Soul Circus (33 page)

“I don’t know for sure,” said Strange. “But he’s never done it to anyone I knew.”

McKinley looked down at the body of the Sig lying in his lap, then back up at Strange. “Why didn’t you kill me? I’d a killed you.”

“I’m not you,” said Strange. “And anyway, ain’t enough left of you to kill. You’re through.”

“You don’t know nothin’, Strange,” said McKinley, grimacing horribly, showing his bloody teeth. “You the one’s through. One phone call from me is all it’s gonna take. You and everyone you know, all a y’all gonna be under the eye. You gonna lose everything, Strange. Your license, your business, your family. Everything.” McKinley tried to smile. “
You
the one’s through.”

The fat man’s threats rippled through him. Strange stared at him but said nothing more. He redrew his knife, bent down, and cut the bindings on McKinley’s feet. Then he severed the ropes that held his wrists. McKinley brought his arms around and dropped his hands at his sides.

Strange walked from the house.

MCKINLEY found his cell on the floor. He grunted and got himself up on his feet. He went around the house turning lights on as he dialed Mike Montgomery’s number. But he only got the message service again. He hit “end” and dialed the number for Ulysses Foreman.

“Yeah.”

“McKinley here.”

“What’s goin’ on, dawg?”

“I need you out here to my place on Yuma. Bring that extra magazine for the Sig with you, man. I lost the one you sold me. I’m alone right now; I’m not even strapped.”

“I can get it to you tomorrow. Or you can send someone out here —”

“I wanted it tomorrow I would have
called
you tomorrow. Now, you gonna damage our business relationship over this?”

“You got no call to take a tone with me.”

“Just bring it, hear? Or maybe your woman would like to bring it out herself.”

McKinley listened to dry air. Foreman’s voice, when it returned, was strangely calm.

“Ain’t no need for you to bring my woman into this, big man.”

“You gonna bring it?”

“Yeah, I’ll come out.”

“And stop by the CVS store for some gauze, and that surgical tape stuff, too. I’ll get you for it later.”

“You have an accident?” Foreman’s tone was almost pleasant.

“Never mind what I had,” said McKinley. “I expect to see you soon.”

McKinley cleaned his chest up over the sink. The cut started to bleed again, and he pressed a rag to it to make it stop. While he held it there, he tried Mike Montgomery again.

“Goddamn you, Monkey,” said McKinley when he got the recording. “Where the fuck you at?”

ULYSSES Foreman got his leather shoulder holsters from out of the closet and put them on. He found his 9mm Colt with the bonded ivory grips, checked the load, and slipped it into the left holster. From the nightstand he withdrew Ashley’s .357 LadySmith revolver holding jacketed rounds. He holstered the LadySmith on the right. He stood in front of the bedroom’s full-length mirror and cross-drew both guns. He holstered the weapons and repeated the action. The revolver was a little light.

Foreman got into a leather jacket. It was warm for any kind of coat, but necessary to wear one in order to conceal the guns. In the basement he found the Sig’s extra magazine and put it into a pocket of his leather. He clipped his cell to his side, got a few cigars out of the humidor, and a cold beer out of the refrigerator, and went outside to the back deck. He lit a cigar, drank off some of his beer, and looked up into the sky. It was a clear night, with most of a moon out and a whole burst of stars.

Foreman phoned Ashley Swann on her cell. She answered on the third ring.

“I’ve been waiting for you to call,” she said.

“Told you I would,” said Foreman. “Wanted to get up with you, ’cause I got to go out and do some business for a while.”

“Everything all right?”

“Fine,” he said, closing his eyes. “Tell me where you’re at.”

“I’m out beside the soybean field. My daddy hasn’t cut the grass yet. It’s tickling my toes, long as it is. It’s wet from the dew.”

Foreman tried to imagine her then. In his mind she had on that pair of salmon-colored pajamas and she was barefoot, holding a glass of chardonnay in one hand, holding a Viceroy with the other. Smiling ’cause she was speaking to her man. Standing under the same moon and stars he was standing under right now. Not beautiful like a model or nothin’ like it, but his. And he was smiling now, too.

“I love you, baby,” said Foreman.

She chuckled. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

“No,” said Foreman. “Wasn’t hard at all.”

“Can you come down here? Daddy would like to see you.”

“I will,” said Foreman. But even to his own ears his voice sounded unsure.

“Tell me you love me again, Ulee.”

He told her so, and ended the call. He stood there for as long as he felt he could, thinking of all he had and what he’d do to keep it. Smoking, drinking, and admiring the sky.

WHEN Strange had cleared out of the immediate neighborhood, he pulled the Caprice over to the curb and phoned Quinn.

“Terry, it’s Derek. You at Devra’s place?”

“I am.”

“I got Montgomery’s address. I don’t know how we’re gonna handle this —”

“Derek, it’s all right.”

“What is?”

“Mike Montgomery’s right here, in Devra’s apartment. So’s the boy. Everything’s all right.”

Strange felt his grip loosen on the wheel. “I’ll be right over. Don’t let Montgomery go nowhere, hear?”

“Figured you’d want to talk to him,” said Quinn. “We’re waitin’ on you now.”

QUINN met Strange at the door and let him into the apartment. Quinn was smiling and so was Devra, the boy at her side. He was holding on to the tail of her shirt and did not let go of it when she moved to embrace Strange.

“Thank you,” she said. “You okay?”

“I’m real good now,” said Strange. “We alone here?”

“My roommate hasn’t been home for a couple of days. She’s been layin’ up with her boyfriend ever since I told her I don’t want that man burning smoke in front of my son.”

“Montgomery’s in the kitchen,” said Quinn. “Devra hooked him up with a soda.”

“What happened?” said Strange.

“Montgomery said he took Juwan to his place, but the boy couldn’t stop crying. Montgomery figured, he brought the boy back here, he could pick up some of his toys, might make him feel better.”

“He could have bought the boy some toys at a store,” said Strange.

“True,” said Quinn.

“How’d they get in?”

“Lady across the hall, a Mrs. Roberts, has a key. Devra reminded Juwan of that before they got split up.”

“Smart boy,” said Strange, and Juwan smiled.

“I’ve been getting our things together,” said Devra.

“Good,” said Strange. “I’m gonna call my wife, have her get a bed ready in our guest room and a sleeping bag for the boy. You can stay with us for a few days until Ray Ives figures out a better arrangement. You’ll like Janine, and she’ll like having a woman around for a change. I got my stepson, Lionel, he’s kid-friendly, too. And a dog. You into dogs, Juwan?”

“Will he bite me?”

“Nah, old Greco’s a boxer. Boxers love kids.”

“I’ll just finish packing up,” said Devra.

Quinn and Strange watched her walk down a hall, Juwan holding her shirttail tight.

“Let’s go talk to Montgomery.”

“Don’t be too hard on him,” said Quinn. “He doesn’t want to admit it, all that bullshit about picking up some toys here. He was bringing the kid back. He did a good thing.”

“I know,” said Strange. “I want to thank him, is all.”

Quinn looked at the dried drops of blood on Strange’s shirt and the blood still on his hand.

“You cut yourself?”

“Not
my
self, no.”

“You come down here, get all
violent
on people, Derek, it’s gonna be bad for business.”

“Come on, man, let’s go.”

Mike Montgomery was in the kitchen sitting at a small table, leaning back, his long hand around a can of Coke. Strange said, “Mike,” and extended his hand, but Montgomery did not move to take it, and Strange had a seat. Quinn leaned against the counter.

“I just wanted to tell you,” said Strange, “you did a real good thing tonight.”

Montgomery nodded but did not meet Strange’s eyes.

“You like kids, don’t you, Mike?”

Montgomery shrugged.

“How about football, you into that?”

Montgomery swigged from the Coke can and set it back down on the table.

“I got a football team for young men, just getting close to their teens. I could use a guy like you to help me out.”

“Shit,” said Montgomery, shaking his head, smiling but without joy. “I don’t think so, man.”

“Okay, you’re tough,” said Strange. “But you don’t have to be so tough all the time.”

“What else I’m gonna be?” said Montgomery, now looking at Strange. He wore his scowl, but it was a mask. His eyes told Strange that he could be,
was
, someone else.

“You can be whatever,” said Strange. “It’s not too late.”

Again, Montgomery said nothing. Strange slipped a business card from his wallet and dropped it on the table between them. Montgomery made no move to pick it up.

“You hurt him?” said Montgomery, his eyes moving to the blood across Strange’s shirt.

“Took him down a few notches, is all.” Strange leaned forward. “Tell me something: Who’s protecting McKinley?”

Montgomery shifted his weight in his seat. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. And if I did know I wouldn’t say. I already betrayed him once tonight. Don’t be askin’ me to do it again.”

“You’re better than you think you are,” said Strange.

Montgomery looked away. “Tell the little man I said good-bye, hear?”

He got up from the table and left the kitchen. Soon after, Strange and Quinn heard the front door open and close.

“You tried,” said Quinn.

Out in the parking lot, Mike Montgomery got into his Z, a car McKinley had paid for in cash and given him as a gift. He hit the ignition and drove over to Suitland Road, taking that out of D.C. and into Maryland. The cell phone on the seat beside him began to ring. He had programmed it to go to messages after six rings, but three was enough for his ears, and he reached over and turned the power off. McKinley had been trying to get him all night, and that ringing sound was like someone screamin’ in his head. Horace was his father and older brother, all in one. But he shouldn’t have hurt that girl like he did. And he shouldn’t have fucked with no kid.

Montgomery had no job and no way to get one. He could hardly read. Would be hard to punch a clock, have some boss in his face all the time after sitting high where he’d been these past couple of years. Trying to be straight, knowing he’d killed. But he’d have to figure all that out. For now, he had around fifteen hundred cash he’d saved and a full tank of gas. A gym bag, holding a change of clothes and his toothbrush, was in the trunk.

Montgomery followed Suitland Road over to Branch Avenue, which was Route 5. He knew that 5 connected with 301 when you took it south. And 301 went all the way to Richmond, you stayed on it long enough.

His mother was down there, and his baby brother, too. He was looking forward to throwing a football around with the boy. The little man loved football, and Montgomery did, too.

Mike hadn’t seen them for quite some time.

IN the salon parking lot, Quinn and Strange carried Devra’s bags to her car. Strange had phoned Janine, and after some discussion and debate, the plans had been made. Strange gave Devra the directions to the house on Quintana and strapped the boy into his car seat while Devra said good-bye to Quinn.

“Aren’t you gonna follow me?” said Devra to Strange.

“I’ll be along in a little while. Me and Terry got some more business to take care of tonight.”

She kissed him on the cheek and got into her car. They watched her drive away.

“So what did you do to McKinley?” said Quinn.

“You been dyin’ to know, haven’t you?”

“You had that look in your eye.”

“I just cut him some. Nothin’ a good brassiere won’t hide.”

“What was that shit in there about who he was working for?”

“I’ll tell you later. Still rolling it around in my mind.” Strange shifted his shoulders. “Can you handle a little more work?”

“I’m hungry.”

“I’m about to chew on my arm, too.”

“Donut doesn’t live too far from here.”

“I’ll follow you,” said Strange. “We find Mario, maybe we can end this day right.”

WHEN Mario Durham woke up on the couch, the television was still showing something he didn’t want to watch, and he was still alone. Quiet as it was, he guessed the girl Dewayne had put him up with hadn’t come home. He wouldn’t be surprised if she spent the night somewhere else. She wasn’t the friendly type, or maybe she was afraid of him, or afraid of what she’d do if she got around him too long. Dewayne prob’ly told her not to think about gettin’ busy with him, that he had too many women problems as it was. On the other hand, she could be one of them Xena bitches, didn’t like men.

Compared to most, Olivia had been a good woman, except for that one mistake she’d made. Shame she’d done him dirt, made him have to do her like he did. Anyway, he couldn’t change nothin’ about that now.

Durham washed his face and rolled on some of the girl’s deodorant from out of the medicine cabinet. He went to the kitchen and looked around for something to eat, but he couldn’t find nothin’ he liked. Then he thought of that market on the corner. He could get a soda and some chips down there, couple of those Slim Jims that his brother liked to eat and that he liked, too. And then he thought, While I’m down there, might as well do a little more business, put some cash money in my pocket. It had gone pretty smooth the last time.

He gathered up the rest of the dummies, and some cash to make change, and dropped the vials in a pocket of his Tommys. He fitted his knit Redskins cap on his head, adjusting it in the mirror so it was cocked just right, and left the apartment.