Latoya: Episode XII – Silhouettes of Survival

 

 

A black colored Range Rover without lights shot out of a dark turning. I immediately realized it was coming for me when I noticed that it had no lights. I had no chance to duck back into the restaurant because it was coming too fast. There was no nearby place or shelter that I could hide. I was right out in the open, feeling very much like a cornered rabbit.

I got the Luger out and started running towards the Range Rover with the crazy idea of running past it before it could get at me. I caught a glimpse of the driver. He was a little man with his fedora hat pulled down low over his face, crouching down behind the wheel. There was another man in the back of the Range Rover with what looked like a Thompson submachine gun in his hands. The gun’s barrel was resting on the top of the open window.

I lifted the Luger and pulled the trigger. The gun went off with a crash that deafened me. But it was a good shot because the bullet smashed the windscreen of the Range Rover and it swerved crazily as the Thompson submachine gun opened with a deafening clatter.

I was very lucky that the Range Rover swerved. If it hadn’t swerved, I would have been cut down by the stream of bullets from the Thompson submachine gun, which all smashed into the sidewalk about a yard ahead of me.

I jumped and threw myself face down near a curb. The Range Rover lurched across the road, the on-side wheels missing me by about four feet. It crashed into a mail box in a nearby traffic light. As I rolled over, the dark night lit up with gun flashes as my police bodyguards came into action. Bullets hummed through the air, and more glass in the Range Rover smashed. I hugged the  curb, feeling sweat on my face, as scared as a jack-rabbit that has heard the howl of a wolf. I listened to the sound of running footfalls.

Lying still, my Luger hand thrust forward, I looked over at the Range Rover.

The driver side door hung open. I saw a shadowy figure, crouching behind the car, then the Thompson submachine gun opened up again and a stream of bullets passed just above me. I pointed my Luger at him and pulled the trigger. My bullet must have hit him for he dropped the Thompson submachine gun and flopped on the sidewalk. He cursed and began to yelp with pain.

Jamal and Bruce came running up.

“Watch out!” I shouted. “He’s behind the car!”

Jamal darted across the road while Bruce, taking no chances, sprinted up the road, crossed to the other side so he could get a safe shot at the gunman.

I saw the crazy gunman snatch up the Thompson submachine gun and I yelled a warning to Jamal, who swerved. The Thompson submachine gun roared and Jamal went down, his gun falling from his hands.

Bruce fired three times.

The gunman dropped the Thompson submachine gun, tried to straighten, then dropped limply on the ground.

“He’s down!” Bruce called. “I got him!”

I got to my feet, feeling stiffness all over my body. The other three detectives from the restaurant at Oriel’s Kitchen came over. They had been crouching in the doorway during the shootout. The four of us joined Bruce on the far side of the Range Rover.

I looked at the dead man as he lay on his back on the sidewalk, still clutching on to the Thompson submachine gun. It was the crazy gunman that paid  Medgar and I a visit at our hotel room alright. His face was a snarling mask of death.

“There’s another man in the car,” I said to Bruce.

He looked in the Range Rover.

“You got him with your first shot,” he said, then went around the Range Rover and over to Jamal, who was sitting up, holding his arm and cursing.

Two police cars came roaring down the street, their sirens blasting.

Police Captain Donald got out of one of the cars and joined Bruce. They bent over Jamal, then leaving

Bruce to look after him, Captain Donald came over to me.

“What’s up?” he said. “Are you doing okay?”

“I guess,” I said, leaning against the wrecked Range Rover. “Is Jamal badly hurt?”

“He is hurt,” he said, staring down at the dead gunman.  “I don’t know about badly, but I think he’ll be okay.”

“Is he the man we are looking for?”

“Yes,” I replied. “You sound as if you’ve met him before.”

“No, I haven’t,” he replied.

An ambulance came up and two more Baltimore City Police squad cars. By now there was a big crowd, watching from the sidewalks.

Bruce came over.

“Have you seen this punk before?” Captain Donald asked, nodding at the dead gunman.

“No, sir,” Bruce said. “He’s a new one on me.”

“The good news is that the show is over,” Captain Donald said. “I suggest you go back to the hotel, Mr. Emeka. You go with him, Bruce. I doubt they’ll try again, but we won’t take any more chances tonight.”

“Come on, Emeka,” Bruce said. “The thrill’s over. I told you everything will be okay. It wasn’t that bad, right or wrong?”

“I guess you are right,” I said. “And tonight’s experience have given me something to throw in Medgar’s face for the rest of his life.”

I followed him to one of the police cars.

 

 

 

 

END OF EPISODE 12

P.S. Stay tuned for Episode 13, which  will be published here next Sunday.

 

Latoya: Episode XI – Dinner with Danger

 

 

Medgar is a good guy, but sometimes he behaves like a wayward lover: when you think you’ve conquered her, she will certainly desert you. At least that was how I felt after he refused to go with our plan. But I told myself that I won’t be discouraged by his cowardice.

 

Around five o’clock, I went up to Captain Donald’s office with Jamal tagging along behind.

 

“What’s up?” Captain Donald asked, shoving aside a file he was working on and waving me to a chair.

“I’m doing this alone,” I said. “Medgar doesn’t like the idea, and I don’t really blame him. Unlike me, he have a wife and a dog to worry about. I do have a girlfriend though – my sweet Tosha.  Anyway, his absence will make the job of covering me easier for your men – they will be covering one of us instead of two. Here’s the whole plan: I will leave here in a taxi and go to the hotel as soon as it’s dark. I will put on something that won’t show up in the dark. Then I’ll walk from the hotel to Golden Knives and Forks – it’s the name of the restaurant on the corner. I will have my dinner there. You can post some of your men in the bar. The Golden Knives and Forks is through the bar at the back. I will sit with my back to the wall, and if he starts anything in there, we will take care of him. If he doesn’t, I’ll walk from Golden Knives and Forks to the Parkway cinema. If still nothing happens, I’ll walk on to Henry’s bar at the back of the Zodiac nightclub. From there I’ll walk back to the hotel if he doesn’t start anything.”

Captain Donald was making notes as I talked.

 “I have a slightly different idea,” he said. “Taxis can get lost in the traffic, so it would be better if you walked from here to the hotel. The bottom line is that we don’t want to lose sight of you. We also don’t want this guy to know we are following you either. It’s got to be a trap, Emeka, if it is going to work at all. You will be on your own. Jamal is a good shot – I have no doubt in my mind about his capability. But he’ll have to keep out of sight. Are you sure you wanna do this, Emeka? This could be dangerous and you might get hurt. Please make sure you really want to do this.”

I suddenly realized that, as a young student doing my internship at the Baltimore Star, I was sticking my neck out recklessly. Perhaps Medgar wasn’t such a coward as I thought he was. I remembered my sweet girl Tosha. What would happen to her if I didn’t make it? This will kill her! I told myself I was doing this for her and that it was too late now to pull back.

“As long as Jamal gets him before he starts anything, I’m good with your suggestion,” I said.

“Jamal won’t be the only one,” Captain Donald said grimly. “I’ll put almost forty police officers on the job. They have been instructed to cover every twenty yards of the route. Sorry, Emeka, but  I can’t tell you who they are. Some of them will be in cars, and some will be behaving as the neighborhood loafers. A few of them will be hidden. So, if this asshole starts something, he will be squashed like a bug.”

 “Excellent!” I said, immediately relieved. “It’ll soon be dark enough for us to start the ball rolling.”

“I will go and finish the details,” Captain Donald said. “You take it easy now.”

 I spent the next two hours playing poker with Medgar. He said that playing this card with a condemned man like me makes him nervous. He also said that, although the game of poker bored him, he felt it was his duty to try to take my mind off the things that will be happening in a few hours. In any case, he wasn’t much of a poker player, and I pretty soon won twenty dollars off him.

 “You may never need this dough, Emeka,” he said when I asked him to pay up. “Should I just give you an I.O.U.?”

“Nope, Medgar” I said, holding out my hand. “I won the money, didn’t I? It’s my money and I need it now. If I get myself killed tonight, Tosha or even might not be able to collect from you.”

He handed over the money.

Talking about your estate, Emeka,” he said, (have you made a will yet?”

 Jamal came in.

 “You ready?” he asked. “We are waiting for you to tell us you are ready.”

 I got to my feet.

 “I have to leave you now, Medgar,” I said. “I will leave everything I have for you if I don’t come back.”

 “But, how about Tosha?” he asked.

“Tosha will be fine,” I replied.

 “Really?” Medgar asked, with his face brightening. “Can I have your desktop computer too?”

 “Sure,” I sneered. “You will have my desktop computer too, you punk.”

 “Let’s go,”  Jamal said, grinning.

 We went down the hallway to where  Captain Donald was waiting.

 “I got everything under control,” he said. “My men will be watching you like the hawk throughout the whole walk. Just keep in the middle of the sidewalk and don’t forget to keep to your schedule. So long as you do that, you should be fine.”

 “I hope so,” I replied. “Well, I have to keep moving, I guess.”

 Jamal said, “I will give you a minute, then I’ll come after you.”

 Nodding my head, I walked through the entrance, down the steps, on to the dark lonely street. I put my hand on the butt of the Luger pistol in my pocket and felt a little more confident.

“Be careful, Jamal,” I said as he came to the door. “Don’t shoot me by mistake.”

 He laughed.

 “You worry too much, Emeka,” he said. “You have nothing to fear, for I’ll take care of you.”

 He is obviously over-confident, and I began to wish I had thought up a safer idea to catch this crazy gunman.

 “Just be careful,” I said. “That’s all I ask.”

 “You got it,” he replied.

 Even though I was feeling naked and very scared, I summoned my courage and began to walk along the badly lit street, all the time keeping a tight grip on the  but of the Luger. About forty yards down the street I saw a big, black guy, leaning against the wall, smoking. He looked at me casually and as I passed him, he murmured, “I bet your heart is racing.”

 Without looking at him, I kept on.

I headed to the hotel and it seemed as if the walk down there is endless. My hair often stood up on ends every time a car passes me, and my heart skipped a beat whenever a man appeared. I was so scared that I jumped when I saw white cat running across the road. I was sweating by the time I crossed the road and climbed the steps to the hotel lobby. Pausing for a moment, I wiped my face and then walked in.

Stephen was thumbing through his magazine. He glanced up and nodded at me. A thickset black man sat in one of the chairs, reading the Baltimore Star. As I passed him, he said, “Bruce’s in your room. Don’t shoot him as you go in, okay?”

 “No problem,” I said.

 I climbed the old elevator and was literally dragged up to the first floor. I peered cautiously up and down the passage before getting out to make sure it is safe. When I didn’t see anyone lurking there,  I crossed the passage, knocked on my door, pushed it open and stepped cautiously to one side.

 “This is Emeka coming in,” I said into the darkness.

 The light snapped on.

 “Come on in,” Bruce said. He was sitting in one of the chairs in the room. I saw that he found my bottle of Vodka. From the look of the medium-sized bottle, half of the content had gone down his throat.

I entered and shut the door behind me.

“This place is as quiet as the cemetery,” he said. “Maybe that punk was bluffing.”

“I doubt it,” I said. “If you had seen him you wouldn’t be drinking my Vodka now.”

Bruce grinned.

“A punk like that doesn’t scare me off Vodka.”

 I went over and poured myself a glass of Pepsi.

Bruce went on, “You and Mr. Medgar will have a pretty good story to write, correct? What are you going to call it – when I was marked for death?” And he laughed.

I drank another glass of Pepsi and felt a little better.

“Well,” I said as I began to strip off my suit. “It is easy for you guys to laugh. Your are not putting your life on the line here.”

“You don’t know that,” Bruce returned. “But it’s a whole day’s work for me and I do hope we get this asshole.”

“I hope so too,” I said, putting on a dark suit. “This suit is better for me. “I finished the Pepsi. “Well, I’m hungry and a good sandwich is what I need now.”

“Two of our boys are already in the bar,” Bruce said. “And we have someone stationed in the restaurant too. He is stuffing his gut with food there. So you go ahead and have fun for you will be fine there.”

“Oh, I will,” I said, making for the door. “You be safe too.”

“I’ll be right behind you and Jamal,” he said. “Don’t walk too fast now.”

“No problem.”

I went down the stairs, nodded to Stephen and walked to the hotel door. When I looked into the street, I saw a car parked outside with two men sitting on it.

“Don’t worry about those two men, Mr. Emeka,” the man sitting on an armchair said. “They are with us.”

I nodded, walked down the steps and moved off towards Oriel’s Kitchen that was on the corner, some hundred yards from the hotel. Walking wasn’t easy for me because I was under tension. The crazy gunman might show up unexpectedly at any time. In fact, as I walked down the deserted, dark street, I had to force one leg in front of the other. My eyes are everywhere, and my heart skipped a beat when a car swung into the street. The car, a BMW, however, pulled up outside a tobacco store and the driver got out. I continued walking, with an effort, when I realized the car wasn’t coming for me. I had my Luger pistol half out of my pocket as I passed the car, and I was ready to duck, but nothing happened.

Breathing heavily, I pushed open Oriel’s Kitchen’s door and stepped into the brightly lit bar.

I saw about twenty people, most of them blacks, drinking and talking to one another. None of them even looked my way. I shed my coat and transferred my Luger to my jacket pocket. Next, I went over to the bar and ordered myself a Seven and Seven. While I was waiting for my drink, I looked around the bar. Two heavyset men – one of them was a white guy  and the other a black guy – sat by the restaurant door. Each of them had a bottle of Budweiser beer in front of them, and one of them winked as they looked back at me. I returned his wink with my now stiff eyelid.

The rest of the drinkers looked harmless enough. I finished my Seven and Seven and went into the restaurant. I chose a table that would allow me to sit with my back to the wall facing the entrance, so I can see anybody coming into the place.

I spotted the third cop at a table across the room as soon as I sat down. He is also a huge black guy, just like the previous two cops, and he gave me a cheerful grin as he continue munching contentedly. From the look on his face, I could tell that he obviously loved his assignment. Be sure to have your gun handy, I thought.

I ordered tuna sandwich and as I waited for it, I wondered if my anxiety will allows me to get it down my stomach. I felt damp behind my ears, and my stomach was fluttering like that of someone experiencing an allergic reaction.

But when the tuna sandwich arrived, it was so good that I basically gulp  it down without trouble. Al the time I ate I kept looking at the restaurant entrance. I knew it is possible that the crazy gunman might appear and I want to be ready for him when he does. A second thought, however, told me that I was alarming myself for nothing: there’s no way the gunman  could get pass the two guys out in the bar. I just wished I could believe this suggestion.

After paying my bills, I sat staring at the white tablecloth for a few minutes. I knew I was required to stick to my schedule, but it felt so nice and comfortable  and safe in this restaurant that I was tempted to stay longer than I should. Taking another walk in the dark wasn’t something I wanted to do at the time. But then, I had no choice. So, reluctantly, I  shoved back my chair and walked to the bar entrance.

 “I’m gone,” I said to one of the two heavyset men sitting by the door.

 “Excellent,” he growled. “I want this done pronto so I can get home sometime tonight.”

I thought that was a mean thing to say to me, but I could see his point of view. After collecting my coat and putting it on, I went out on to the street.

I had taken less than twelve steps towards the Zodiac nightclub when it happened…

 

 

 

 

END OF EPISODE 11

P.S. Stay tuned for Episode 12, which  will be published here next Sunday.

 

Latoya: Episode X – Hidden Assassin

 

 

I put the pack of photos on Captain Donald’s desk and shook my head.

“Our crazy visitor is not among that lot,” I said.

 Captain Donald puffed at his cigarette, and his fingers were tapping on the worn surface of his desk.

 “We still could not figure out who he was. My boys don’t know him. He is a complete mystery here. You think he meant business, don’t you?”

 “Oh yes – he does. He was  high on some drugs, and I am surprised he didn’t shoot us there and then.”

 Jamal, a tough black guy who was a Jamaican immigrant, showed tobacco stained teeth in a hard smile. He was one of the police officers Captain Donald had assigned to me as a bodyguard.

 “Don’t worry, Emeka,” he said. “I’ll take care of him if he starts any trouble.”

 I looked at my Omega wrist watch. The time was ten minutes after eleven.

“Well,” I said. “Keep your eyes open, Jamal. He might start any minute now.”

Captain Donald said, “I suggest you should stay here until we pick him up.”

“I have a different idea,” I replied. “The quickest way to get him is for me to show myself on the street. Then if he starts something, your boys can simply take care of him.”

Captain Donald don’t like the idea.

“You stay here until it is dark,” he said. “No need to show yourself in daylight. That would make it too easy for him. We may have arrested him by then.”

What he said made a lot of sense.

“I guess you win,” I said. “You guys wouldn’t give me a gun, will you?”

Captain Donald and Jamal exchange glances.

“Do you have a gun license?” Captain Donald asked.

“Of course I do,” I replied. “Though a foreign student and aspiring journalist, I still have to defend myself, don’t I?”

“Then we have no choice than to get you a gun,” Captain Donald said, looking over at Jamal. “Get him a gun, will you? And don’t forget to watch him, for you are now responsible for him.”

“Yes, sir,” Jamal said, looking as if the responsibility is weighing him down. He got to his feet and said to me, “What kind of gun do you want - Colt .38 Special or a Luger?”

“I’ll have a Luger,” I replied. “That would give me a lot of confidence.”

“Have a Browning,” Jamal said jokingly. “We’ve got one in our armory.”

“A Luger will do.”

While he was out of the room, I told Captain Donald about the guy with the tattoo in his forehead. He made notes while he listened to my story and then said he would send a man down to talk to Stephen.

“We should be able to get some information about him,” he said. “My boys are after the gold bracelet with a tiny triangle-shaped object and we are getting LaToya’s picture in the papers. By the way, she wasn’t one of the girls in the Hollywood, California troupe. Yes – we located the agent who got Breonna Adams and the other girls the job in Hollywood, California, and he couldn’t identify her picture.”

Looking at the pile of papers spread out on his desk, he said, “I’ll have to get on with my other work, Emeka. You go downstairs and wait. The boys downstairs will take care of you. However, I want you back here at around five o’clock so we will work out a campaign for tonight.”

I said I would and went downstairs where I ran into Jamal coming from the armory. He handed me a Luger and a clip of ammunition.

“Have you handled a gun before?”

“Yeah,” I said, “but give me lots of room. I haven’t be practicing shooting in a very long time.”

“In that case, be careful,” Jamal said. “I suggest you leave him to me.”

“Only if you see him first,” I said.

I found Medgar in a room with a high barred window, sitting in a table, scowling at his portable electric typewriter. Sitting by the door was Bruce, Medgar’s bodyguard, a tough-looking cop who looks like an Irishman.

“How are you doing, pally?” I asked Medgar.

“I just can’t focus on my writing when I’m expecting to be shot at any moment,” he replied. “That’s how I’m doing.”

Bruce laughed.

“He thinks I can’t protect him from the assassin’s bullet,” he said. “I keep telling him he is safe here with me but he won’t believe me.”

“I’ve never trusted a cop,” Medgar said, “and I never will.” He then looked at me. “What’s up?”

“Baltimore Police got my back,” I replied. “We are waiting until it’s dark. That’s when the whole action begins. As soon as it’s dark, we’ll go out and set a trap for the gunman.”

Medgar’s eyes popped.

“I don’t follow,” he said. “What do you mean – a trap?”

“Well,” I said. “The plan is simple: you and I will walk, side by side, around town, hoping he’ll spot us. And, if he starts something, these guys here will fill his body with lead.”

“I can’t believe you fell for this crazy idea, Emeka,” Medgar said. “Suppose they miss him?”

I pulled out the  Luger and flourished it.

“Then I’ll take him down with this Luger,” I said. “Everybody in Baltimore knows  they shouldn’t mess with Emeka.”

Bruce and Jamal laughed, but Medgar recoiled.

“Put that away, Emeka,” he said. “That’s how accidents happen.” He then leaned forward and said, “Who told you I’m going to go with you on this stunt of yours anyway? I gotta tell you now: I’m not going out on this street after dark – especially not after the warning from that crazy guy. I’m will be right here in this room until he’s caught. If you want to be a hero, go ahead and have fun. Like the Jews says, mazel tov (good luck). But, I’ll be right here in this room.”

I looked helplessly at Bruce and Jamal.

“See what I have to put up with?” I said. “Our friend here have no balls.”

“What are you worried about, Mr. Medgar?” Bruce said to Medgar. “We got your back.”

“I’m staying right here,” Medgar said firmly. “And, don’t try to convince me because it won’t work.”

I sat down.

“Take it easy, Medgar,” I said. “Let’s do some work.”

“I don’t mind working,” he replied. “That’s why Mr. Sessoms is paying me. But I will not be used as a bait for a trap. I’ve got a wife and a dog, Emeka. You seem to forget that always.”

“Alright, Medgar,” I said. “No worries. I’ll do it alone. But you’ll do more on the writing part.” I lit a cigarette. “Now, let’s get you started on this story.”

 

 

END OF EPISODE 10

P.S. Stay tuned for Episode 11, which  will be published here next Sunday.

 

LaToya: Episode IX – Deadline's Deadly Echo

 

One odd thing about prudence is that too much of it can be bad, or even deadly. For instance, timid drivers crawling along a highway create more risk than they avoid. Children who are over-protected from germs end up with a weaker immune systems. The list is endless. Nevertheless, in my current situation, I need all form of prudence in order to stay alive.

For a long moment, man with the gun and I stared at each other. Then he said, “Don’t move.” His voice was high pitched but slightly hoarse.

“Which of you is Emeka?”

“I am,” I said in an unsteady voice.

“Alright; now listen very carefully: you two must get out of West Baltimore tomorrow. In fact, get out of Baltimore City altogether. We don’t want you snooping around here. Go to another town – Middle River, Rosedale, or somewhere else. We don’t give a shit. But you must be out of West Baltimore by eleven tomorrow morning. We won’t tell you a second time – this is our first and last warning. And, if you think we are bluffing, stick around and you’ll regret it. Get it?”

I drew in a deep breath. By now I have recovered from the shock of seeing the gun. I was no longer afraid of him – instead, I was angry for his audacity to order us out of town.

“Whose order is this?” I demanded, glaring at him. “And who are you, anyway?”

“Never mind whose order it is!” he snarled. “Just do what you were told, when you were told.” He suddenly began to shake. He put his left hand against the wall to steady himself. I noticed that it was with great effort that he got himself talking again: “I would have taken care of you two punks right now if it wasn’t for the boss! You know what happened to Devon, don’t you? I will do that to you two if you’re not out of West Baltimore by eleven o’clock tomorrow morning.” With his hand on the door knob, he took a step back into the passage. “And don’t think the cops can protect you, for they cannot. Baltimore City don’t have enough cops to keep us from taking you  out. Don’t be stupid. Pack up and get lost!”

With that he reached for the door handle and slammed the door.

Medgar  and I remained motionless, listening to the quick, light footfalls going along the passage. Then when they have died away I got slowly to my feet and looked at Medgar.

“This guy’s a nutcase,” I said. “And he’s obviously high on some drugs, right or wrong?”

“Jesus!” Medgar exclaimed. “I warned you that this case is very dangerous.”

With a shaking hand, he grabbed his glass of cranberry juice and drained it.

“I was scared at first,” I said. “I guess my nerves are playing games with me.”

“Mine always play games with my mind,” Medgar said, scrambling off the bed. “My God! No one has ever pointed a gun at me before.”

Crossing the room to where his suitcase was standing, he picked it up, set it on a chair, and began throwing his stuff into it.

“What do you think you are doing?” I asked.

“What the hell does it look like I am doing?” Medgar said, without pausing. “I’m getting myself ready to leave. And, I suggest you start doing the same thing too. We may as well get out of here early in the morning tomorrow instead of waiting till elven o’clock. As a matter of fact, why can’t we leave tonight?” He threw his socks and pants into the case and then crossed the room to get his folder.

“So, you think I’m going to allow a cokehead scare me off a good story, right?”

Medgar put his shoes in the case.

“Don’t be a hero now,” he said, looking around for more belongings. “Anyway, I’m no longer interested in this case. You hear what the guy said: get out or perish. He’s already knocked off Lamar, Breonna, and Devon. You heard him, didn’t you? He mean business! Did you see his eyes? I almost had a heart attack. I don’t care if you chose to stay here and play the tough guy. I have to think of my wife and my dog. Who will take care of them if something happens to me? I always heed a warning, and, my good friend, was that a warning!”

I poured some cranberry juice into my glass and drank some of it.

“I thought you liked working with me, Medgar,” I said. “Remember you are the one who is working full time at the Baltimore Star. I am just an intern working under you, and you are supposed to be my direct supervisor. You forgot?”

Medgar shut the lid of the suitcase.

“What are you trying to say here?”

“Well, if you give up now and walk out on me, how is it gonna look?” I said. “How do you think Mr. Sessoms will feel about it? Between me and you, he will be very mad at you. After spending his money so far, if you quit without delivering, I can bet he will fire you. Anyway, remind me to give you a dollar when I see you begging for bread in the streets of Baltimore.”

Medgar paled.

“You don’t think Mr. Sessoms would want me killed, are you?”

“Come on, Medgar,” I said. “You know how these things work. You are worth what’s in the last good news you deliver. So long as Mr. Sessoms got a good story, he don’t give a damn. And, I am very sure he will blacklist you if you walk out now. You know him better than I do.”

Medgar sat on the bed.

“Can’t we just tell him there’s nothing to this LaToya story?”

“There’s a lot to it!” I said in a loud voice. “And I’m going after that crazy bastard. Didn’t you hear what he said about Devon? If we catch him, we will crack this LaToya case.”

“Take it easy, will you?” Medgar pleaded. “You must remember that we are not cops. We are just two law-abiding writers. Our job is to write for the Baltimore Star; not to catch killers.  So, be reasonable. Let’s leave him to the Baltimore City police. It is their job; and that’s what they are paid for. I am really concerned and I don’t give a damn who knows it. Besides, I don’t have a life insurance policy. I’ve got to think about Anna.”

“Anna would be better off if you died,” I said jokingly. “Mr. Sessoms would have to give her a pension.”

Medgar licked his lips.

“Now, let’s consider this option,” I said. “How about if I  go back to the office right now and start a new story. Believe me, I’ve got plenty of work to catch up with. The crazy guy don’t have to shoot both of us. Do he?”

“You need to pull yourself together,  Medgar,” I said. “No one’d going to shoot us. The Baltimore City police will look after us until they catch that crazy guy.  And we will bust this LaToya  case when he’s caught.”

Medgar tried to sneer.

“Stop kidding yourself, Emeka,” he said. “You don’t think that crazy guy is behind any of this, do you? He is just carrying orders, and he said so. If the Baltimore City police do manage to catch him, we will still be in danger because there will be a flock of others to come after us.”

I reached for the telephone book, turned up Captain Donald’s home number and put a call through.

Captain Donald’s growling voice came over the line.

“This is Emeka,” I said. “Medgar and I just had a visitor with a gun…”

“Medgar?” he interrupted. “Who’s Medgar?”

“Medgar Weaver is my work partner in this LaToya’s case, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” he said. “I remember now. Please go on.”

“Well, our visitor had a gun and he was full of threats. He admitted killing Devon Weaver and he gave us until eleven o’clock tomorrow morning to get out of West Baltimore or else. He said there weren’t enough cops in the entire Baltimore City to keep him from putting a bullet into us.”

“Did he now?” Captain Donald growled. “Stay right where you are. I’ll send my guys over there pronto,” and he hung up.

“Tell you the truth, Captain Donald is the kind of police captain I like,” I said, replacing the receiver. “No stupid questions, no argument, but lots of action. Save your worries,  Medgar, for protection is on its way.”

Medgar finished his drink.

“I still don’t like it, Emeka,” he said. “I think we should clear out.”

“You surprise me!” I said. “Can’t you see we’re making good progress? We’ve put the fear of God into someone. That means we must be on the right track – we are getting places.”

“What good will that do to us if we are dead,” Medgar said, pouring more cranberry juice into his glass. “Now, Emeka, we…”

While he was still trying convince me to leave  West Baltimore when the telephone bell rang and Stephen told me there were two police officers in the lobby waiting to see me.

“Please tell them to come right up,” I said. And I turned from the telephone to Medgar and said, “The law have arrived, so we are safe now.”

Medgar gave a wild laugh.

“Safe?” he said. “You must be very naïve. What made you think any Baltimore City police can take a bullet for you?”

 

 

 

 

END OF EPISODE 9

P.S. Stay tuned for Episode 10, which  will be published here next Sunday.