The Man in 3B (30 page)

“He’s a nice man. I have a lot of respect for him. He’s been raising his son alone since the boy was in elementary school.”

As the detective was writing all of this down in her notebook, her blank expression didn’t give away anything about her thoughts, so I
came right out and asked her, “Why? Do you think he killed Daryl?” I didn’t think she’d say yes, but if she did, at least I’d be able to warn Ben that they were looking at him.

“We’re not sure yet,” she said. “We heard from some other tenants that he’d had a pretty heated argument with the deceased. Almost came to blows.”

Despite our recent disagreements, I felt a need to protect Ben. “Oh yeah, they had an argument, but it was nothing. Just a misunderstanding. And it wasn’t like he was the only one who argued with Daryl. Hell, him and Slim got into it physically. Avery Mack and him had words too. And there were those gangbangers he ran off from the building when they were attacking Benny.”

“Oh, so you were there when Ben and Daryl argued?” It was the first time the male detective had spoken up in a while. The bad thing was this: He was frowning when his partner first brought up Ben, but now he seemed more interested in hearing about him. All because of me and my big mouth. Well, I was going to have to keep talking now to make sure they stopped focusing their attention on Ben.

“Yes, I was there for it,” I confirmed, “but like I said, it was just a misunderstanding. It wasn’t anything to kill someone over.”

“What was the fight about?” the female cop asked.

Dammit. I was getting sick of this. “Um, I don’t know. I didn’t really see the whole thing,” I lied.

“I see,” she said, narrowing her eyes like she didn’t believe me. “Well, do you think he’s capable of murder?”

I straightened my shoulders and spoke confidently. “No, I don’t think he’s capable of murder. The man’s a New York City fireman. He saves lives; he doesn’t end them. Just because Ben argued with Daryl doesn’t mean he murdered him.”

The female detective gave me a skeptical look. “No, it doesn’t necessarily mean that, but I think we all can agree that Ben Wilkins didn’t like Mr. Graham. And who knows more about setting a fire than a fireman, right?”

I opened my mouth but then realized that she was trying to put
words in it, so I closed it and thought for a second before I spoke. “Look, all I know is that Ben Wilkins is a good, decent man. He’s a 9/11 hero and the one who put out the fire so it didn’t spread. I think everyone in this building owes him a debt of gratitude. If you need to know anything else about his situation with Daryl, I think you should talk to him.”

“We already did,” she said. “Somehow he doesn’t seem to remember the details of his disagreement with Mr. Graham. But don’t worry. We’re going to get to the bottom of this.”

The morning after Daryl’s death, I woke up in pain. Everything hurt—my head, my back, and of course, my heart. I still couldn’t believe that he was dead, and I didn’t want to believe what I’d suspected and what the cops had confirmed the night before: Daryl was murdered.

I was grateful to be in the bed alone as I lay there with tears flowing freely down my face. Slim had gone out as soon as the sun came up, saying he had things to take care of before he headed back down to Virginia. I usually hated it when he was away, but this time I was looking forward to having a few days apart, both to mourn Daryl’s loss and to give Slim a chance to cool off. He’d been in a pissy mood ever since they dragged us down to the police station for that group interview last night. They didn’t interview us individually, and the questions weren’t even that deep, but being in such close proximity to the law was enough to have Slim on edge. If he saw me crying over Daryl now, he just might kick my ass.

As you can imagine, Slim wasn’t exactly heartbroken over Daryl’s death. He probably figured that with Daryl out of the way, he had nothing left to worry about when it came to me. The truth was that even before the fire he had nothing to worry about. As long as Slim kept providing me with those little blue boxes, I would be his for life. It wasn’t really a question of me loving Slim or Daryl better because cocaine was my one true love.

I sat up and stretched, then headed over to my dresser to get something to numb the pain. The familiar blue box was there waiting for
me, and I felt instantly more relaxed at the sight of it. I scooped up some of the white powder in my fingernail, placed it underneath my nose, and inhaled. A pleasurable chill raced through my body and put a smile on my face. What a great way to start off the day.

I heard my phone chirp on my night table, so I took one more hit and went to pick it up. It was a text from my father.

hey sweetie. just checking in on you.

I’d sent him a quick text the night before to tell him about the fire and Daryl’s death, but I guess he hadn’t had a chance to answer until now.

I texted back:
yeah daddy. I’m good. everything okay on your end?

i’m fine. just enjoying the sun.

At least the sun was shining in his life. There was nothing but doom and gloom this way. I really was glad to hear that my dad was doing well.

wish i could be there.
I was fishing for an invite. I would love to get out of this place for a while.

so do I, but this is no place for you right now. and i’m way too hot.

i understand.

It took a while for his next text to come through, and for a minute I thought maybe our conversation was done. Then I read his next text and wished he had ended the conversation.

so how’s Connie holding up?

Just the mention of her name sent me back to the dresser for another hit. I hated when he asked about that bitch. I thought about not responding at all but thought better of it. I had no idea where my father was. The last thing I wanted to do was piss him off and have him stop communicating altogether.

I sent him another text, cursing Connie the whole time. Why the fuck did he care how she was?

she’s mourning daryl, daddy. let it go.

It took a while before he replied. I think he hated Daryl as much as I hated Connie.

He finally sent this back:
She’ll get over him.

I doubt it.

He had no idea the hold Daryl could have on a woman. He obviously didn’t want to argue the point with me, though, because he quickly sent back a good-bye.

love you. gotta go.

I stared at the screen, hoping I hadn’t pissed him off too much. I was about to text an apology when I was startled by a loud knock at my door.

“Who the hell is pounding at my door like you the damn po-po or something?” I said as I went to check the peephole. Putting my eye to the door, I realized there was a good reason why they were pounding like the damn po-po—because they were!

I took a step back from the door and put my hand over my chest like it might slow down my racing heart. My eyes darted around the living room, checking every table and chair to make sure Slim hadn’t left anything lying around that would get us into trouble. The cops knocked again, which made me jump.

“Uh, who is it?” I called through the door.

“Ms. Mack, it’s Detectives Thomas and Anderson. We spoke briefly last night. We’d like to ask you a few more questions.”

I considered refusing to open the door, but that thought disappeared quickly. The best way to draw the attention of the cops would be to piss them off, and I did not need any more headaches in my life right now.

I slipped my cell phone into the pocket of my sweatpants and opened the door just a crack.

“Yes?” I asked.

He flashed his badge, although there was no need. I definitely recognized him from the night before. “I’m sorry to bother you so early in the morning, but we’d like to talk to you some more about Daryl Graham and the circumstances surrounding his death.”

“I thought we answered all your questions last night.”

“You did, but some new information has come to our attention, and we’d like to clear it up without dragging you back down to the station.”

There was no denying the threat implied by his tone. If I didn’t cooperate now, they were going to bring me back to the precinct. Considering how much coke I had in my system at the moment, I really didn’t want to be in a building filled with cops. “What do you want me to do?”

He glanced down at the chain on my door and said, “For starters, you could invite us in so I can explain. This really won’t take long at all.”

I sighed in defeat as I unlatched the door to let them in. Slim was going to kill me later if he found out I’d let them in without a warrant, but shit, what choice did I have? Besides, in some little corner of my heart, I wanted to help them punish Daryl’s killer.

“Thank you,” the detective said as he and his partner came in. I closed the door and offered them a seat, but they both declined.

“Is your boyfriend Slim around?” the female cop asked as she searched the room with her eyes.

“No, he’s at work. Why?”

“Just wondering.” She picked up a picture off an end table and showed it to her partner. “This you and your mom?” she asked.

“Yeah, she died a few years ago,” I answered, wishing I could tell that bitch to put down my mother’s picture.

The male detective got in on the small talk act. “Oh, sorry to hear that,” he said. “You look like her. She was pretty.”

“Thanks.” I gave him a half smile, wishing I could tell them to hurry up and get to the point.

“So you said your boyfriend’s at work. What kind of work does he do?” the female cop asked.

I gave her the answer I always used when someone asked about Slim. “He’s self-employed.”

She stopped poking around my shit and sat down next to me on the sofa. “Doing what?”

“Is this why you’re here? To harass me about my boyfriend’s profession?” A nervous laugh escaped my lips. The female detective stared at me intensely without a word. If she was trying to make me more nervous, it was sure as hell working.

“What, do you think we killed Daryl or something?”

That put a smug smile on her face, like she’d accomplished her goal of making me paranoid. Stupid-ass cop was on a power trip.

“No,” she said. “To be honest, I think you loved him—as much as someone like you can love another human being.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I looked up at her partner, expecting him to check her, but he only stood there.

“I think you know exactly what I mean.” She gave me a knowing look that made me very uncomfortable. “By the way, what’s that on your lip?”

“Huh?”

She pointed at my mouth. “Right there. The white powder on your lip.”

“There’s nothing on my lip.” I quickly wiped my mouth on my sleeve. There was no doubt in my mind that both of them knew exactly what the white powder was.

“Not anymore there isn’t. I think you got it all now,” the male cop said as he sat down on the other side of me. At least he didn’t sound sarcastic like his partner. I hated cops in general, but I decided he was the lesser of two evils.

“Why are you really here?” I asked the male detective.

Even though I’d turned my back on her, it was the female cop who laughed out loud and answered me. “I was asking myself the same thing.” She stood up from the couch and said, “Let’s get the hell outta here, Thomas. You know I don’t do well with junkies. I’ve got a good mind to lock her ass up for possession.”

I felt beads of sweat break out on my forehead as my heart rate skyrocketed. What the hell was going on here? Had they really come by to talk about Daryl or was this about drugs? With the coke that I’d already snorted that morning, I was having trouble focusing my thoughts to figure out how I was going to talk my way out of this. As
it turned out, I didn’t have to, because the male detective got a text that distracted them both.

“Shit, what else can go wrong?” he said after he read the text.

“What’s up?” his partner asked.

“That’s the M.E. office. The family’s already down at the morgue, trying to claim the body. They must have some pull, because they’re about to throw him on the table, then turn him over. If we want a thorough autopsy, we gotta slow them down, because it looks like they’re planning on cremating the body.”

His partner screwed up her face, making her even uglier than she already was. “Let me make a call to my contact at the M.E.’s office. See if I can slow them down long enough for us to get there. I’ll meet you at the car.” She threw a glance in my direction as she went to the door. “Now you know why I send my kids to private school, Thomas. With a teacher like her as a role model, the kids have no chance but to fail.”

After she left, her partner turned to me and shrugged. “She used to work vice. She can spot an addict a mile away.”

“Well, there aren’t any addicts around here.” I straightened my back and tried to sound indignant, but it must not have been convincing because he shook his head and chuckled.

“Look, let’s just get to the point, okay? I didn’t come here to waste my time.”

I folded my arms and clamped my mouth shut.

“Krystal, we’ve interviewed quite a few people from the building, and more than one of them said they heard you saying that you know who really killed Mr. Graham.”

“I have my suspicions.”

“Are those suspicions based on fact, or are they fantasies brought on by the cocaine you sniffed before we arrived?”

I was getting sick of these cops harassing me about my habit when they should have been focused on a murder. “Dammit, did you come here to hassle me or to find out who killed Daryl?”

“I’m twenty years homicide, not vice. I’m here to solve a murder.”

“All right, then,” I said, thinking he was done.

“But I will not be made a fool of,” he added. “If you commit a crime in front of my face, I will arrest you. Fair enough?” He gave me such a serious look that I knew, nice guy or not, he was not to be fucked with.