Marcia Clark: Trouble in Paradise

I pulled out my cell and showed her the photo of Tammy Susie. I started to ask if she recognized the picture, but she abruptly held up a hand that clanked loudly with the movement of at least a dozen bangles. “Please! Respect my process. All of you, sit down.”

I sank into the chair gratefully. Between the mall and the outdoor market, I’d been on my feet for hours. When we were all settled, Madam held out her hand, palm up. “Now, give me the photo.”

I placed my phone in her hand, and she studied it through narrowed eyes. Then she set it down, picked up a fat cigar, lit it, and drew several hefty puffs. In the confines of that small box of a room, it was enough to make me gag. I felt my stomach lurch and asked myself why I’d been so gung ho to come here. A glance at Toni and Bailey confirmed they were having similar thoughts. Erica had turned a pale green.

When Madam Junaida had the cigar fully fired up, she took a strong pull and blew out a thick stream of smoke. Then she sat back and watched it curl toward the darkened ceiling. I tried to spot something-some shapes, maybe letters, anything that might be called a “sign.” All I saw was a cloud of foul-smelling tobacco. Not for the first time, I conceded it was a good thing I’d gone to law school.

Minutes passed while Madam Junaida gazed at the ceiling. Antsy and more than a little nauseated, I was just about to call it quits when she spoke up in a dusky, sonorous voice.

“You are afraid this girl has been harmed, correct?”

All those noxious fumes, and this was all she could come up with? Even without lighting up a stogie, I could’ve figured out that much.

But Erica was completely taken in. “Yes,” she squeaked.

“She is safe,” Madam pronounced.

Jeez, brilliant. No proof, no details, just the answer we obviously wanted. What a racket. “That’s really nice to know, but we need to actually find her,” I said. I could see Toni and Bailey smirking. Skepticism comes with the territory in law enforcement, but they tell me I take it to Olympic levels.

Madam Junaida gave me a sharp, knowing look and again spewed out a toxic cloud. After another smelly minute, she spoke.

“I see… a house with green shutters. And a dog… a yellow dog. And children.” She straightened up in her chair. “Your girl is there.”

“Where is there? ” Bailey asked. “Where’s that house?”

Madam Junaida studied the burning end of the cigar. “It is not far.” She looked back up at the ceiling. “Someone close to you knows of this place.”

“Close to who? To me? Toni?” I asked. “Erica?”

She shook her head. “That is all I see.”

I leaned toward Toni and whispered, “I’d like to tell her what I see.”

Toni gave me a warning look and quickly jumped in. “Thank you, Madam Junaida,” she said.

Madam Junaida escorted us out. I hung back as the others left. When we walked into the place, I’d only intended to ask if she’d seen Tammy Susie, not engage her services. But, bidden or unbidden, she’d taken the time to do her entire shtick for us, and I could see from her modest digs that business wasn’t exactly booming for her. “What do I owe you?”

She looked down her nose at me. No small feat, considering the fact that I had a good six inches on her. “You owe me nothing. For law enforcement, my services are free of charge. Go. Find the child.” And with that, Madam Junaida waved me away.

I went out to the sidewalk, where the others were waiting. Something about all of this rankled me. Something beyond the obvious-and typical-bullshit chicanery factor. Bailey picked up on my mood.

“What?” she asked.

I replayed our introductions in my mind. “Did you tell her we were cops?” I asked.

“No,” Bailey said.

“Then how’d she know?”

Bailey frowned, but further discussion was curtailed when Toni, who’d been studying her phone, broke in. “There’s a residential section just a few blocks north of here.”

Bailey looked unhappy. “I don’t know. This seems like a gigantic turd hunt. We have no idea where that house is, if it even exists, or if Tammy Susie’s really there.”

I looked at Erica-she seemed crestfallen. Madam Junaida’s pronouncements had given her a real blast of hope. I sighed. “On the other hand, what’s another ten minutes in the grand scheme of things?” I asked. Having found the girl’s cell phone nearby, we at least had reason to believe we were close.

Erica nodded eagerly. “I agree! We have to try this! If we find Tammy Susie, being late won’t matter. And if we don’t…” She trailed off.

“Okay,” Toni said. “But let’s make it quick.” She followed the blinking blue circle on her phone, and we followed her. In mere minutes we began to see small houses interspersed with businesses, and pretty soon there were only houses. A surprising number of them had signs in the window that said fortune-tellers could be found within. Apparently Erica was right: Arubans were big on this sort of thing. That was probably good news for the cigar business. Capitalism at work.

Some intriguing aromas wafted out of the homes we passed. Fish, a predictably popular choice for islanders, seemed to be cooking everywhere, but I also detected the smell of a rich lamb stew and…“Pumpkin?”

“I read that pumpkin soup is a real fave here,” Bailey said. “Supposed to be fantastic.”

“You read? ” Toni asked. Bailey couldn’t even drum up the interest to read a dinner menu, let alone take the time to look up exotic culinary specialties.

“Or maybe Drew told me,” Bailey said.

Toni and I exchanged a knowing smile. That was more like it. Drew was a true gourmet. Before he’d settled on the idea of opening his own bar, he’d toyed with the thought of setting up a haute cuisine restaurant.

We moved up and down the blocks but saw no green shutters. Or yellow dogs. Plenty of children, though. They flew by us with happy abandon on bikes, on skates, on skateboards, and on foot. A couple of little girls in leotards and sunflower headdresses strutted past us with stately importance. I guessed they were headed for the same parade as the costumed guys we’d seen at McDonald’s.

Time was running out, and this whole escapade was starting to feel like a wild-goose chase. Or, as Bailey so poetically put it, a “turd hunt.” The fact that we were willing to go in search of a house with green shutters was a serious measure of our desperation. I was beginning to understand how people got snookered into losing their life savings to clowns like Madam Junaida.

We’d just turned the corner on our fourth block and I was about to suggest that we give up after this street when Erica stopped dead in her tracks and pointed to the street sign. “ MalmokWeg! I saw that name on a call sheet a few days ago! Remember, Madam Junaida said the place was known to one of us? Well, it is-to me!”

Before I could tell her that it was probably just a coincidence, Erica was off and running, her head swiveling as she scanned both sides of the street for a house with green shutters. We had to run to catch up to her and nearly knocked her down when she again came to an abrupt stop and turned to her right. Sure enough, there it was: a house with green shutters.

“Well, what do you know?” Bailey said.

“Yeah?” I said. “Then how come our fortune-teller didn’t mention the bird?” I pointed to a rooster strutting through the front yard.

“Birds move around,” Toni said. “It’s probably just visiting.”

“Oh, come on,” I said. “There’ve got to be other houses with green shutters.”

“You see any?” Toni asked. She had me there.

Bailey strode up the front walk and knocked on the door. There was no response, so she knocked harder. After a few seconds, a woman’s voice yelled from inside, but I couldn’t make out what she said. Not over the noise of a barking dog. Toni nudged me, but I shook my head. So what if Madame Junaida said there’d be a dog? From what I’d seen, everyone around here had dogs. I was about to say as much when I saw Erica staring at the door as though it were the Rosetta stone. No need to squash her hopes. She’d see for herself soon enough that Tammy Susie wasn’t here. I held my tongue.