The Drowning Pool (14 page)

“Hey, guys,” he called out to his nephews, “we’re about ready to eat. Hustle on out of there!”

His declaration was greeted by good-natured splashing in his direction. A fracas began over the towels, of which only one dry one remained. Mark, being smaller, lost the battle and was forced to run into the house for one. A few minutes later, he returned with an odd expression on his face.

“Uncle Mike,” he said, large brown eyes opened wide, “there’s this big black lady, must be seven feet tall, kind of messy looking, and she asked for you.”

Everyone turned to look at him. “Oh, that’s Bert St. Croix,” he said, flipping a hamburger. “Mark, go bring Detective St. Croix around back before she sweats to death on our front lawn.”

The first thing that Gardner noticed was Bert’s face. It was battered, just the way Mark had observed. He made no comment, instead introducing Bert to his family. Everyone looked at her for a moment with a kind of awe; the woman definitely had presence.

“Please sit down,” Evie said, moving toward Bert. “You must be hot. Have something cold to drink, ’cause everything’s ready.” She put a place setting in front of their guest.

Gardner smiled at his daughter, pleased by the courteous way she had behaved.

“I’m not hungry,” Bert said dejectedly.

“What happened?”

Bert looked around at the gathered family and Kim.

“You can talk in front of them. I’ll vouch for their integrity. They’ve all taken the oath of silence.”

“If you say so. The fact is, I blew it, just like you thought I would.”

“Would you like me to take a lie detector test to prove that I didn’t think you’d blow it?”

“Come on, don’t hand me that bull!” Bert was clearly in a foul mood.

“Did you pick up Sonny?”

“No!”

He was going to have to pull the information out of her, like a tooth extraction, but he had to know what happened.

“You might as well tell me. Get it over with.”

He watched Bert clench her fist in a militant manner and saw that the knuckles were bruised and raw. “I got to the house around 11:30 a.m., figuring the kid would be straight by then. The mother—her name, incidentally, is Nora Blake—came to the door and refused to let me in. Well, to make a long story short, I got in anyway. She proceeded to yell hysterically. That must have been some kind of signal, because three big blond dudes materialized, and they all looked like Sonny except they were older and two of them were actually bigger. They came on pretty strong, but I wasn’t going to back down. So then they eased up a little, claimed the kid was still asleep and I couldn’t talk to him until after they’d held a family conference. The oldest acted as spokesman, claimed they were thinking of hiring a lawyer for the kid. It seems the mother told them about last night. Anyway, they’re convinced the police want to stick Sonny for the Bradshaw murder. I told them we only wanted to question him, but they told me in no uncertain terms I couldn’t see him until later. I wasn’t having it. Then the mother started to cry and they told me to clear out. It got a little physical.”

“You should have called me.”

Bert shook her head.

“At the very least, you could have called for backup.”

“It happened too fast.”

“You want to haul them in for assault?”

“No point. I gave as good as I got. They weren’t being malicious, just trying to protect family.”

“Suppose I go back with you after we’ve eaten? They’ll have talked to Sonny. Whether they’ve decided on a lawyer or not, we still get to question him.”

“Sounds good. I think the kid’s got the answers we’re looking for.”

“I agree,” Gardner said, passing Bert a plate with a steak and a burger on it. “Sonny’s got a child’s mind in a man’s body. We’ll have to probe that mind, and it won’t be easy. Children are known to be perverse, even the dull ones.” Gardner passed Kim the bowl of potato salad.

“The kid appears to be our key to solving the murder. He’s the one real link to our perp, who I hope won’t realize that until after we’ve had a chance to extract some info.”

Bert grabbed some buns for the meat. “You’re thinking April Nevins, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know. As far as I’m concerned, the field’s still wide open.”

Evie heaped some of everything on Bert’s plate.

“You could let our guest take what she wants,” Gardner told his daughter with some amusement.

“We can’t let a guest in our house starve. Stop talking so much, Dad, and eat or you won’t have strength to track down criminals.”

Mike never argued with Evie when she acted that way; she reminded him too much of her mother. Apparently Bert was not about to argue either; she dutifully ate most of the food on her plate and then downed a cold beer.

“Wonderful meal,” Bert said, “especially the salads.”

“I fixed the salads,” Evie said, beaming. “You have to take home some fresh vegetables from the garden. We grow them organically.”

“The girls are great at that,” Gardner said with a warm smile in his daughters’ direction.

“Dad helps us with it,” Evie said, lowering her eyes.

“Working the earth gives me a feeling of satisfaction. Let me get you some coffee and dessert. Kim brought us a terrific chocolate cake.”

“Don’t say that until you’ve tasted it,” Kim said.

Jean and the boys were loud in their appreciation and praise. Kim smiled at them. He liked watching her face light up that way.

“Chocolate’s always a winner with these kids. Good choice.” Gardner squeezed Kim’s hand.

“I’ve got to be going.” Bert was already on her feet.

“Oh, no! Dessert’s the best part of the meal.” Before anyone could stop her, Evie was hurrying back into the house.

“I’ll give her a hand,” Kim said, following Evie.

“You’ve got a fine daughter there,” Bert said, sitting down again.

“And a determined one,” Gardner said with a smile. “Just sit back and enjoy it. Evie won’t be happy until she sees you forced to loosen your belt a notch.” He noticed although Bert was tall, she was trim, nearly gaunt.

Coffee, fresh fruit, cake and chocolate chip ice cream materialized as did an ice pack for Bert’s bruises.

“Thanks, Evie. You’re a terrific hostess,” Gardner told his older daughter. She smiled, pleased with the compliment.

The phone rang and Evie went back into the house to answer it. Kim cut the cake and gave everyone plates. When Evie reappeared, she was frowning. He could tell from her expression that the call came from headquarters.

“They say it’s important,” she said in a subdued voice.

He and Bert went into the house immediately. He sent Bert to the kitchen phone while he ran upstairs and listened on the bedroom extension.

“We’re here. What is it?”

“This is Nash. We don’t have all the facts yet, but I thought you’d want to know. About twenty minutes ago, Louise Scofield was admitted to County Regional through the emergency entrance. We got a call from a neighbor lady who heard a loud quarrel going on in the Scofield apartment. You know how thin the walls are in those new flats. By the time the patrol car arrived, there was already an ambulance.”

“Know what went down?”

“From the report, I’d say Mrs. Scofield was beaten up.”

“What happened?” Bert demanded.

“Her husband claims she accidentally fell down a flight of stairs.”

“What does she say?”

“Nothing, she was unconscious when they brought her in.”

Bert muttered some curses under her breath.

“Are you holding Scofield?” Gardner asked.

“Nope. Granted it looks suspicious, but we have to wait until the wife comes around to hear her story.”

“Scofield at the hospital?”

“He was when the patrol car left.”

“We’ll be at the hospital as soon as possible.” Gardner hung up the receiver and rejoined Bert in the kitchen.

Her eyes narrowed to an angry squint. “You bring in Sonny. I’ll take care of Scofield.”

“We can handle both of them together.”

“And waste valuable time?” Her full lower lip set.

“You’re not fooling me, you know.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Wasn’t one fight enough for today? I know you want to go after Scofield so you can beat him up.”

“Someone ought to beat the crap out of that bastard!”

“That won’t accomplish anything.”

“Won’t it?” The initial explosion was over, but she was far from controlled. “I’ve handled cases like this before. Husbands, boyfriends, stalkers. The women get restraining orders, but it never stops these creeps. Scofield will understand to leave his wife alone only if someone throws the wrath of God into him.”

“So you’re just going down there to knock the guy around before you find out what actually happened?” They faced each other like gunfighters at high noon.

“All right, I see your point. I’ll talk to the asshole first.”

“Aren’t you kidding yourself? Can you manage that kind of restraint?”

“I can handle it,” Bert asserted. “I’m not a rookie. If we’re going to work together, you’ve got to start trusting me.”

She did have a way of making things personal. Gardner knew he ought to refuse outright, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Things hadn’t gone right with Sonny, and her ego didn’t need another putdown. Still, what if his vote of confidence turned out to be at Scofield’s expense? Besides, violent manhandling of suspects would not be tolerated by the department. But in the end, he decided she was right: he had to trust her. There was no way they would be able to continue to work together otherwise.

“Bring Scofield in,” he yielded. “Just remember, we don’t know what really happened between his wife and him. If you touch him without provocation, you could lose your job. Maybe that’s what you want, but I hope not. I’m putting my faith in you, just like you asked.”

Bert viewed him with a fixed, sullen stare. “Anything else?”

Gardner shook his head. “See you back at headquarters later.”

As she left, Gardner wondered if he would have been as sensitive to his partner’s feelings if Bert weren’t black and a woman. Probably not, he conceded. Kim came into the kitchen and looked at him questioningly.

“I have to go out for a while.”

“So I gathered. I’ll give the girls a hand cleaning up.”

“Could you stay? I hate to ask it, but my nephews need supervision. And Evie’s going out this afternoon.”

“No problem. I don’t have any special plans.”

“I really appreciate it.” He hugged her and kissed her lips, trying hard to keep it casual.

“Really, Dad, they don’t let you alone even on your day off.” Evie stood there, hands on hips, giving him a Medusa-like stare as he adjusted his shoulder holster.

He walked to the front hall closet and grabbed a tie and jacket. They weren’t exactly a match, but who cared anyway?

“Dad, don’t worry if you can’t get home in time to meet my date tonight.”

“Oh, I’ll be home all right.”

Evie gave him a dubious look.

“I mean it.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“I’ll be back as early as I can. I won’t forget.”

Evie’s mouth puckered as if she’d been sucking on a sour lemon. Then she walked away.

“It’ll be okay with her,” Kim said. She squeezed his hand reassuringly.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel less guilty about leaving.”

Kim shook her head. “No. Honor bright. You’re a good dad. Evie will figure that out. She’s a smart girl.” Kim hugged Gardner.

He gave Kim one last regretful look and took off. He drove his own car to Sonny Blake’s house, listening to police calls on the way. He called himself all kinds of a fool for letting Bert go after Scofield alone; it was just asking for trouble. She should be coming back to Sonny’s house with him. The business with Scofield could have been allowed to cool for a while. He should have handled it better.

Sonny’s house looked even more dilapidated in the daytime. The sight depressed him as he rang the doorbell. As before, Sonny’s mother came to the door, but this time, she opened it no farther than a crack.

“Oh, you again.” Annoyance at his presence was undisguised by her manner of speech.

“May I come in?”

“Did that big black woman come back with you?” She looked at him through the faintly down-turned corners of her washed-out blue eyes.

“At the moment, Detective St. Croix is on another assignment.”

“All right, I guess you can come in.” She grudgingly opened the front door. “She was real pushy. My son decided to call your office and complain about her.”

“Because she’s African-American?”

“No, she was rude too. She talks nasty, real tough.”

“Don’t expect a police detective to act sweet as strawberry jam while investigating a homicide.”

She began wringing her hands as she had done on the previous evening. “There’s no excuse for bad manners.”

“Please tell Sonny I’ve come to talk with him.”

“He ain’t here no more.”

Gardner felt as if he’d been dealt a severe body blow. “I thought we agreed last night that you would keep him here until we had a chance to talk.”

“He’s grown now—nearly grown, anyhow. I can’t keep him where he don’t want to be.”

“You realize his lack of cooperation makes him look guilty.”

“Guilty of what? Not murder!” Her pale eyes widened.

“Complicity, at any rate.” He managed to keep his voice cool and steady.

“Sonny would never do anything wrong, except things that wicked whore might have forced on him.”

“And what would that be?”

“Well, how should I know!”

“You had a family conference. Did you decide whether or not Sonny should have a lawyer?”

“He didn’t want one. Told us all to keep out of it, said he was going to tell everything he knew. But first he had to find something, something that would prove he wasn’t guilty of murder.” She paused to rub her sweating palms against the flowered housedress she wore.

“Go on. What else did he say?”

“I already told you every word.”

“Not quite. Where did he say he was going?”

“He don’t tell me everything. Just said he was going out.”

Gardner knew enough to ask first, because without a warrant he was violating the law, but Bert’s attitudes seemed to be rubbing off on him. Gardner quickly walked upstairs and glanced around. There were three small bedrooms and a bath. None of the rooms were occupied. Old wallpaper was peeling in a room that had Webster High banners and football clippings hanging. The bed was unmade, so he was reasonably certain that Sonny had slept there.