The Killing King of Gratis (8 page)

Millie’s usual cocaine supplier was arrested days before her murder and she was looking for someone to take his place. She came to Newt, who turned her away at first. Millie wore him down, of course, and he finally agreed to help her. Newt himself didn’t use cocaine, but did know where every bad thing could be found in Gratis.

He met Millie in the parking lot of the country club and she followed him over to CJ’s Pool Hall. CJ’s was located five blocks from the center of town. Inside were a few tables where regulars played for small money and an old bar where cheap beer and malt liquor were sold in cans. They stopped selling bottles after the owner, Charlemagne Jackson, was cut with one while breaking up a fight. The thirty three stitches he got in his cheek did nothing to improve an already ugly face.

Charlemagne’s son, Buster, sold cocaine out of the back, trading in powder and rock. He was always at his table, nursing a beer and waiting for the next customer. According to Newt he introduced Buster to Millie and left. Newt had no interest in being around during the transaction.

When Delroy and Kero got back to Gratis they went straight to the Daddy Jack’s. It was humming like any other night when they walked in the door.

Damn
, thought Kero,
you wouldn’t know I was gone
.

They went into the back office and were served barbeque sandwiches and a bucket of beer. After eating half his sandwich and opening his second beer, Delroy was the first to talk.

“Let’s go over to CJ’s and see what we can find out. I can definitely see Buster being involved in something like this. I know all his brothers, and they don’t really value human life. Hell, remember Tomasso?”

Tomasso was Buster’s big brother. He was pulling a fifteen year stint in the state penitentiary for cutting a man’s face off while his wife and children watched. It was basically a drug deal gone bad, but Delroy saw the pictures and read the reports. Nobody does what Tomasso did, with what one witness described as a “happy grin,” without enjoying his work. Buster was never indicted, but everyone knew that Tomasso was collecting drug money for him. Owing money to Buster was like borrowing a dollar from the devil. One could never pay the interest on time.

“We do that and there’s gonna be blood all over the place. Let me rephrase that, there’s gonna be our blood all over the place. That’s Buster’s backyard. Let’s figure out something better than that.” Kero knew that CJ’s was nowhere for two “detectives” to be found on any night, especially if they were asking about Buster’s potential involvement in a murder. Two detectives could go missing pretty quickly in that part of town.

“Well, we can’t go to Tommy. He’ll mess it up, arrest Buster, and arrest us since we spoke with Newt and won’t tell him where he is. What do you think we oughta do?”

“Let me consider it tonight. Nothing’s going to happen if we start again in the morning. It’s been a long day bouncing around in my truck, and I’m gonna finish this barbeque and maybe go get some more.”

This sounded like a solid plan to Delroy. He and Kero planted themselves into a booth at Daddy Jack’s, ordered some drinks, and talked about the day. A cover band was singing an old Tams song down in the Rendezvous, and “Be Young, Be Foolish, Be Happy” drifted up the stairs as the two talked into the night. Soon their tale-telling turned to high school and family memories. They both laughed as they ordered new drinks, the laughter getting louder with each new round.

Delroy walked home after a couple of hours to sleep. He was able to forget his troubles, if only for a few stolen moments, sitting with an old friend in an even older red booth. He needed this time to stop worrying, to recalibrate his mind. There would be plenty of time to worry tomorrow, and all the hot summer days after that.

T
ommy was getting tired of anything to do with Millie’s case. He was a decent man and didn’t like thugs being part of the investigation. That didn’t stop him from meeting Franklin Knox at the country club that morning, along with Freddie Boyles and Tim Motte, II.

Knox was calling these meetings every three or four days to get updates on his daughter’s case and chew ass if he wasn’t satisfied. That morning he was in the mood for the latter, sitting there with a bloody mary in one hand and the Proclaimer in the other.

“I was just reading Johnnie Lee’s column and it sounds to me like she knows as much as I do, you damn idiots.”

Knox took the celery out of his drink and started gnawing on it. Red drops dribbled down his chin and onto his white shirt. “Tommy, maybe you need to hire her and let her take over the investigation, maybe we need our first female sheriff in this county.”

“Look at what she says here: “It seems Attorney Jones has been seen leaving town with the saloon keeper. These good friends of Newt MacElroy travel freely wherever and whenever they want, and still MacElroy is free. Moreover, my sources at the Sheriff’s Office tell me that Attorney Jones’ nephew and niece, surely two of the main witnesses in this case, are nowhere to be found despite efforts to the contrary. No witnesses, no arrests, nothing. While a town and father grieve, our Sheriff’s Office stands by and does nothing, hands in pockets.”

“Well, gents, it goes on and on. Sounds to me like she’s making a point.”

Tommy could only take so much. “Franklin, you want her as your sheriff, you can have her. I’m putting pressure on Delroy to help me with my investigation. He and Kero can find things it would take a warrant for me to get. Delroy will tell me what he learns, and we’re watching them all the time. We’re just not so obvious that an old maid like Johnnie Lee would be able to tell.”

Broyles piped in, “What do you mean about warrants? If you need a warrant, I’ll make sure it’s legal and solid.”

“Sure, Mr. D.A., I’ve heard that before. I can recall at least half dozen times when Delroy whipped you in court based on your ‘legal and solid’ lawyering.”

“To hell with you Tommy. You can’t do your job so now you’re accusing me of not doing mine. I have to clean up the messes your deputies make every damn day.”

“Shut up.” Knox looked at this team he assembled and just shook his head. “I swear, if I didn’t have the investigative help from Atlanta, I would ask the GBI to handle this, and don’t think they wouldn’t if I asked them. Unfortunately, they wouldn’t tolerate my private investigators, so I’m stuck with y’all. That doesn’t mean I can’t do whatever I need to make you do your jobs. You!” he said, pointing to Motte.

“You work ass to cheek with Tommy on everything. I don’t mean only if he comes to you. I mean on everything. I expect you two to be together twenty four hours a day until Millicent’s killer is found. If your daddy doesn’t like it, I’ll fix that. If any warrants, phone taps, or anything else is needed, I want you to get it for Tommy.”

“Broyles, you start working on whatever it is you lawyers do to get access to Delroy’s niece and nephew. Hell, I think they know something, and who the damn hell is Delroy Jones to keep them from me? I remember when that little son of a bitch ran around in short pants getting chased out of the pool for trespassing here at the club. He ain’t gonna dictate to me when and if I do a damn thing.”

Franklin put down his nub of a celery stalk and turned up his glass until it was dry.

“Well, shitbrains, let’s try not to let Ms. Lee make you look any more dumbass than you already are.”

At that he stood up and left for the locker room. He was exhausted by the day already, missing the little girl who used to sit in his lap.

T
he next morning Delroy woke up feeling much the worse for his trouble. He downed two cokes before he went upstairs to bathe and change. He cleaned up and brushed his teeth for what felt like the first time in days. On the way to Daddy Jack’s he called Cozette.

“How are the children doing? Are they minding you?”

“Delroy, you know they are. Matthew’s here keeping an eye on them and they just bother him all day long.”

Delroy was glad that Matthew, Cozette’s brother, was looking after Meg and Peck. He wasn’t outgoing, but being 6 feet 4 inches and 275 pounds more than made up for it.

Delroy defended Matthew after he got into a bar fight a few years back. Two men, neither of them Matthew, ended up in the hospital. Matthew walked on that case and since then always addressed Delroy as “my lawyer.”

Cozette told him that Matthew called Peck and Meg “my lawyer’s kids” and acted like a huge mother hen. He limped after them wherever they went, surprisingly fast for a large man with three knee surgeries during his playing days at the University of Georgia.

“Anybody snooping around?”

“Not that we’ve seen. We’ve got the gate locked at the road, and nobody is gonna be able to walk here without going over the gate and down the drive. You know how tough that is to do without drawing a little attention.”

Delroy did know. Cozette’s dogs were always running the property. If anyone came up the drive, whether on foot or by car, they knew. If one was on foot and met the dogs they got no further until Cozette or Matthew came to save them. Delroy never met them on foot, but previously made the mistake of leaving his windows down while coming up Cozette’s drive. After a couple of hounds nearly jumped into the car, he learned to keep his windows up.

“Cozette, what can you tell me about Buster Jackson?”

“I know you don’t want to mess with him. He’ll kill you if he thinks it may help him. Hell, he’ll kill you for sport if he thinks he can get away with it. What’s he got to do with all this?”

“Newt dropped Millie off at CJ’s to buy coke from Buster. According to Newt, he left after making the introduction and that’s the last anyone saw of Millie.”

“Buster is cold blooded as hell, but he’s not dumb enough to mess with Franklin Knox’s daughter. It’s too high profile and doesn’t make good business sense. He might try to screw her, but he wouldn’t kill her. That being said, Newt is an asshole to introduce her to someone like Buster.”

“You’re preachin’ to the choir Cozette. The more this plays out, the more Newt pisses me off. Anyway, what would you do if you were trying to find something out about that night without going to Buster and asking him. I really don’t want to do that.”

Cozette pondered the question. If Delroy had been with her he would have seen her sniffing a new bottle of The Root Doctor’s Own. It held a ‘Constipation B Gone’ elixir, and Cozette was unsure about the smell. She put the bottle down, deciding that an ‘exotic’ odor might be okay with this particular potion.

“Go see Althea Lacey. She lives across from the pool hall in one of those old mill shacks. She sees everything that goes on over there. Catch her before two or three in the afternoon, though. After that she’s either buying crack or stealing something.”

“Thanks Cozette. Sounds like a plan, better than the one I have anyway.” He hung up the phone.
Why didn’t I think of that?

Delroy knew Althea well enough. He represented her once when the Department of Family and Children’s Services, or DFACS for short, tried to take her son away, and again when she was arrested for burglary. Althea kept her son and never got indicted on the burglary charge. She held Delroy in some esteem.

She also thought Delroy was cute and offered to pay him in “damn good lovin’” for any legal work he did. He insisted on cash but thanked her for the offer nonetheless. There was no need to be ungracious about such things.

Delroy got to Daddy Jack’s and parked his Suburban. As he walked in he had a sense of déjà vu. He was starting too many days like this. Kero barked at him when he sidled up to the bar.

“What the hell are you looking so sunny about. You look like a girl scout who just sold her first box of thin mints. Seriously, I don’t have to miss Newt when you’re wearing a shit eating grin like that.” Kero was hungover.

“Well champ, I have a possible solution to our Buster problem. If you pour me a weak Jack and Coke I’ll let you in on it.”

Kero thought for a second about knocking the smartass right out of Delroy’s grin. His hangover wouldn’t let him, so he poured the Jack and Coke instead.

When all this is done,
thought Kero,
I’m gonna give him a big old bar tab and I’m gonna make him pay it.

Delroy told Kero about Althea. Kero liked the thought of talking to her rather than Buster, but also knew she was half full of lies and half full of crack. He went to high school with Althea and she had been a normal girl. She drank some and liked to have fun, but there was nothing unusual about that.

She stopped coming to class their junior year. Kero thought she moved but then saw her one day walking behind the old train depot. She was disheveled and her belly hung out of her shirt, slightly protruding like someone on the cover of National Geographic. A glass pipe dangled from her fingers, and then he knew that she was on crack. After that he never talked to her like a classmate again. She was just another person who threw away her life. It pissed him off.

“Delroy, why don’t you go talk to her by yourself? She knows you. I’m afraid she’ll be quiet around me because she’s ashamed, and she oughta be.”

“I can do that. What are you gonna do today?”

“Well, I still have a business to run. I’m short one Newt, which means I can probably get twice as much done. Call me or come on by after you see Althea.”

Delroy left and made his way to Althea’s place. He hoped she would be home and not so high on crack that she couldn’t help him. He knew the odds of that were mediocre. Given the last few days, though, mediocre was starting to look pretty good.

Damn
, he thought,
seeing Althea might even be the highlight of my week
. He couldn’t help but laugh and turned up the radio on his way to see his old client. This time he needed her help, and hoped she wouldn’t charge him as much as he charged her. He also wasn’t sure what he would do if she insisted on “damn good lovin” as her fee. He hoped he wouldn’t find out.

L
ife had not been good to Althea Lacey.