Montgomery had no job and no way to get one. He could hardly read. Would be hard to punch a clock, have some boss in his face all the time after sitting high where he’d been these past couple of years. Trying to be straight, knowing he’d killed. But he’d have to figure all that out. For now, he had around fifteen hundred cash he’d saved and a full tank of gas. A gym bag, holding a change of clothes and his toothbrush, was in the trunk.
Montgomery followed Suitland Road over to Branch Avenue, which was Route 5. He knew that 5 connected with 301 when you took it south. And 301 went all the way to Richmond, you stayed on it long enough.
His mother was down there, and his baby brother, too. He was looking forward to throwing a football around with the boy. The little man loved football, and Montgomery did, too.
Mike hadn’t seen them for quite some time.
IN the salon parking lot, Quinn and Strange carried Devra’s bags to her car. Strange had phoned Janine, and after some discussion and debate, the plans had been made. Strange gave Devra the directions to the house on Quintana and strapped the boy into his car seat while Devra said good-bye to Quinn.
“Aren’t you gonna follow me?” said Devra to Strange.
“I’ll be along in a little while. Me and Terry got some more business to take care of tonight.”
She kissed him on the cheek and got into her car. They watched her drive away.
“So what did you do to McKinley?” said Quinn.
“You been dyin’ to know, haven’t you?”
“You had that look in your eye.”
“I just cut him some. Nothin’ a good brassiere won’t hide.”
“What was that shit in there about who he was working for?”
“I’ll tell you later. Still rolling it around in my mind.” Strange shifted his shoulders. “Can you handle a little more work?”
“I’m hungry.”
“I’m about to chew on my arm, too.”
“Donut doesn’t live too far from here.”
“I’ll follow you,” said Strange. “We find Mario, maybe we can end this day right.”
Chapter 32
WHEN Mario Durham woke up on the couch, the television was still showing something he didn’t want to watch, and he was still alone. Quiet as it was, he guessed the girl Dewayne had put him up with hadn’t come home. He wouldn’t be surprised if she spent the night somewhere else. She wasn’t the friendly type, or maybe she was afraid of him, or afraid of what she’d do if she got around him too long. Dewayne prob’ly told her not to think about gettin’ busy with him, that he had too many women problems as it was. On the other hand, she could be one of them Xena bitches, didn’t like men.
Compared to most, Olivia had been a good woman, except for that one mistake she’d made. Shame she’d done him dirt, made him have to do her like he did. Anyway, he couldn’t change nothin’ about that now.
Durham washed his face and rolled on some of the girl’s deodorant from out of the medicine cabinet. He went to the kitchen and looked around for something to eat, but he couldn’t find nothin’ he liked. Then he thought of that market on the corner. He could get a soda and some chips down there, couple of those Slim Jims that his brother liked to eat and that he liked, too. And then he thought, While I’m down there, might as well do a little more business, put some cash money in my pocket. It had gone pretty smooth the last time.
He gathered up the rest of the dummies, and some cash to make change, and dropped the vials in a pocket of his Tommys. He fitted his knit Redskins cap on his head, adjusting it in the mirror so it was cocked just right, and left the apartment.
Mario walked down the darkened street to the corner where the market was still open and the streetlight stood. It was quiet out now. He didn’t wear a wristwatch and hadn’t thought to check the time. But he knew it must be late.
He stood on the corner, one hand in his pocket, his posture slouched.
A car came and went, and it was nothing. Then another came, five minutes later, and slowed down. The driver rolled his window down and Mario went there and they caught a rap. It was even easier this time, knowing when to listen and what to say. He was busy selling the driver a couple of dimes, so he didn’t notice the old gray Toyota as it passed.
Mario did his business and the car drove away. He pocketed two twenties for a double dime and walked back to the corner and stood under the light. He put one hand in his pocket and jiggled the vials he had left. He looked furtively around the street.
Mario heard light footsteps behind him. Before he could turn, he felt something hard and metallic pressed against the base of his skull.
“Deion,” said a dry, raspy voice.
He didn’t hear the shot or anything else. The bullet blew his brains and some of his face out onto the street.
Chapter 33
“SO you got no idea where your boy is,” said Strange.
“None,” said Donut, sitting on the couch, his knees scissoring back and forth. “I told the other cop all this already. How many of y’all they gonna send over before someone believes what I got to say?”
Quinn was standing by the shelf holding Donut’s video collection. He picked The Black Six out of the row and had a look at its box.
“Hey, Derek, you know Carl Eller starred in a movie?”
“Black Six,” said Strange. “Mean Joe Greene, Mercury Morris. Gene Washington was in it, too.”
“Like a Magnificent Seven with black guys, huh?”
“Except they didn’t need seven. Eller counted as two.”
“Don’t mess with that,” said Donut. “Please.”
Quinn returned the tape to its space. He was just killing time while Strange worked the ugly little man. It had taken them a while to find his apartment. This time of night, Donut’s neighbors had been reluctant to answer the knocks on their doors. But an old man on the first floor had given them Donut’s unit number.