Dear sister dead, p.14
Dear Sister Dead, page 14
“You mean, they might have to let him go?”
“I don’t know.”
“But they think they’ve got the right person?”
“They’re sure they do.”
He thought about that. “Who is it?”
“Nobody you’d know.”
“But—”
I held up a hand. “The point,” I said, “is that you don’t need to worry about them looking at you, not anymore. What you do need to think about is getting your story straight and keeping it that way. Now, tell me,” I said, stepping up to him, “what hotel did you stay at?”
CHAPTER 21
Early the next day, I went straight to the police station. Blackie assured me that Hiram Glenn had not shown up at the pool hall or called back.
“You think he got the message?” I asked.
“I sure hope so,” he said. “She swears that the guy’s always been dependable in giving it to him.”
“You’ve got people watching the place?”
“Two cars. If he shows up, they’ll get him.”
I asked about Letitia. “Can I see her?”
“Sure.”
Letitia sat up when she saw me, stood stiffly, and came to grip the bars. She had double bags under her eyes. “My kids?”
“They’re fine,” I said. “I called yesterday evening and then I called again this morning. She said your babies slept well.”
“You told her I’m down here, arrested?”
“I told her ... you were indisposed.”
“Indisposed,” she repeated slowly. She gave a grim little smile. “Thanks for saying that. It seems so ... so ladylike.”
The smile melted into an expression of despair. She glanced up at the guard. “They not going to let me out of here, are they? Not till they get him.”
I thought about that, then chose to answer the best way I knew how. “Don’t think like that. Have faith.”
There was a jangling of keys behind me. It was an officer. He let Letitia out, escorted her to Blackie’s office and gestured for her to take a seat at a small table they’d set up with a phone. They had another phone set up on a nearby table.
It was good timing. Lettie had barely sat down when the telephone rang. Blackie held up a finger, indicating she should wait, then strode over to the second phone. He picked up the receiver, but held the cradle down, then gave her a nod.
Lettie picked up the phone. “Hiram?” she said, her hand at her throat.
Blackie released the cradle and put his hand over the mouthpiece, so he could listen in. I hurried over to stand next to him. He gave me a look of annoyance but held the phone so we could both listen.
“Is that you, baby? Really you?” Hiram was saying.
“Yes, it’s me. It’s really me. How are you?”
“What you’d expect?”
“Honey, they got your picture in the paper. If you come—”
“They not gonna let me come in, baby. They never gonna let me face trial. If they don’t shoot me on the doorstep, they’ll beat me to death, say I was resisting. Or hang me in my cell. Say I did to myself.”
“Hiram—”
“You were right to make me leave, Lettie. I messed up bad this time. I need to stay away. That’s the only way I can protect you.”
Letitia hesitated, then glanced up at me, pleadingly. What can I say? What should I say?
“Lettie?” Hiram said. “You still there?”
“Yes, yes. I’m still here. I—”
“The police is listening, right? They making you make this call, right?”
“Hiram, I—”
“Don’t worry about it, baby,” Hiram said gently. Then his tone hardened. “Mr. Policeman. I know you listening. Well, I’m telling you. I’m not coming in. I’m not making it easy for you.”
Blackie dropped all pretense. “You should really take another think, fella. Turn yourself in.”
“Why? So you can kill me? We both know how that works.”
“You listen to me, you scalawag, I’ve got your wife here. Yes, here, in the station. She’s got very fine accommodations back in our jail cell. Right now, it’s temporary. But I can make it permanent.”
“You can’t do that—”
“Oh, I can and I will. I know you were at her house. She fed you, gave you a place to rest, maybe even sleep. That’s called harboring. I’ll file the charge and make it stick. If you don’t want that to happen, then you’d better do the manly thing and turn yourself in.”
Silence followed.
Then Hiram said, “All right. But first, I’ve got some business to take care of. I’ll be in touch.” Before Blackie could say more, there was a click. Hiram had hung up.
Blackie slammed down the receiver. He turned, pointed at Letitia, and told the uniform on guard, “Book her.”
I stared at him hard, not bothering to hide what I thought of him. “I understand the need to catch this guy. Believe me I do, but this is not the way to do it.”
“Oh, you have a better way? Tell me about it.”
We had a staring contest. Usually, it was Blackie who gave in, but this time, it was me.
“I’ll write about this,” I said. “I’ll—”
“Good. Write about it. Make sure he knows about it. Make sure he knows I mean business. That I—”
His phone rang, cutting him off. A look of harried resentment flashed across his face. He snatched up the handset and identified himself with a brusque, “Detective Blackie.” He listened. His brow furrowed. He rubbed the space between his eyes and his gaze shifted to me. “All right.” He hung up and turned to me. “That was for you.”
“Me? Then why didn’t you—?”
“It was the desk sergeant. Sam left a message. Said he just got a call from a man named Bromley.”
Bromley? If he’d taken the chance of leaving his cabin, had gone to the trouble of finding a phone to call us, then he was in trouble. “What did he say?”
“That Bromley’s changed his mind. That he, Sam, is already on his way to see him and that you’d better get out there. Fast.” Blackie eyed me. “This Bromley, he’s the witness, isn’t he?”
I stood. “I’ve got to go.”
“Not without me, you don’t.” He grabbed his hat and coat and shot me a glance that dared me to object.
I wasn’t about to. If anything, I was actually glad Blackie was coming along. Something had happened to make Bromley fully realize the danger he was in. This was the chance to get him the protection he needed. I just hoped it wasn’t too late.
CHAPTER 22
Sam was already at Bromley’s shack by the time we got there. I introduced Blackie to Bromley. Bromley didn’t like Blackie’s being there—you could see it in his eyes—but he gave in with a nod, stepped back, and let us in.
The killer had been there, Bromley said.
“Did he hurt you or Ruthie Anne?” I asked.
“We weren’t here. I’d done took Ruthie Anne over to a neighbor’s house so she could see her friends. Then I come back here and found this.”
“I thought you said you weren’t going out.”
“I know, but me and Ruthie Ann, we was going crazy, staying in here. After you two left, it got worse. It was like being in stir. We just had to get out, get some air.”
“Well, lucky you did,” Sam said, looking around.
The place had been trashed, Bromley’s meager possessions had been destroyed, the pictures and shelves ripped from the walls, the legs of the table knocked out from under it.
“Nothing’s gone,” Bromley said. “It’s all here, just broken, in pieces. Then there’s this.” He pulled back the curtain that hid the cot. The intruder had used Bromley’s chalks to scrawl a message in large crude letters over the bed.
KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT!
“You two can’t stay here,” I said.
This time, he agreed.
Blackie interviewed Bromley on the spot, confirming what I’d told him but getting nothing more. Then he offered to take Bromley in protective custody. Bromley refused.
Sam said, “Why don’t you and Ruthie Anne stay in a hotel instead.”
“I ... I—”
“The paper will foot the bill,” Sam said.
Bromley was surprised. To be honest, so was I. Footing a hotel bill isn’t cheap and our publisher had a tendency to watch every cent.
“Why would you do that?” Bromley asked.
“It’s a good idea,” Blackie said. “Mr. Bromley, we’ve got a dangerous man out there and he’s coming for you. So, instead of chasing after him, we set a trap—“
“And use me as bait?” Bromley said.
“No!" I objected. "You wouldn’t.”
“It makes the most sense,” Sam said. “It would be the fastest way of catching this guy.”
“But you’d be putting his life in danger,” I said.
“We can offer protection,” Blackie said.
“I can’t believe you two would even—”
“Excuse me—” Bromley said.
“Suggest something like that,” I went on. “You’d be risking the life of our one and only witness.”
“I’m telling you, we can protect—”
“Excuse me—” Bromley tried again.
“And what about Ruthie Anne? And the danger you’d be putting her in? When I think of all the things that could go wrong—”
“EXCUSE ME!” Bromley yelled.
We all jumped. Bromley looked from me to Blackie to Sam.
“Would y’all please stop talking ‘bout me like I’m not here,” he said. “I am here, and I got a say in what goes on.”
“Of course, you do, but—” I began.
“Nah, Miss Lanie. There ain’t no ifs, ands, or buts about it. This is my life and I gets to say what I’m gonna do with it. Now, the detective here, if he says the fastest way to get this all over with is to use me as bait, then I’m all for it. Now, Mr. Detective, you say you can protect us?”
“Yes,” Blackie nodded. “I can.”
“What about ... what about Ruthie Annie?” I asked.
There was a pause, a moment of silence.
“She can come stay with me,” I said. “I have a house. She can have a room all to herself. She can stay with me, till this is all over.
Bromley thought about it, nodded. “OK. That sounds good.”
“We’d better go get her now,” Blackie said.
But when we went over to Bromley’s neighbor and explained to Ruthie Annie that she was to stay with me a while, she threw her small arms around her grandfather’s neck and refused to leave him.
Bromley tried to tell her it would only be for a little while, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She tightened her hold on him and buried her face in the crook of his neck. He looked over at us apologetically. “I guess she been through too much loss already. First her papa, then her mama. She too scared of losing me to let me go.”
I nodded. “I understand.” I reached over and stroked her hand. “We’re going to do our best, Ruthie Anne.” I threw a glance at Blackie and Sam, who stood next to one another. “Our very best to make sure nothing happens to you and your grandpa, you hear?”
She nodded and bent her head against to rest it on Bromley’s shoulder.
I went over to Blackie. “Well, detective, you’ve got your work cut out for you. Let’s see what you can do.”
We installed Bromley and Ruthie Anne in a small hotel over on 145th Street and Broadway. Sam said he had to head back to the newsroom. “Lanie, you coming?”
“In a minute. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Should I wait for you?”
“No, you just go ahead. I’ll be right there.”
Sam slightly canted his head to one side. His gaze flitted from me to Bromley to Blackie.
“Don’t worry,” Blackie said. “I won’t let her stay.”
“I don’t intend to,” I said.
“All right,” Sam said. “Then, I guess I’ll see you back at the office.”
“I don’t think I’ll be back in tonight, Sam, but tomorrow morning.”
“Fine.” Sam opened the door and stepped out.
Blackie turned to me. “You heard what I told him.”
“Like I said. I don’t intend to stay.” I turned to Bromley and gestured toward Ruthie Anne. “Last chance, Ruthie Anne. Now that you’ve seen where we have your grandpa stashed, maybe you feel better?”
Vaguely, I heard the sound of distant voices raised.
“You can still come with me, if you want.”
Out in the corridor, the noise level increased. Someone shouted. There was the sound of running feet.
Ruthie Anne looked to Bromley. “Grandpa?”
He bent down, took her by the hand. “Baby, it’s gonna be OK. You can go with the nice lady. I’m gonna be fine.”
More voices. More shouts. And now a siren screamed in the distance. Blackie and I exchanged glances.
“What in the blue blazes ...” Blackie unholstered his gun, hurried to the door and cracked it open. A thin smell of smoke wafted in. Groups of hotel guests, many still in night robes, were hurrying past.
“What’s going on?” Blackie asked.
Everyone ignored him. Blackie stuck his head out, looked left and right, then came back inside, shutting the door behind him.
“I smell smoke,” Bromley said.
“Is there a fire?” I asked.
Blackie holstered his gun. “I’m going to go downstairs and see what’s going on. You guys stay here. Lock the door after me and don’t open it to anybody but me.”
“But—”
He was out before Bromley could finish his sentence. Bromley started for the door, but I got to it first and locked it.
Bromley objected. “Look, I know smoke when I smell it. If this place is on fire, it’ll go up like a wood pile. We gotta get outta here.”
“Let Blackie find out what’s going on.”
“But it’s clear what’s—“
“No, It could be the killer.”
“But he doesn’t know where we are.”
“How do you know? Are you sure? I’m not. We can’t risk going out there.”
“And I won’t risk staying in here. I’m not about to let me and my grandbaby cook to death.”
“Please,” I said. “Give Blackie at least another five minutes.”
The sound of the siren grew closer. At the same time, the sounds outside the door began to recede.
Another minute passed. The smell of smoke grew thicker.
“Come on, baby,” Bromley said, reaching for Ruthie Anne. “We’re leaving. Everybody’s out but us. We got to go.” He grabbed her hand.
I stood in front of the door. “The gunman, he could be waiting outside the door.”
“I’m leaving,” Bromley said, “and there ain’t nothing you can do to stop me.”
I looked from him to the child. She was terrified, clutching her doll, but she was silent, mature enough not to panic or cry.
“That detective,” Bromley said. “He should’ve been back by now. The fact that he—“
“All right,” I said. “We’ll go. But hurry and keep your faces covered.” I unlocked the door, peeped out, then held it open and stood aside.
The corridors were empty, eerily so. Perhaps, there were a few like us who had tried to hold out in their rooms but most were gone. The place felt abandoned.
“Hurry,” I told them and pointed down the corridor. The three of us ran as fast as we could, coat collars held over our noses. We pushed open a swing door with a glass panel in it, to enter another corridor. Then ran pell-mell down another corridor. Suddenly, the place seemed endless. Where was the exit door?
Bromley was in front, Ruthie Anne in the middle, holding on to his hand, and I brought up the rear, constantly looking over my shoulder, hoping to see Blackie, fearing to see Hiram Glenn. Suddenly, I thought I saw a shadow, darker than the smoke, looming up behind me.
“Go! Go!” I cried. “Hurry!”
That’s when it happened.
Ruthie Anne stumbled and fell. The doll flopped out of her hand. Bromley hauled the child to her feet and dragged her forward, but she dug in her heels and resisted.
“Miss Dollie!” she screamed.
“I’ll get it!” I yelled.
But Ruthie Annie didn’t listen. She broke free and darted back to grab her doll.
A shot rang out. Glass shattered. Not from behind me. But up ahead. From the side, from a branch off the corridor.
Bromley cried out, covered his head, and dropped down. Another shot. He cowered in the corner, his back against the wall, facing the branching corridor. Then I heard the thud of a door being kicked in.
Ruthie Annie, clutching her doll, scrambled to her feet and tried to get to Bromley, heedless of the danger as he tried to wave her away. I ran after her, trying to catch her in time. Failing.
A tall, broad-shouldered man strode up the corridor. He held a large gun. To me, it seemed like the largest gun I’d ever seen and he had it trained on us.
Ruthie Anne threw herself into Bromley’s embrace and wrapped her little arms around his neck. Slowly, he disentangled her, gently pushed her aside and got to his feet. He shoved her behind me.
“Ruthie Anne,” I said, “come to me.”
But she shook her head and stood clinging to Bromley’s leg.
The gunman checked each of us, then shifted his aim to Bromley.
“No,” Ruthie Anne cried. “No, please! Please, don’t shoot him!”
Bromley licked his lips and said, “Hush, child. It’s going to be OK.”
“Glenn?” I said.
He switched his aim from Bromley to me. “You know my name?”
“I know your wife, Letitia. And I know, she wouldn’t want you to do this.”
He tightened his jaw. “You don’t know nothing ‘bout my wife.”
“I know she wants you to live. So, please, put the gun down. Don’t do this.”
Glenn turned his weapon back on Bromley.
Ruthie Anne’s little face crumbled into tears. “Please, don’t! Please, don’t hurt my grandpa! He’s all I got! Please, don’t hurt him! PLEASE!”
Glenn blinked. He swallowed. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. He blinked and wiped his forehead, momentarily letting the gun sag, Then he licked his lips, reset his shoulders, and raised his weapon again.
