The Shadow Man (41 page)

why you were so eager to get out, huh? Gonna fire up that pipe, get yourself high again. That’ll get rid of the pain, no shit.’

‘You crazy.’

‘Maybe. Maybe. You keep that in mind, Leroy. Maybe I’m a little crazy.’

Walter Robinson abruptly slammed the steering wheel to the right, jerking the car onto the rough shoulder next to the highway, sending a rooster tail of dirt and dust up behind them, instantly making all four passengers bounce wildly about, crying out, as the car fishtailed. He accelerated on the gravel and coral shoulder. The stony road made the car sway and heave, kicking up bullets of rock. Martinez clamped her mouth shut and held on as Robinson swerved between two cars, back onto the pavement. Behind them a driver leaned on his horn in frightened irritation.

‘Come on, Walter, what are you trying to prove?’ Alter demanded. ‘Just drive the car.’

Robinson didn’t reply. Something about Leroy Jefferson simply angered him; perhaps it was the sensation that the suspect was getting away with something, perhaps it was the self-satisfied, frustrating way Jefferson grinned at him. Robinson had one extreme thought: I know where that smile comes from. It was simple: Jefferson was ready to kill Sophie Millstein. All those breakins that they knew he did, but couldn’t prove. He was ready to start escalating the violence. Making the jump from robbery to armed robbery and then to murder. He would have done her for sure. But he didn’t have to, because someone else was there, beating him to it, and he thought this was all some great cosmic joke. Funniest thing he’d ever seen. Walter Robinson breathed out slowly, gritted his teeth and tossed the car around the off-ramp, the engine racing as he headed

toward Miami Beach police headquarters.

They sat in one of the ubiquitous interrogation rooms, starting slowly, pausing over details, lingering over each component of the night Sophie Millstein died. Walter Robinson’s thinking was simple. He wanted to get Jefferson’s memory working hard, and, at the same time, he wanted to both relax and exhaust the man. Even with Tommy Alter’s presence loosely guarding the words that his client spoke, Robinson thought he might be able to slide in some question, extract an answer that might inadvertently tie Leroy Jefferson to all the unsolved breakins that preceded Sophie Millstein’s murder. Or at least something that he might be able to develop later into a piece of evidence that would support an indictment. It would be nice, he thought, to arrive at Jefferson’s house some fresh morning with a brand new warrant for some crimes that were not part of the arrangement. Consequently, Robinson adopted a tedious, painstaking style, designed to bore everyone in the room. He asked about the weather, he asked about the bus rides. He made Jefferson describe the clothing he was wearing, and made Jefferson recall where he purchased his sneakers and why he bought that brand and how he was nicknamed Hightops and how he first got introduced to crack cocaine, and every other question he could think of that only occasionally bordered on the relevant.

He drew this out for several hours, letting the Identikit technician sit in a corner, waiting for his turn. The technician was a veteran, and well aware of what was going on. He kept his mouth closed. Occasionally Tommy Alter would impatiently interrupt, as the day dwindled around them, marked only by the single wall clock high on the ceiling of the interrogation room. Eventually the public

defender rose, said he was going to get a cup of coffee and a newspaper to read, and asked if anyone else needed anything.

‘I want something to eat,’ Jefferson said.

Walter Robinson pulled out his wallet and said, ‘Tommy, why don’t you get your client a sandwich and a soda from the deli across the street. Maybe better get everyone a sandwich. Miss Martinez, maybe you can go along and give him a hand.’

Espy Martinez started to object, but then recognized that Robinson probably had a reason for asking her to escort Alter, and the reason probably was to delay his return as much as possible, so she nodded.

‘You’re going to stick to the same material?’ Alter asked.

‘Yeah. Just going through it all slowly.’

‘Okay. We’ll be back in a few minutes. Leroy, don’t answer any question you’re not comfortable with.’

‘No problem.’

Alter exited, trailed by Espy Martinez. After a second or so of quiet, Walter Robinson started asking more cogent questions.

‘Tell me, Leroy, did you always ride the bus when you did a breakin?’

Jefferson was slumped back in his seat, slightly distracted, toying with a pack of cigarettes, obviously feeling pretty confident and slightly bored. He shrugged. ‘Didn’t have no car.’

‘Same bus every time?’

‘It took me where I wanted to go.’

‘Weren’t you scared some bus driver might remember you?’

‘Nah. They change drivers around so much. And I went on different nights. And I was always careful, you know, to come out when the evening shift was driving and leave

when the next shift took over.’

‘That was smart.’

‘I ain’t stupid like some junkies.’

‘Why the same neighborhood each time?’

‘Old people. Old buildings. Old locks. Weren’t nobody gonna have a gun, come surprise me. I never carried my gun myself.’

Walter Robinson nodded. ‘Sure. Makes sense. So, tell me how come you picked Sophie’s place?’

‘Oh, man, it was easy. I’d noticed it on another trip. Got that alley down the back. Not much light. Those patio doors, all you got to do is jam them up and off their runners and makes no difference what sort of lock they got. You’re in.’

‘So, tell me about that night.’

‘It weren’t too late, you know. Maybe midnight. I was right in the back, hiding next to the garbage cans. It was nice and quiet. No lights on, except upstairs, and they was watching the television real loud, which was gonna cover up any noise I made.’

‘Did you know she was inside?’

Jefferson shook his head. ‘Weren’t no lights or sounds or nothing. I thought the place was empty for sure.’

Robinson nodded again. Sure, he said to himself. Sure you thought it was empty. Like hell. But he didn’t say this out loud. He merely made a mental check note next to the lie and continued.

‘So you were out back. How long were you there?’

‘Maybe half hour. Maybe a little more. I took my time about these things. Lot of guys, you know, they just smash their way right in. Me, I was more careful. Didn’t want to get busted.’

‘And what happened?’

‘Man, dude scared the shit outta me. I was just starting

to get ready, you know, sneak across, do my thing, when I saw this little movement off to my side. I froze. Didn’t make a move. I was already ducked down, you know, being careful. He must have been there watching, maybe ten feet away. I don’t know how long he’d been there, man, the dude was so quiet, didn’t even hear his breathing. I thought he musta seen me for sure, but I guess not because maybe he was watching that apartment so close and like he didn’t expect anyone to be doing the same thing. Where I was, it was like a little black hole, no light in there at all, and I was hidden pretty good.’

‘So, you didn’t see him arrive?’

‘No, man. Man moved like a spook. Maybe like some damn ghost, he be so quiet. I don’t know how long he was hanging there. Coulda been a couple of minutes, coulda been an hour. At least as long as me.’ ‘Tell me what you saw.’

‘Dude slides across the patio, right up to the old lady’s place. Man was slick, I’ll tell you. Didn’t make a sound. Not like some old guy bumbling and fumbling, you know. Dude had done this thing before, the way he moved. Damn, he had that sliding door open so quick, just like it wasn’t even locked. Made one little noise, when he broke the lock, you know, then he was inside.’ ‘What did you do?’

‘Well, man, first thing I thought was to run, you know? Try someplace else, because I figured this old guy was gonna clean that apartment out. He was a pro, you could tell, and there weren’t gonna be nothing left for me. But I was curious too, you know? Sort of wanted to see what was gonna go down.’ ‘Sure. Makes sense.’

“I mean, like it was almost like I thought I might learn something.’ Leroy Jefferson laughed briefly. ‘Man, I

learned something all right.’

‘So, what did you do?’

‘Moved right across the yard there, right up to the door. Couldn’t see shit, so I stepped inside, real quiet. Into the kitchen there.’

‘Because you wanted to learn something?’

‘That’s right.’

Robinson thought to himself: not because you thought you might be able to pop the old man after he’d done all the work for you. You were gonna take him off, right then. Good thing you didn’t try it, because the Shadow Man would have killed you so fast, you wouldn’t even have known you were dying. But he said: ‘Go ahead. What happened then?’

‘I heard them. Sound was coming from the bedroom. Weren’t a lot of noise, but man, I knew what was happening. Old dude was killing her. It weren’t like no fight, weren’t even like much of a struggle. Just real quick, like the dude still knew what he was doing. I heard her make a sound like a little scream maybe, but not real loud and that was it for her. And I heard a cat too, you know that meowing noise they make. I heard that too. I slide down into the corner, trying to stay where it’s hidden, you know? I think, shit man, he’s killing somebody, let’s get the fuck outta here, but before I can run, I see the dude again. Only a couple of feet away, man, he was moving fast, but just as quiet as before and he’s out the door and gone.’

‘What did you do?’

‘Well, I real quick stuck my head in, saw the old lady all tangled up in her sheets. Weren’t much light in there, just streetlights, you know, coming through the window, but enough to see that jewelry box, so I grabbed a few things.’

‘You were in a hurry?’

‘Sure. Jesus, man, just wanted to get outta there. But,

like, this old dude had given me an easy score, and after all, that was why I was there in the first place, so shit, I wanted to, what you say, take advantage of the opportunity. But I musta made too much noise with the drawers and things, because I heard a door open upstairs, and then footsteps, and knocking on the front door. Figured I better get moving then, grabbed a few more things, anything, you know, anything that would fit in the pillowcase and might be worth something, and got outta there. Shouldn’t have been so damn greedy, you know? If I’da left right then, when I heard the knocking, nobody’d have seen me. But man, when you’re looking to make some money, sometimes you don’t think right.’ ‘The necklace?’

‘Yeah. I saw it as I was leaving. Saw those diamonds. Man, even in the dark they were glowing. Figured I could get something for them, so I grabbed it quick from her neck.’

Walter Robinson thought: postmortem scratch explained. ‘And what happened next.’

‘Fucking old-timer sees me running. Gets a good look Starts shouting for the cops. That’s it, you know the rest.’

‘Let’s go back to the man you saw commit the crime …’ ‘Man was cold. Gave me the shakes. Don’t want to see him again. Goes in, strangles an old lady, no reason I could see. Don’t even steal nothing. Man was cold.’

Walter Robinson paused. Jefferson had shifted about in his seat, sitting up, arms on the table in front of him, a nervous electric tension in his voice as he described the killing. Jefferson’s easygoing confident manner had changed, and he sensed some frightened urgency on the man’s face.

‘When I thought about it, later, you know, after I got my

money from Reggie and was getting some smoke down, it kinda freaked me, you know. I mean, dude was just a killer, that’s all.’

Walter Robinson realized that in the generously psychopathic world that Leroy Jefferson occupied, a murder without some obvious profit connected to it was unsettling. There were probably dozens of killings that Leroy Jefferson wouldn’t have thought twice about. But this one made him anxious.

‘Don’t want to run into that dude on a dark night,’ Jefferson joked, leaning back in his seat. ‘You better be thinking the same, Detective. Man was a stone-cold killer.’

‘Did you ever hear him say anything?’

‘No. Just quiet. Cool. Moved so easy.’

‘Okay, but you’d know him if you saw him again?’

‘Sure. I got a real good look at him. Hell, better than the old-timer got looking at me, when I was running. This dude didn’t move real fast, you see? Deliberate-like. Took his time to do things right. So I got a real good look at him. Both outside, and when he went right by me in the apartment. Good thing he didn’t see me. Guess he weren’t expecting no black man on his tail.’

Walter Robinson nodded again. He still has a black man on his tail, and he doesn’t know it. The detective gestured over at the Identikit technician, who stretched like a dog awakened from a place next to a fire, and then approached with his valise.

‘All yours, now,’ Robinson said.

‘Okay, Mr Jefferson,’ the technician said. ‘We’re going to go real slow. You just form a mental picture of the man you saw. And I’m gonna show you a bunch of different facial shapes. And pretty soon, we’re gonna have a picture of this guy.’

Jefferson made a small gesture with his hand. ‘Sounds fine to me.’

The technician produced a series of overlays on clear plastic sheets of paper. ‘Let’s start with the chin,’ he said. ‘I’ll show you these forms, and you concentrate on what you remember, and stop me when I get the right one.’

‘Hey, Detective,’ Jefferson said. ‘You bust this guy, you gonna be looking for the death penalty, same as you were with me?’

‘Absolutely.’

Leroy Jefferson nodded his head, wrinkling his chin as he thought hard. He turned his eyes to the plastic overlays.

‘Didn’t ever think I’d be helping the cops put the juice to no one,’ he said. ‘But the dude was a killer. No doubt about it.’ He pointed at one of the shapes displayed on the table in front of him. ‘Let’s start with that one,’ he said.

Walter Robinson shifted in his seat and watched as the painstaking process of giving a face to the Shadow Man began.

Tommy Alter gave up after a few more hours, leaving after extracting a promise from Walter Robinson that Jefferson would be given a ride back to his home and that the ride would be direct and smooth. The Identikit technician was thorough and refused to be hurried, a man who enjoyed his work in the same way that an artist does as shapes take form on the canvas.