STRANGE sat behind the wheel of his Caprice in the parking lot of the St. Elizabeth’s McDonalds, the Aiwa minirecorder in his hand barely making a sound as the tape whirred, recording the conversation in the car. Devra Stokes was beside him on the bench. Her son, Juwan, sat in the back, diligently working on a cup of soft chocolate ice cream, humming to himself from time to time. It was hot inside the car; Strange had kept the windows rolled up most of the way in an effort to reduce the ambient noise.
“And he said this where?” said Strange.
“This one time?” said Devra.
“This time you distinctly remember.”
“Me and Phil were in his car, the Turbo Z. The one Granville had bought him? We were out in the lot of Crystal Skate. Back around then, that used to be where the mob liked to hang. I liked to roller-skate then, and so did Phil. Phil was good.”
“Do you have a date on this?”
“Not exactly. It was, like, a few days before Bennett Oliver got murdered in his Jag.”
“Why do you remember that so clearly?”
“ ’Cause when it happened, I thought of Phil right away.”
“Why?”
“This night at the skating park, Phil had drunk some wine and had a little smoke. We was in his Z that night, just talkin’. Phil said to me that Bennett had been caught on a wiretap. He said that Granville believed his uncle was gonna flip on him to the Feds, one of those plea-outs they do.”
“And?”
“Phil said that Bennett needed to be got.”
“To be murdered, right?”
Devra nodded.
“Answer for the tape, please, Devra.”
“Yes, to be murdered.”
“Did Phil say he was going to do it himself?”
“Yes. Phil said he was the one that would put the work in.”
“Clarify, please.”
“Phillip Wood told me that he was gonna kill Bennett Oliver.”
“Why him? Why not Granville?”
“Phil said it would be good for him to do it. Good for his career, I mean. It would remove another person above him, make him closer to Granville. In Granville’s eyes, it would make him his main boy.”
“Were there other instances where Phil talked about this plan?”
“I guess. But I don’t remember, like, specific. The night at Crystal Skate, it sticks in my mind.”
“And what happened next?”
Devra shrugged. “Bennett got shot.”
“Did Phil Wood say he’d done it?”
“No. After, he never said nothin’ about it again. And I didn’t ask. I just thought, you know, since he’d told me he was gonna do it, that he’d been the one. I figured it was better I didn’t know for sure. I’d seen what happened to some other people, knew too much.”
Strange shut off the recorder. “Thank you, Devra. That’s good. That’s exactly what we need.”
“Will I testify?”
“Yes, I think you will. My wife will have the subpoena today. It’s not that we’re against you; it’s only to make it official.”
“And then what?”
“I talked to Ray Ives. They’re going to get you and Juwan into an apartment, probably over in Northwest. Not the Section Eights. A step or two up.”
“What, I get a new name or somethin’?”
“No, it’s not like that. You keep your name and you’re not under any kind of guard. Witnesses are relocated in this city all the time. Long as you’re in another quadrant and you go about your life quietly, usually it’s fine.”
“Usually.”
“Right.”
“You know, living here in Southeast, you hear all about what happens to people who are hot. That Corey Graves thing?”
“I’m familiar with it,” said Strange.
“They got him charged with a whole lot of stuff besides the drug business he was runnin’. Witness intimidation. Hiding witnesses. Not to mention all the beef murders he did.”
“I’m not gonna lie to you. I know it’s risky, and so do you. Question is, why are you being so courageous?”
Devra looked out the window. “ ’Cause that motherfucker threatened me. He threatened my son, Mr. Strange. He talked mad shit about my mother, too. And he did things to me he shouldn’t have done.”
“Horace McKinley.”
“That’s right.”
“What did he do?”
Devra turned her head so that she faced him. “He put his hand on my privates and rubbed it there. He pinched one of my nipples until it hurt so bad I wanted to cry out. But I didn’t cry out. I kept it in. That fat man with his cigar breath, up in my face. I could have killed him then, I had a way. I had so much hate in me.”
“Where does he stay at?” said Strange. He heard a catch in his voice and swallowed, checking his anger.
“I don’t know. He hangs with his boys over on Yuma, the six hundred block, in a house, looks like a crack house with all that plywood in the windows, during the day.”
Strange touched Devra’s forearm. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. I admire you, the way you stood strong.”
“I’m ashamed for what I did when I was younger. Who I hung with, too. But that will never be me again. Just to do nothing, try to put it behind me, it’s not enough. I figure, sometimes you got to do something. Isn’t that right?”
“You’re a brave young woman.”
“Not really. Maybe I’m just foolish, like I always been.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Anyway, what should I do now? Just go back to work?”
“Yes, for right now. How long you on for?”
“Till closing time. She stays open till ten o’clock.”
“You don’t want anyone to think anything’s wrong. I’ll call you later at your place and tell you about the next step and the arrangements we’ve made.”
“Mom,” said Juwan, “this ite cream’s good.”
“I know it, baby,” said Devra, looking over the seat and smiling at her son.
“You’re keeping him with you?” said Strange.
“Yes.”
“What did you tell Inez today when you left?”