Settling Old Scores: BWWM Second Chance Romance (13 page)

"I
know you talked the other day about how they won't hire black guys up
here. You are the MBA guy that knows about labor relations,
economics, and that stuff. Maybe, but it doesn't make me feel more
charitable towards him. Mom was out of a job once she got pregnant, I
know that,"

They
rode in silence the rest of the way to the apartment.

"By
the way, what do you know or remember about Jesse Campbell, Tyrone
Jones, or Sam & Donny McCann?" Kevin said, changing the
subject and getting serious again.

"I
don't know too much. Campbell was the drugs guy. Tyrone was a bookie.
He ran craps games and a betting parlor out of his barber shop. The
McCanns were the worst of the bunch, as far as I am concerned. They
had the houses on English avenue. They were in a line of work no
woman can stand," Pat said.

“
You
knew about those places on English? I never knew what to expect when
I was around there. I always cut through those backyards from the
alley when I had a morning route. Lights would still be on, music
playing. Sometimes, somebody would be passed out in the backyard,
which would scare the shit out of you if you weren’t expecting
it. One time, I walked into a situation where the drunk woke up and
thought I was a cop. It was wild. After that, I didn’t take
shortcuts through there. The girls always were nice to me though,
when I came to collect. They tipped generously, and some even flirted
a little with me. Brown Sugar, don’t you know?” Kevin
said, with a smirk.

“
A
lot of them were cutters too, Mr. Thinking with the Wrong Head. They
carried straight razors and would cut you in a heartbeat if you got
out of line. So, are you surprised I knew about that place?”
she said, with a shrug and a laugh.

“
Yes
I am! All I can say is that you are way more worldly than I give you
credit for Miss Washington,” Kevin said, shaking his head at
the reference to "cutters" and thinking with the wrong
head.

"Cutters
you might be able to deal with. Canners are the ones you want to
avoid though," he said, using meat packing terms as applied to
prostitution. The pimps were the canners and the girls were the
cutters.

“
I
am not the little Miss Naïve you think I am, and don’t you
forget it. Firstly, we ladies are way more observant than you men
when it comes to situations like that. You might be street smart, but
sometimes your hormones get in the way of impartial observation and
good judgment. That's particularly true when the subject is women as
we know. I am sure the McCanns wouldn't like someone right under
their nose freelancing," she said challengingly.

“
Jesus
Christ! You used to be in this trade or what?" Kevin said in
mock horror.

"If
I was, it wouldn't be with the McCanns. I want to be in the $500 a
night category, at least," Pat said.

"I
would have paid that for a night with you if I had known your price,"
Kevin said.

"That
would have been my teaser rate. Now that I have you hooked, the rates
triple," she shot back.

Kevin
laughed. "After last night, I would say you're worth it too
babe! You’re right on about pimps not liking competition. Even
perceived competition would have been unwelcome. The riot and
burnings would have provided good cover for retribution and settling
scores. Sylvia naturally attracted attention. You and I aren't the
only ones that remember her down there. She did stand out. I didn't
know Donny McCann except by sight. I always stayed the hell away from
the McCanns when I could. They had a business to run and I was of no
interest to them. They would be the last person this white boy would
want to attract the attention of. I do know some people that knew
them though," he said.

"It's
not likely the funeral home was burned out for gambling debts. It
certainly wasn't burned down for insurance. Insurance companies don't
have to pay for damage due to riots & insurrections. When you
have to call out the National Guard to restore order, and enforce a
curfew, it has to be an open & shut case of riot &
insurrection," Kevin said.

"I
bet the cops didn't do much of an investigation on Sylvia's
disappearance. They had their hands full as it was at the time,"
said Pat.

"Bingo!
That is exactly my thought. Unless a body falls into your lap, you
just wouldn't have the resources to spend looking for a missing
prostitute. Hell, she could have decided to go to a different town,
would have been their attitude. I know she loved her daughter and
would never have abandoned her like that, but they wouldn't know it,"
said Kevin.

"Is
this going to become a cause of yours?" Pat asked.

"I
don't know. I am curious as to what happened. It's like the Kennedy
assassination. Someone got away with murder. I don't like to see
that. This one is different in that I have some direct knowledge of
the players and the neighborhood. I do think I am going to talk to
the detective that has it as a case. I don't have any information to
add. I would like to think that they would have looked at it, and
considered the McCann brothers as people of interest. We
independently put them on a real short list inside of five minutes,"
Kevin said.

"Does
your motivation include some feelings for Marcy, too? It has to be a
little frightening to remember someone, and practically see and hear
their reincarnation in their daughter," Pat said.

"Not
so much. I don't intend to talk to her. I don't know what happened to
her mom anymore than she does. It would be awful to go pick that scab
without having some salve or a band-aid to put back over the wound.
You saw the picture I have of her. She is now, and was then a
gorgeous child. Children that age are the real deal. They are genuine
and so innocent. In my mind, I still have her frozen in time as that
little girl in the picture which doesn't help me to stay away from
it," said Kevin.

"What
if it turns out the McCanns did it, but you can't prove it?”
Pat asked.

"There
is no statute of limitations on murder. I am not sure how that could
happen. I am not trying to solve the case. Just try to understand it,
or find some facts out that might get them to take another look at
the case," Kevin said.

"That
was the correct answer. I don't want to hear that you would get your
untraceable revolver out that doesn't throw brass all over the place
and go after whoever you think the perpetrator was," said Pat.

"Christ
Pat, that wouldn't even cross my mind. Sometimes, you hear about
someone getting off on a legal technicality and it pisses you off,
but that is the way system works. It is not for me to correct. Most
of the time the guilty are punished," Kevin said.

"I
was just wanting to hear that someone getting away with murder during
a riot should not themselves be subject to vigilante justice even if
a damsel in distress was the victim," she said.

22.
Willie and Kevin

On
Monday, Kevin got up early, leaving a still sleeping Pat. He headed
out to see Matt again. They had agreed to meet for breakfast at the
greasy spoon Janet worked at. Kevin was early. When he came in, he
headed towards a booth in the back. Janet spotted him and came over
to talk. She was all smiles. He threw an arm around her ample girth,
gave her a kiss on top of her head and a pat on the butt.

"You
know, you got a nice soft body, girl! I got to hold it against me for
a second at least! I am going to have lunch with your brother today.
I talked to him on the phone after you gave me his number," said
Kevin.

"Do
you feel lucky punk? Groping and trying to play me!” she said,
pushing him away with a Eastwood growl of warning and a laugh.

"Yeah.
Well, I feel lucky cause I didn't die over the weekend from the food
I had here the other day. Matt T is going to meet me here in a few
minutes, I hope. By the way, what is your baby sister Tammy doing
these days?" Kevin asked.

"She
is an ‘entertainer’ at
Something
Else,
the
strip place just outside of downtown, where all the warehouses used
to be. The McCann boys own it, remember them?" she said, doing
the quotation marks with disgust.

"My
baby sister, a stripper," she sighed. "Those guys got her
into that business. I hate them for that. She makes pretty good
money, but it ain't nice work if you know what I mean."

"Oh
Janet! I am so sorry. I bet if I went in there, she would be
mortified to see me. Remember the time when she had chicken pox and I
stopped at your house? She must have been about four. I was, maybe 12
or so. She got so excited to show me her pox that she started to take
her clothes off right in front of me. We all laughed at her until she
sulked off and cried," said Kevin.

Janet
laughed. "I haven't thought of that in a long time. Maybe, she
was starting to go wrong even then. She would be mortified to see
you. But don't you dare go in there! I doubt if you would come out in
one piece. If you eyed the girls too much, they would set you up with
the ‘buy the lady a drink’ scam. Either, they would get
their money from you that way, or they would just follow you out to
the parking lot. They really have a hold on her. Donny ain't a big
pimp no more. He still scares the girls, as necessary. Sam is the one
to really fear," she said.

About
that time, Matt came in. He didn't look too bad either. He must have
at least taken a shower and washed. He saw them and came up to the
counter.

"Hi,
Matt. You remember Janet Smith from the old neighborhood?" Kevin
said pointing to Janet.

"I
do. Hi, Janet. We took English together from Mrs. Hobson. Remember
her?" Matt asked.

"Hi,
Matt. I remember her and you, too. You used to do that stuff on a
high bar like a crazy man. I was always afraid you would whip off the
bar and break your neck," said Janet.

Matt
smiled the first smile Kevin had seen him smile in a long time. "I
did fall a lot, and nearly broke my neck more than once," he
said.

Janet
took their orders, and got back to work. Matt seemed to be in no
hurry to talk. So, Kevin decided to wait him out a bit. As he sipped
his coffee, Kevin reflected that he could learn a lot from all these
people by just asking a question and paying attention. Janet had just
shared a lot with him with hardly any prompting. He was starting to
get a real bad taste in his mouth about the McCanns, but he wasn't
the only one. Janet certainly had it too. Soon, he would find out how
Willie felt. He studied Matt closely and determined to at least help
him get some dental work, if nothing else.

"Thanks
for getting me the room. I had a good night’s sleep and a hot
shower this morning. The mattress was lumpy enough, so I didn't feel
too pampered. I fit right in that place," Matt said.

"It
is a fleabag no doubt, but it is starting to get a little nippy out
there at night," Kevin said.

After
his first cup of coffee, Matt started to come alive. He started to
talk some more about his war experiences. He told more stories about
using a handgun on Viet Cong in darkened holes. Getting blood all
over from him, especially from head shots. How loud noises could make
him jump right out of his skin to this day! He said he had a hearing
loss, which Kevin could readily see from the way he would favor one
ear over the other for listening.

"You
know Matt, if you go down to the VA and apply for a disability for
that, you could probably get something for it. At least, you would
have a steady something coming to you every month. They also have a
program for dental work, too. Your mouth looks like it is in terrible
shape. You must have had some big tooth aches at different times,"
said Kevin.

Matt
smiled. It wasn't a pretty smile, but it was nice to see though.
"Well, I could always use the money, and it always hurts for
awhile when I lose a tooth. One time, I got an infection. Man did
that hurt! The Percodans were pretty good too,” he said
dreamily.

Kevin
laughed. "They probably would give you a lifetime supply once
they looked at in your mouth and started to work on you."

"I
might just do it" Matt said.

"Anytime
you are ready, I will take you down there, or you can just walk in. I
know they will be helpful," said Kevin.

They
talked some more. Kevin did mention his experiences hauling
munitions, explosives, agent orange, and napalm. They were just
starting to find out how dangerous the orange stuff was. He told Matt
that he worried about that a little. They washed their clothes in the
runoff from it every time they were in the Mekong Delta. He talked
about Napalm and how once you got it on your clothes, it would leave
a white streak that never washed out. He mentioned about his fear of
being steamed to death in an engine room; and the resultant
claustrophobia he felt.