Lady Midnight (13 page)

“Senator Patrick. They were blackmailing him?”
 

“I think so. Yeah. But they wouldn’t let me in on any of the details.”
 

“Was he paying them to keep Connie’s adult movies under wraps?”
 

Nookie shook her head. “No. That was my dumb idea. This was different. She went to them with something.”
 

“What? Why would she do that? That doesn’t make sense. Connie’s the one with everything to lose in all of this.”
 

“She did, I mean—Connie lost that baby, Roland. She was doing coke, even though she knew that she was pregnant. It was like she just didn’t care. I don’t think she could stop, anyway. She lost the baby and then when she was in the hospital, the people there called her father—the Senator. When she found out they’d notified him, she left the hospital and came here. She didn’t want him to come for her. She’d just had a miscarriage, but that’s how bad she didn’t want to see him. Can you imagine? But they gave him my place as her only known address, I guess. Then those men Senator Patrick hired showed up here—Grant and Pitman. They showed up here and said that they had come to take her home.”
 

“Grant told me that he and his partner, a man named Bowman, were working for Senator Patrick,” I said, seeing if Bowman’s name evoked a reaction.
 

“Grant and Pitman told me that they were working for Senator Patrick, that night.”
 

“You’re sure there wasn’t another man with them?” I thought of Bowman, dead in the misting rain outside of Sally’s Diner, with his expensive gold watch and silver pistol.
 

“No. There were just the two of them.” Nookie looked into my eyes. “Connie didn’t want to go home. She hated her father. She told them something that changed their minds. I don’t know what. But just like that, they were listening to her, and it was clear things had changed. They made me leave the room, and I tried to listen but that guy out there.” She glanced past me, out to where Pitman’s body lay. “He made me sit in a chair and kept talking to me. Grant called Big Daddy and he came over here—they all had a long talk. They decided to do something else. Then, they left with Connie. Big Daddy told me to keep my mouth shut.”
 

“This ‘something else’ she told them about. It’s the reason they weren’t interested in your own blackmail idea?”
 

Nookie’s face clouded. “Her brother screwed me over, and I was just trying to get my money back. I was her friend, for Christ’s sake.”
 

I let the obvious irony that she was going to expose her dear friend’s identity to hoodlums for drug money pass without comment. “So where is Connie now?”
 

“You’d have to ask that guy, Grant. After everything that happened, he started running things. It seemed like he and Big Daddy had some kind of understanding.”
 

“Nookie, did you lie about Anthony Herron, too? About knowing him?”
 

She shook her head. “I swear to God. I never even heard of the guy.”
 

I stood and put my hand on her shoulder. “Look, I have to go. Stay in here until the police get here. Tell them everything. Everything. I’ll be back when this is all over.”

Chapter 18

I was on my way back to Randy Cross’s place, when my cell phone rang. It was Baucom, according to the number on the screen. Quite a coincidence, I mused. I pulled into a parking lot near the CNN Building and took the call.
 

“Longville.”
 

“Mr. Longville, this is Baucom, Senator Patrick’s assistant,” he said as though I might have trouble remembering him from the previous day.
 

“I guess the Senator told you about our last little chat, then.”
 

“He did. The Senator just wanted me to assure you that he has complete confidence in you, that he was upset by some revelations that your investigation has made so far, but—”
 

“Anthony Herron,” I said.
 

“Excuse me? Have you located Mr. Herron?”
 

“No. I’m glad you called, because I wanted to ask you. Have you ever met Anthony Herron, Mr. Baucom?”
 

“No, not personally.”
 

“Mr. Baucom, I don’t mean, have you ever been introduced. I don’t mean, have you ever spoken in passing. What I mean is, have you ever even been in the same room with Anthony Herron? Have you ever actually seen him, even from a distance? From a car? In a crowd? Have you, in fact, Mr. Baucom, ever laid eyes on this young man who you told me is named Anthony Herron?”
 

From the heavy silence on the other end I could tell Baucom was doing some soul searching. But was he carefully formulating his answer to continue covering for Patrick, or was he coming to some realization of his own regarding the story Patrick had given him? I was betting that Baucom was an honest man. When he finally spoke again, I felt more than a little vindicated for my faith in the man.
 

“No,” Baucom said, simply. The little word, with all of its implications, hung in the static between us for a long moment.
 

“The picture . . . the photo of Anthony Herron that you gave me when we all met in the back of the Senator’s limo, where did that picture come from?”
 

“The Senator supplied me with the photograph. He said he got it from Connie’s room.”
 

“And other than that instance, Mr. Baucom, had you ever heard of Anthony Herron before? Ever before in your life?”
 

“Well, no. I can’t say that I had.”
 

“Thank you, Mr. Baucom.”
 

“What are you getting at with all of this, Mr. Longville?”
 

“I’m not completely sure at the moment, but whatever is happening here, I’m beginning to have my doubts about Anthony Herron’s responsibility. In fact, I’m beginning to think that when I get to the bottom of just whatever is going on here, it isn’t going to have a whole lot to do with anyone named Anthony Herron.”
 

Baucom had fallen silent on the other end.
 

“I’ll call you when I know more,” I said, and hung up. Whatever was happening with Connie Patrick, I was willing to bet that Baucom was as much in the dark as I was, at the moment.
 

I pulled back into traffic and continued on to the building that housed the firm formerly known as Grant and Bowman.
 

Ms. Oliver wasn’t at her desk, and Grant wasn’t expecting company. All the same, I came through the door with my .45 in my hand. My meeting with Pitman had demonstrated that Grant wasn’t pulling any punches. He had obviously sent Pitman to silence Nookie and myself. Grant was probably in there waiting for Pitman to show. He was probably wondering why he hadn’t called to let him know how things had gone. Maybe he was getting a little worried, too.
 

Maybe he was sitting behind his desk with a gun trained on the door. There was no way to know. But those are the chances you take. Grant was actually standing behind his desk when I walked in. His eyes widened when he saw me.
 

“Longville.”
 

It was clear that I was the last person he’d been expecting to see. “I know what you’ve been doing, Grant. Where’s Constance Patrick being held?”
 

“Don’t make we laugh, Longville. That girl is nothing but a drug addict and a whore. If you know what’s been going on, then you know she’s involved in the local porn business. What trash. You’d expect more from a senator’s daughter, eh? I mean, she could at least go to California and get involved in the real thing.”
 

“Where are you holding her?”
 

Grant smoothed his hair. “No one is holding anyone against their will, Longville. Constance Patrick hates her father, hates him, and she has good reason to. She came to us with a blackmail scheme.”
 

“That’s not the way I heard it.”
 

“Sure. This Nookie character was mad at her girlfriend over some kind of junkie’s disagreement. She had some tapes. But Connie had something a lot more interesting.”
 

I decided to sweet talk him. “You’re scum, Grant.”
 

“I’m in business here, Longville, the same as you. I dig up secrets. Sometimes the secrets that I uncover aren’t the ones people want me to find. I’m sure that you, of all people, know what I’m talking about. The Senator hired me for the same reason that he later hired you, not to find things, but to keep them hidden. He had secrets that he wanted forever buried. I accidentally happened upon his darkest secrets, and realized they were worth something to me.”
 

“And so you decided to blackmail him, maybe keep him from becoming governor.”
 

“Don’t be a fool. Of course I don’t want to keep him from getting elected. I’d love to have a governor in my pocket. All the better.”
 

That was illuminating, but there were still details that were murky; I took a stab in the dark. “So that’s why you had your partner killed?”
 

Grant’s expression soured. “Bowman found out what I was doing and came in here spewing a lot of his college boy ideals. He acted like politicians don’t immerse themselves in this kind of deal every day.”
 

“I still don’t understand why Bowman was in Birmingham.”
 

Grant laughed aloud. “He was an idealist. He found out where Baucom was from someone at Senator Patrick’s office. He was going to spill the whole thing to Baucom. I guess the two idealistic college men were going to put the universe right, in Bowman’s mind. He was a fool.”
 

I swallowed a lump in my throat. The man in the car, looking towards the Brook’s building, while I took a late breakfast. I watched him die.
 

“It was raining that day. I was late getting to the office. The rain must have held Baucom up, too. He didn’t get there until after Bowman died. I saw him get shot.”
 

“You saw Pitman, then?” Grant asked with a curiosity that sounded less than sincere, as he put his hands on his desk.
 

“The man in the blue raincoat. Yes. I saw him kill your partner. I saw him again today. Get your hands off your desk, Grant, and move away from it.”
 

Grant didn’t move away. One of his hands slid under the desktop.
 

“Grant, don’t—” I raised my .45 just as Grant brought a small silver automatic up from his desk drawer and fired. The roar of the .45 was deafening in the office. Grant spun like a top and went down in a way that would have been comical if were not so grotesque.
 

I walked around behind the desk, gun first. Grant lay on the floor, a dazed expression on his face. He managed to prop himself up against his chair. He looked down where the .45 slug had punched a hole beneath his lower rib, on the left side. There was a lot of blood, and it was flowing fast. Grant knew he was dying. He seemed to weigh this fact for a second. He looked up at me and opened his mouth to speak.
 

“The kid. The one she was carrying.” He tried to say something else, but his voice failed.
 

“What? What are you trying to tell me, Grant?”
 

He was silent, struggling hard to get his breath.
 

“Grant. Where is Connie Patrick?”
 

“Vince has her. Vince and his pal, Big Daddy Lorenzo. She’s at their place, out in Great Neck. Part of our deal. He has her. He’s keeping her stoned and locked up tight. I handle the money. Senator never heard their names.”
 

“What is it that you’ve got on Senator Patrick, Grant?”
 

“The rotten bastard. Here. Highway 65. You go see for yourself, Longville,” Grant hissed.
 

For a man so dirty, suddenly he seemed like he wanted awfully bad to come clean. Dying does that to a man, I knew; I had seen it before. He extended his hand, and even as he died, his hand opened up, and in his palm was a key ring. On it were two keys.
 

When I looked down at Grant’s face, I could have sworn there was the ghost of a smile that haunted the corners of the dead man’s mouth. I took the keys, then stood and looked down at him for another long moment.
 

I looked around the office. Grant’s shot had put a hole squarely through his own framed license that hung on the wall next to the door, as though his own corruption had, in the end, forever cancelled his membership in the brotherhood of those who struggled in the darkness of the world to find the light of truth, or something close to it. I shook my head, and turned to go. It was time to go see what answers lay out on Highway 65.

Chapter 19

The key had a cheap plastic tag that identified it as the property of All-Season Storage. The business in question was on the shoulder of Interstate 65, off a seldom used exit, and shared only by a decrepit gas station with 1960s style pumps on one side of the highway, and an overgrown lot on the other.