George Pelecanos - Hell To Pay

“Could’ve been a thirty-eight that boy pulled on that crap game. Could’ve been anything.”

“Could’ve been. But this is too much of a coincidence to leave alone.”

“I don’t suppose the gunslinger left his name.”

“Matter of fact, this knucklehead did say his name. But she can’t remember it. Admits she was too intoxicated and up on weed, and scared in the bargain. We’re out looking for Ray Boyer right now. He didn’t show up to his job today, so we’re visiting the bars he likes to go to. Hoping that he’ll remember this boy’s name. Man’s a Vietnam veteran, so I’m thinking he’ll be able to identify the caliber of the gun as well.”

“Sounds promising.”

“Just a feeling, Derek, but it looks to me like we’re gonna make an arrest on this today.”

“Keep me posted on it, you don’t mind. You got my cell number, right?”

“I got it.”

“All right, then. Thanks, Lydell.”

Strange slipped his cell into its holster on his side. In his rearview, he saw Quinn walking up Warder, two cups of coffee in his hands.

Strange reached over and opened the passenger door. Quinn dropped onto the seat and handed Strange one of the cups.

“Thank you, buddy,” said Strange.

“I know you like to sip water on a surveillance.”

“Coffee makes me pee.”

“But you’re gonna need the caffeine to make up for all the food we haven’t eaten today.”

“I forgot all about it. Not like me to forget being hungry.”

Quinn chin-nodded up the street. “Which one is it?”

“Third one down from the corner there. Only one has a porch got nothin’ on it. There, see?”

“They show themselves yet?”

“No. But I expect, they got any brains at all, they’re staying inside.”

“What about the one Lamar saw?”

“Charles White. His Toyota’s not out here. Maybe Lamar’s right about that boy leaving town.” Strange sipped his coffee. “How’s that girl, man?”

“Bad,” said Quinn.

Quinn described what he had seen, and how he had kept what he knew from the police. Strange told Quinn that he had spoken to Lydell Blue, and that he had kept everything from his friend as well. He told Quinn that the police seemed very close to finding the killers. He told Quinn what he had in mind.

“So you’re just giving up on those boys,” said Quinn. “No possible hope, ever, is that what you’re sayin’?”

“For them? That’s right.”

“You can call the MPD in now if you want to. End it right here.”

“You think that would end it?”

“There’s no death penalty in the District, if that’s what you mean. But they’d do long time. They’d get twenty-five, thirty years. Maybe on a good day they’d get life.”

“And what would that do? Give those boys a bed and three squares a day, when Joe Wilder’s lying cold in the ground? Joe’s gonna be dead forever, man-”

“Derek, I know.”

“Then you’re gonna read in the paper how the police solved the murder. The big lie. Can’t no murder ever be solved . Not unless the victim gonna get out of his grave and walk, breathe in the air. Hug his mother and play ball and grow up to be a man and lie down with a woman… live a life, Terry, the way God intended him to. So how you gonna solve it so Joe can do that?” Strange shook his head. “I’m not lookin’ to solve this one. I’m looking to re solve it.”

“You telling me, Derek? Or are you trying to convince yourself?”

“A little bit of both, I guess.”

“You do this,” said Quinn, “you lose everything. You believe in God, Derek, I know you do. How you gonna reconcile this with your faith?”

“Haven’t figured that one out yet. But I will.”

Quinn nodded slowly. “Well, you’re on your own.”

“You don’t want any part of it, huh?”

“It’s your decision,” said Quinn. “Anyway, I’ve got something I’ve got to do tonight myself.”

Strange looked Quinn over carefully. “You’re goin’ after that pimp.”

“I have to.”

“It’s not just what he did to the girl, is it? That pimp tried to punk you out.”

“Like you said: It’s a little bit of both.”

“Sure it is.” Strange smiled sadly. “Shit’s older than time, man. Garfield Potter killed Joe Wilder ’cause he thought Joe’s uncle disrespected him on a hundred-dollar debt. Now I’m gonna do what I think I have to, my idea of making it right. And all of it started ’cause this boy Potter thought he got took for bad.”

Quinn finished his coffee and dropped the cup on the floor. “I gotta go.”

“Go ahead, then. But don’t forget your gun. It’s under the seat there.”

“I won’t need it.”

“Neither will I.”

“I better leave it. Can’t be carrying it around town now, can I?”

“Plus, you wouldn’t feel right, would you, to have any kind of drop on that pimp?”

“That’s not it.”

“Okay. You need a ride?”

“I’ll catch a Metrobus up Georgia. I can get off at Buchanan and pick up my car.”

“You gonna hang out at the bus stop, in this neighborhood? At night?”

“I’ll be all right.”

Strange reached over and shook Quinn’s hand. “I’m gonna pray that you will be.”

“Keep your cell on,” said Quinn, “and I’ll do the same with mine. Let’s talk later on, all right?”

Strange nodded. “See you on the other side.”

Quinn got out of the car and shut the door. Strange eyed him in the rearview, walking down Warder in that cocky way of his, hands in his leather, shoulders squared, going by groups of young men moving about on the sidewalks and gathered on the corners.

Quinn went under a street lamp and passed through its light. Then he was indistinguishable from the others, just another shadow moving through the darkness that had fallen on the streets.

STRANGE made a call on his cell. He spoke to the man on the other end of the line for a long while. When their conversation was done, Strange said, “See you then.” He hit “end,” punched Janine’s number into the grid, pressed “talk,” and waited to connect. He got Janine on the third ring.

“Baker residence.”

“Derek here.”

“Where are you?”

“Workin’ this Joe Wilder thing. Sittin’ in my car.”

“Where?”

“Out here on the street.”

“You’re not drinking coffee, are you?”

“I did.”

“You know how it runs through you.”

Strange found himself smiling at the sound of her voice. “Just wanted to call and make sure Lionel got to practice.”

“Lydell came by and got him. Told me to tell you, if we spoke, that they found this guy, Ray something, and picked him up.”

“Ray Boyer. He say if Boyer gave him anything?”

“Not yet. Lydell said that Boyer wanted to lawyer up first. Something to do with making sure the paperwork’s right so he gets the reward money.”

Strange knew now that he didn’t have much time.

“Why don’t you knock off for the day?” said Janine. “Sounds like the police have this in hand.”

“I think I’ll stay out some, see what happens.”

“Must be getting chilly in that car. And I know you’re not lettin’ the heat run. You, who’s always telling Ron Lattimer that a running car kills a surveillance, what with the exhaust smoke coming out the pipes-”

“You know me too well.”

“That I do.”

“You asking me to come over and warm myself up?”

“Are you ready to do some serious talking?”

“Not yet,” said Strange. “Soon. But I didn’t just call about Lionel and practice.”

“Well?”