“Of course,” I said.
“I thought if anyone could help those people it would be Hawk, and I could tag along and get my story. And we could get it on in time for sweeps period.”
I smiled.
“That sounds swell,” I said. “Have you and Hawk known one another for long?”
“I’ve known Jackie most of my life,” Hawk said. Jackie put her hand lightly on his thigh.
“I hadn’t seen Hawk for years, and then, after my divorce, I ran into him again.”
“Gee whiz, Hawkster,” I said. “You forgot to mention Jackie when you hired me to solve the murders and save all the poor folks at Double Deuce. How’d you happen to hear about the problems at Double Deuce, Jackie?”
“The local minister, man named Orestes Tillis,” Jackie said. “He wants to be a state senator.”
“Anyone would,” I said. “So Hawk and I are going to clean up Double Deuce and you’re going to cover it, and Marge Eagen is going to be able to charge more for commercial time on her show. And Rev Tillis will get elected.”
“I know you’re being cynical, but I guess, in fact, that’s the truth. On the other hand, if you do clean up Double Deuce, it really will be good for the people there. Regardless of Marge Eagen or Orestes Tillis. And whoever killed that child and her baby… ”
“Sure,” I said.
“He’s just mad,” Hawk said, “because he likes to think he’s a catcher in the rye.”
“I’m disappointed that I didn’t figure it out something was up.”
“I don’t follow this,” Jackie said.
“Hawk seemed to be helping people for no good reason. Hawk doesn’t do that.”
“Except you,” Hawk said.
“Except me,” I said. “And Susan, and probably Henry Cimoli.”
“Who’s Susan?” Jackie said.
“She’s with me,” I said.
“I thought of money, or getting even, or paying something off. I never thought of you.”
“Me?”
“He’s doing it for you.”
Jackie looked at Hawk. Her hand still rested quietly on his thigh.
“That why you’re doing it, Hawk?” she said.
“Sure,” Hawk said.
She smiled at him, as good a smile as I’d seen in a while except for Susan’s-and patted his thigh.
“That’s very heartwarming,” she said.
Hawk smiled back at her and put one hand on top of her hand as it rested on his thigh.
Good heavens!
CHAPTER 12
As soon as we pulled into the Double Deuce quadrangle the Reverend Tillis and a woman with short gray-streaked hair came out of the building. Tillis had on a dashiki over his suit today. The woman wore faded pink jeans and a Patriots sweatshirt. Hawk got out of the car as they approached. Neither of them looked at me.
“This is Mrs. Brown,” Tillis said. “She has a complaint about the Hobarts.”
Hawk smiled at her and nodded his head once. “Go ahead,” Tillis said to her.
“They been messing with my boy,” the woman said. “He going to school and they take his books away from him and they take his lunch money. I saved out that lunch money and they took it. And one of them push him down and tell him he better get some protection for himself.”
The woman put both hands on her hips as she talked and her face was raised at Hawk as if she were expecting him to challenge her and she was ready to fight back.
“Where’s your son?” Hawk said.
She shook her head and looked down. “Boy’s afraid to come,” Tillis said. Hawk nodded.
“Which one pushed him down?”
The woman raised her head defiantly. “My boy won’t say.”
“You know where I can find them?” Hawk said.
“They hanging on the corner, Hobart and McCrory,” she said. “That where they be hassling my boy.”
Hawk nodded again. I got out of the car on Hawk’s side. Jackie got out the other.
“What you planning on?” Tillis said to Hawk.
“I tell you how to write sermons?” Hawk said.
“I represent these people,” Tillis said. “I got a right to ask.”
“Sure,” Hawk said. “You know Jackie, I guess.”
Tillis nodded and put out his hand. “Jackie. Working on that show?”
“Tagging along,” she said.
“Figure this is for us?” I said.
“See what we do,” Hawk said. “Otherwise no point to it. It ain’t exactly the crime of the century.”
“Mrs. Brown, I think you and I should allow Hawk to deal with this,” Reverend Tillis said, making it sound regretful. Hawk grinned to himself.
There was no one in sight as we walked across the project. Jackie stayed with us. I looked at Hawk. He made no sign. It was warm for April. Nothing moved. The sun shone down. No wind stirred. Jackie took a small tape recorder out of her shoulder bag.
Ahead of us was a loud radio. The sound of it came from a van, parked at the corner. A couple kids were sitting in the van with the doors open. Major leaned against a lamppost. The big kid that Hawk had nailed last time was standing near him. The others were fanned out around. There were eighteen of them. I didn’t see any weapons. The music abruptly shut off. The sound of Jackie’s heels was suddenly loud on the hot top.
Major smiled at us as we stopped in front of him. I heard Jackie’s tape recorder click on.
“What’s you got the wiggle for, Fro?” Major said. “She for backup?”
The kids fanned out around him laughed.
“Which one of you hassled the Brown kid?” Hawk said.
“We all brown kids here, Fro,” Major said. Again laughter from the gang.
Hawk waited. Still no sign of weapons. I was betting on the van. It had a pair of doors on the side that open out. One of them was open maybe six inches. It would come from there. I wasn’t wearing a jacket. The gun on my hip was apparent. It didn’t matter. They all knew I had one, anyway. Hawk’s gun was still out of sight under a black silk windbreaker he wore unzipped. That didn’t matter either, they knew he had one too.
“What you going to do, Fro, you find the hobo that hassed him?” Major said.
“One way to find out,” Hawk said.
Major turned and grinned at the audience. Then he looked at the big kid next to him. “John Porter, you do that?”
John Porter said “Ya,” which was probably half the things John Porter could say. From his small dark eyes no gleam of intelligence shone.
“There be your man, Fro,” Major said. “Lass time you mace him, he say you sucker him. He ain’t ready, he say.”
Hawk grinned. “That right, John Porter?”
The cork was going to pop. There was no way that it wouldn’t. Without moving my head I kept a peripheral fix on the van door.
John Porter said, “Ya.”
“You ready now, John Porter?” Hawk said.
John Porter obviously was ready now. His knees were flexed, his shoulders hunched up a little. He had his chin tucked in behind his left shoulder. There was some scar tissue around his right eye. There was the scar along his jawline, and his nose looked as if it had thickened. Maybe boxed a little. Probably a lot of fights in prison.
“Care to even things up for the sucker punch?” Hawk said.
“John Porter say he gon whang yo ass, Fro,” Major said. “First chance he get.”
The laughter still skittered around the edges of everything Major said. But his voice was tauter now than it had been.
“Right, John Porter?” Major said.
John Porter nodded. His eyes reminded me of the eyes of a Cape buffalo I’d seen once in the San Diego Zoo. He kept his stare on Hawk. It was what the gang kids called mad-dogging. Hawk’s grin got wider and friendlier.
“Well, John Porter,” Hawk said, friendly as a Bible salesman. “You right ‘bout that sucker punch. And being as how you a brother and all, I’ll let you sucker me. Go on ahead and lay one upside my head, and that way we start out even, should anything, ah, develop.”