation. “He has already informed our office that his Agents are going to reopen investigations into any officer-involved shootings by NOPD during Katrina that they can find. The list he gave doesn’t include what Bumper said about your father’s disappearance.”
“Is there anything besides the Danziger Bridge and Henry Glover shootings?” I wondered. Avery and Katie exchanged glances. They had been here in the horrible days immediately after the levees collapsed, taking civil order with them.
“I hate to think what else there may be,” Avery admitted and shifted his gaze to his food.
A week later I read an article in Offbeat magazine about a couple of young out-of-town entrepreneurs purchasing Biggie's recording studio and moving the operation to Atlanta in the months to come. The pair of thirty-something Black men made a pledge to build on the model Biggie had set forth. Biggie was fondly remembered for his promotion of local music and his efforts to get kids off the street, and that his life was tragically cut short by the pit bull attack. The magazine’s editor was also the one to finally put into print the bad joke that Biggie had been in a “dog-eat-dog business.” Logan had shredded the forged will so Biggie’s grandmother, rather than the son he had put up for adoption, became the default beneficiary of his estate. Hopefully she had sold it for enough to move out of the projects.
