Smoke-Filled Rooms: A Smokey Dalton Novel

by Kris Nelscott

  “Not till now.” She opened her hands. “My grandmother lives in Mississippi. My parents moved here after the war. I seen what it’s like down there. If the FBI wants a black man and his son, I gotta be suspicious—of the government.”

  “But your cousin is a cop.”

  She nodded. “He’s a good one, too. He’s proud of what he does. But it’s what he does, Bill, not what I do.”

  “So why ask at all?”

  She put her hands on her knees. I could sense her discomfort. She clearly wasn’t in situations like this often. “Because that man was watching you. My cousin said that outside agitators got followed, but this looked like something else. Then there was that wanted information.” She took a deep breath, as if she were steeling herself. “I like you, Bill. I don’t want to be part of something that happens to you. I thought it would be better if I warned you.”

  “So that I’d come and have a root beer with you?” I said as lightly as I could. I had already made this too big a deal, I could see that now. I had to change it, if possible.

  She licked her lower lip, and then her gaze fell on mine. “Or kiss me.”

  I reached out and cupped my right hand against her cheek. Her skin was warm and soft. “You don’t know me, Marvella.”

  She leaned into me. “Since when do you need to know someone to kiss them?”

  The odd thing was that I wasn’t really tempted. I thought of kissing her the way I weighed other options—the political benefits, the risks, the possibilities. Attraction didn’t seem to be part of the package. Friendship did, though.

  I leaned in, meaning to kiss her the way I hadn’t kissed a woman since Laura in Memphis. Instead, my lips found Marvella’s cheek. Even that felt like a betrayal.

  She bowed her head. “You’re married, aren’t you?”

  If only it were that simple. “Involved.” I wasn’t sure if it was a lie or not.

  “She’s not here, though.”

  “No.”

  “What kind of woman leaves a man alone for months?”

  The trustworthy kind. The one who was, even as we spoke, guarding a child with her life.

  “Marvella,” I said softly, “you’re probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  She glanced at the sculptures. Obviously their creator had told her the same thing. “But?”

  “No buts. You’ve done me a great kindness. I owe you.”

  “I gave you a way to pay me.”

  “I don’t pay like that.” I paused, my hand still on her warm skin. “But I do return favors. And I never forget one.”

  She took my hand away from her cheek. She ran her fingers over mine, stopping at the calluses and scars as if each held special interest for her.

  “Maybe there is something you can do for me,” she said.

  I resisted the urge to pull my hand back. “What’s that?”

  “I heard you caught some thieves at the Hilton.”

  “Really?”

  She nodded. “It was in the Defender, did you know that?”

  The Chicago Defender was the premier black newspaper. I’d even read copies of it when I lived in Memphis.

  “No,” I said, stifling my annoyance. No matter how hard I tried, I always seemed to get noticed. “I hadn’t known that.”

  “A friend of mine needs some help. Her son is missing.”

  I let out a small sigh. Maybe Marvella was helping out her cousin the cop. Maybe she was investigating me.

  This time, I did pull my hand away—gently, trying to make the movement seem natural. “She should go to the police.”

  “She has,” Marvella said. “They don’t care.”

  “She should go to your cousin.”

  “She did. He’s doing what he can, but he’s on a twelve-hour shift for the next two weeks. He won’t have time to help her.”

  “I don’t have much time either, Marvella.” As the words came out, I regretted them. I wanted to close the door to any possibility at all that I could do detective work. “Besides, I’m a security guard, not a police officer.”

  “The Defender said you did so well that the Hilton staff praised you to the police. A lot of people said you were better than the pros.”

  I smiled at her. “Don’t believe everything you read, Marvella.”

  “The boys were talking about it the other day. I heard them. Your son says you’re some kind of hero.”

  I’d heard Jimmy fighting with the Grimshaw boys over me once. They thought I was a deadbeat because I didn’t have a home or, at that time, a job. Jimmy had used strong language then too. Just because I hadn’t heard him defend me since didn’t mean the teasing had stopped.

  “I was in Korea. That’s probably what he means.”

  “It sounded more serious than that,” Marvella said. “He said you saved his life.”

  “I got him away from a bad home situation, Marvella. That’s all.”

  Her lips thinned. She rubbed her hands over her knees. “You said you owed me a favor, and I’m asking. I have a friend who’s frantic because her son is missing. She needs help and she’s not getting it. I don’t know where else to go.”

  “There’s got to be detectives around here—”

  “White ones.”

  “People in the community, Marvella. I’m going to be on long shifts this week as well. I won’t have time—”

  “Talk to her, Bill. Please? Or help her find someone to look for her son. She’s going crazy.”

  Missing persons were the worst kind of cases. Most of the missing had disappeared on purpose. The rest were either dead or wanted to die. This one was even worse because I didn’t entirely trust Marvella. Her cousin may have set this up so that he could find out if I was one Smokey Dalton, odd jobs man and sometime detective.

  “How old is the boy?” I asked, knowing I was hooked.

  “Fourteen,” she said. “But he looks older.”

  “Has he been in trouble before?”

  “Not that I know of, but I’m not there all the time. All I know is that she’s really worried.”

  I sighed. “Does she live here?”

  “Down the block. Can you see her?”

  If I was going to find the boy, I would have to start soon. I only had two free days.

  “I suppose,” I said.

  Marvella smiled at me. “Good,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  * * *

  As I walked with Marvella down the block, I realized this wasn’t how I planned to spend my afternoon. I had to check in with Laura, and I was going to have lunch with Franklin. Instead, I was starting on a case, a case I didn’t know how to get out of.

  Marvella led me into an apartment building much like the one we’d left. Only this one wasn’t as well cared for. It hadn’t been painted in a long time, and the front stoop sagged. The main door hung crookedly. Any determined thief could have opened it with a crowbar, no matter how many locks were on it. The fact that no one had tried told me how impoverished the residents were.

  The door had been left open. I didn’t know if that was because it always stood like this or if it were an accident. Marvella opened it as if she came here often.

  I followed her inside. The hallway was stiflingly hot. The overhead lights were out, and it was dim even though it was the middle of the day. There were no windows here. I hadn’t realized that places this depressing existed only a block away from ours. It showed me again how little I knew about the city.

  Marvella went to the end of the hall and knocked on a closed door. She rocked back and forth as she waited, then glanced at me. No one answered.

  She knocked again, and finally called, “Grace? I brought some help.”

  Still no answer. She held up a hand, then disappeared out the back door of the building. I could hear her knocking on windows and calling for her friend.

  After a moment, she returned. “I bet she’s out looking for him. Can you wait?”

  I shook my head. “I have things to do this afternoon.
”

  “I’ll see if I can track her down,” Marvella said. “I have to work tonight, but I’ll leave you a note.”

  “All right,” I said, feeling as awkward as I had earlier. “Maybe she’s found him.”

  “We can only hope,” Marvella said.

  * * *

  I left her outside our apartment building, and drove toward Washington Park. I was supposed to meet Franklin at a diner there for lunch. I wanted to arrive early so that I could find a phone and call Laura.

  I kept my eyes open for a tail, going down side streets, watching for familiar cars, but I saw nothing. I stopped at one of those shopping centers with a grocery store, a liquor store, a small restaurant, and some insurance offices, parking toward the rear of the lot as if I wanted to protect my car. The shopping center had a pay phone booth beside the liquor store.

  I went inside booth and sat, dialing Laura’s number from memory as I surveyed the parking lot.

  No strange cars. No half-familiar faces.

  The phone was ringing.

  No one drove in, saw me, and turned around. I didn’t feel watched.

  The ringing continued.

  People left the store pushing carts. A man exited the liquor store with a large brown bag under his arm. No one looked at me.

  I was beginning to wonder if Laura wasn’t home when she picked up.

  “Laura?”

  “Smokey. Thank God.” She sounded relieved.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “I didn’t want to leave the apartment until I’d heard from you. This is all so strange.”

  “Is Jimmy all right?”

  “Let me switch phones.”

  She set the receiver down. I heard her footsteps fading away on the hardwood floor, then a click as she picked up another phone. Then that receiver went down, and I heard footsteps again. She hung up the first phone before speaking to me.

  “Still there?”

  “Wondering why all the subterfuge.”

  She sighed softly. “He’s in his room.”

  He already had a room. I thought that sad, considering the Grimshaws had him share a room with the boys and his foster mother had had to divide an attic space for him. Laura, who hadn’t been expecting him, had enough space to give him a room of his own.

  “But it’s too close to the phone.”

  “So what’s the problem?” I didn’t want problems, not with this arrangement. I had no backup and I was more uneasy than ever after my discussion with Marvella.

  “He’s quiet, Smokey. He misses you and he’s afraid for you.” Then she lowered her voice. “We both are.”

  My heart leaped, and I didn’t want it too. Laura and I had moved away from the relationship we had in Memphis—if moved away was the proper term. We seem to have mutually decided not to get involved again.

  And we both seemed to be having trouble with that.

  “I’m all right,” I said.

  “But not all right enough to come here?”

  “I haven’t found anyone yet,” I said. “But after the conversations I’ve had today, I’m pretty convinced someone was watching me. I’m just not sure why. I have to know that before I see him.”

  “He doesn’t want to be here.”

  “I know.”

  “He’s going to need to see you.”

  “Can you deal with him? Because if you can’t, I’ll find somewhere else for him to stay.”

  The words came out harsher than I expected. There was a pause before she replied. “He thinks you’re never coming back, Smokey.”

  “He said that?”

  “No. He asked me how long I’d keep him here before dumping him on the street.”

  “Jesus, Laura. What did you say?”

  “Two or three days.” Her voice was laced with anger. “What did you think I’d say? I’ll keep him here forever if I have to. I’ve never seen a sadder, more frightened child. He’s afraid to touch anything. He’s afraid of me, Smokey, and I haven’t done more than feed him, provide a bed, and try to have a conversation.”

  “He’s not used to white people.”

  “I’ve gathered that,” she said. “He asked me if we all live like this. And I told him that I was one of the lucky ones. Most people, whether they’re white, black, or purple, live differently from me.”

  In spite of myself, I smiled. She probably wouldn’t have said that six months ago. Hell, six months ago, she probably wouldn’t have understood why I wanted her to take Jimmy in.

  “Do you have a problem with that?” Her defensiveness was back. Apparently she took my silence for disapproval.

  “No. I think it was the appropriate answer.”

  “Smokey,” she said, “I’m afraid he’s going to sneak out. I’m afraid he’ll try to find his way back to you.”

  “All right,” I said. “Let’s see what we can figure out.”

  “I’ve been thinking about this all night,” she said. “Why don’t you meet us at my father’s office tomorrow? It’s Saturday. No one should be there. We’ll arrive a little after noon, and you can come around three. No one will even know we were in the same office, let alone seeing each other.”

  I was surprised by the level of planning she’d put into this. “You’d have to wait until long after I left.”

  “I know.”

  “What would you do there all afternoon?”

  She sighed. “You told me to look into Dad’s business, and I haven’t done it. I should start.”

  “And Jimmy?”

  “He can read, can’t he?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, then, he’ll help me.”

  “Laura, he’s just a boy. An afternoon of—”

  “Smokey, please. I’m doing this for him, not for me. I’ve needed to go to Dad’s office all summer and I haven’t gone. This is the best solution, I think. Better than a restaurant where we’d be noticed, better than some park or something that’s hard to watch.”

  She was getting good at this. It surprised me, pleased me, and alarmed me all at the same time. But I also felt great relief. She was working hard to keep Jimmy safe.

  “Sorry,” I said. “You’re right. I’ll be there around three.”

  “Good.”

  “Now, may I speak to him?”

  “Sure.” She set the phone down before I was able to add anything. I had planned to thank her for all that she was doing, but she didn’t give me the chance. Or I hadn’t taken the chance.

  Everything with her had become so awkward. And I had the odd sense that it was mostly my fault.

  After a moment, Jimmy picked up the line. “Smokey?”

  “Hey, Jim. Told you I’d call.”

  “You said you’d come.”

  “I said I’d come if I could. I still haven’t found the guy, but I talked with Marvella this morning. I’m convinced he’s real and watching me. I just have to find out why.”

  “You think it’s because of me?”

  “I’m hoping that there’s another reason.”

  “But you don’t think so?”

  “I don’t know, Jimmy.” A car backfired as it pulled out of the parking lot. I jumped.

  “Smokey?” Jimmy sounded panicked.

  “It’s okay. It was just a car. I’m at a pay phone.” I didn’t want to tell him that I was afraid that someone might be tapping the Grimshaws’ line. I didn’t want him to know the extent of my concern.

  “Laura and I arranged a way for me to see you tomorrow. I’ll make sure I’m not followed.”

  “I can come home then?”

  “Not yet,” I said.

  “But Smokey, what if something happens to you? Then what will I do?”

  Excellent question, and one I hadn’t dealt with. “In the short term, at least, Laura will care for you. We’ll discuss it tomorrow, the three of us, and make some decisions. Is that fair?”

  “Yeah.” His voice was very soft.

  “Jimmy.” I scanned the parking lot. No cars that looke
d familiar. No familiar faces. A woman was pushing a grocery cart and struggling with a toddler in the seat. The toddler was trying to pick food out of one of the brown bags. “Finding people and taking care of myself are the two things I’m the best at in the world. I’ll be fine.”

  “You promise?”

  “I can’t promise that. No one can make promises like that. But I can guarantee you that you’ll be safe for the rest of your life. That much I can do.”

  “I don’t want to stay here, Smokey.” His voice was almost inaudible.

  “Is she mean to you?”

  “No.”

  “Are you eating?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you finding things to do?”

  “She wants to play stupid games.”

  Poor Laura. Probably trying to entertain Jimmy the way she was entertained as a child. Their lives couldn’t have been more different. “Well, help her out a little. She’s not used to young boys.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  I smiled again. Two elderly men passed me on their way to the liquor store. They frowned at me. I glanced to see if there was a line behind the booth door, but saw nothing. I squared my shoulders, feeling odd that so much as a frown could make me wary.

  “I’ll get you out of there as soon as I can,” I said.

  “Promise?”

  “Yes, I can promise that.”

  “Good,” Jimmy said. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  So much hope in his voice. So much worry. I closed my eyes. I wasn’t used to having a dependent. The changes it brought startled me. I couldn’t just pick up and hunt any more.

  “Yes,” I said. “I’ll be there.”

  Then we hung up. I sat for a moment longer in that booth, feeling uncomfortable. I hadn’t expected to worry about Jimmy and his unpredictability. He knew the importance of staying where he was, but he was also a ten-year-old boy whose world had been destroyed.

  He had shown in the past that he would take matters into his own hands.

  I had to make sure that didn’t happen.

  * * *

  I went to my meal with Franklin feeling very discouraged. And the news Franklin gave me didn’t make me feel better.

  The neighbors had seen a number of strangers in the area, a lot of them cops. The strangers’ presence was obvious and they weren’t trying to hide in any way. Most of them were following the avowed Black Panther from the attic apartment, taking turns keeping close watch on him. Others were stalking the Blackstone Rangers and the kids who belonged to the less active gangs.