Alibi II Page 2

  He snatched the piece of paper that had the tag number written down on it out of his sister’s hands. He looked at the number, memorizing it.

  “I don’t know who you snatching from,” she said, rolling her eyes and paying him no mind.

  He read the tag number to himself once more. His memory tight, he crumpled the tiny piece of paper and threw it out the window. The tag number was sealed in his mind. There was no chance he would forget it. He looked over at his sister and rolled his eyes at her.

  Liddles picked up his oversized cell phone and began dialing a number.

  “Yo, Reese, your girl still work at the DMV?” asked Liddles as Karla-Jae listened to his one-sided conversation.

  “I need her to run this tag for me on the low,” Liddles said, repeating the tag number.

  “No problem, hip hip,” he responded before hanging up the phone. This is just how simple it is to get at a nigga, he thought to himself. Before the day was out, he would have an address, and before the night was out, he’d be right on Wink’s ass, with his trusty binoculars.

  Law and Order

  Tommy Delgado closed the door to the dark blue Chrysler Fifth Avenue sedan. He and Detective Merva Ross stood and watched the car fade away in the distance.

  “You think she’ll be all right?” Merva asked, digging her hands deep into her jacket pockets, the autumn air feeling brisk.

  Tommy stood still, thinking of his partner’s question. Will she? “I don’t know, Ross. But she’s been through a lot, that’s for damn sure.”

  “Yeah, she has,” agreed Merva as they crossed the street from City Hall and walked down Thirteenth Street. “You gave her a fresh start, though,” said Merva as she stopped and looked at Tommy face to face. “You didn’t have to fight for her. I wouldn’t have. But you did.”

  Tommy couldn’t help but to interrupt his partner. “Excuse me, Ross, you don’t fight for anybody,” joked Tommy, laughing at his partner, who always played by the book, showing no remorse and very little sympathy for criminals, despite their story, background, or reasons why.

  “Yeah, but you did, you fought for Daisy Mae Fothergill, and if it hadn’t been for you, she probably wouldn’t still be here, and she certainly wouldn’t have the opportunity that she has now to start her life all over again. Come on, very few people get a second chance at life. I admire that about you, Delgado, you’re all right with me,” said Ross, patting Tommy on his back as they walked down the street.

  “Yeah, you know, there are a lot of things about me you don’t know. I’m just a great guy, an all-around American hero. It’s what I do, I save lives,” said Tommy, thinking of all the people he really had saved.

  “Oh, boy, men just can’t take a compliment and say thank you. I should have never said a word.”

  “Want to grab a bite before heading back to the station?”

  “Always that, you gotta ask?” she joked back.

  “Snockey’s?” he asked, one brow arched.

  “Oh, boy, oysters and stewed tomatoes, now you’re talking.”

  Daisy Mae Fothergill had survived the unthinkable. She didn’t know how she had managed to get on the witness stand, speak clearly, and answer each and every question presented without breaking down for fear. But she had.

  She had seen the look in Nard’s eyes. He was devastated, completely, she thought to herself. What could I do? I had no choice. She reasoned with herself, all the while thinking of the murderer’s fate. He gets whatever happens to him. She again reasoned with herself. His face had looked like a confused question mark. He must have really thought I was going to say we were together. He really thought I would listen to Sticks. Why didn’t Sticks tell him? He looked at me like he wanted to kill me, Daisy thought to herself.

  It was true, Nard had no idea that Daisy wasn’t testifying on his behalf. How could he? He was nothing more than a stranger sitting in the courtroom. But if Nard’s looks could kill, she knew she’d be dead. Please don’t ever let him get out of jail, Daisy thought to herself. She had realized a long time ago how drastic and how serious the situation was when faced with the reality of living a life in police protective custody. The entire fiasco was unbelievable. How did I even let myself end up in this situation? Being removed, and built over, wasn’t what she had in mind. At least I got to keep the money from the bank. Daisy was ready for a “fresh start,” as Tommy Delgado called it. He had spent three days and three nights breaking her down, making her agree to testify, after capturing her in Tennessee and bringing her back to Philadelphia.

  “Look, what do you want from me?” he had said, taking the last possible pull from his Newport as he smoked the cigarette all the way to the filter before crushing it with his fingers in the ashtray. “I’m giving you a chance to get out of here and make something of your life.”

  “Who said I need you to give me a chance?”

  “Well, maybe I should just send you back out there on the streets and let the wolves that are looking for you tear you apart!” he yelled, frustrated with repeating himself. The way he saw it, testifying was the only chance she had. What the hell is wrong with this girl? They’ll fucking kill her. Is she that stupid that she can’t see I’m trying to save her life?

  “Listen, Daisy,” said Tommy, as he tried another approach. He took a seat next to her, running his fingers through his hair. He looked at her, then pulled out his pack of cigarettes, lighting another. “These guys you’ve let yourself get caught up with are very dangerous. Let me tell you, kid, it started with three dead guys sprawled out in an apartment. Then, a young woman and her nine-year-old son were found dead in the same building, believed to be possible witnesses. I got a dead owner of the nightclub where you worked, Daisy, killed for what? Then your landlord is beaten to death. All because of you and this fucking alibi bullshit, and you’re gonna be next,” he said, drawing on his cigarette.

  “How do you know I’ll be next?” she retorted, as if he didn’t know what he was talking about.

  “Why do I even do this shit?” he said, looking at her, before he got up, walked away, and slammed the door behind him.

  It would take another pack of cigarettes, two beers, and the help of his girlfriend, FBI Agent Vivian Lang. Of course, Viv would cosign Tommy in a heartbeat. And for Daisy all it actually took was a little foul play to get her to cooperate. Tommy didn’t care what he had to do to get her statement and to get her to confess the truth. Besides, it was for Daisy’s own good in the end.

  “You’re gonna fucking testify. Shut up, I tell you what to do. You hear me? You want even more problems, see, I know what you’re thinking. I found out about the bank, kiddo. Not good, and guess what, if you don’t cooperate, the bank is going to want restitution on that fifty thousand.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s your ass, Daisy. It’s that fat ass of yours you walk around shaking at the Honey Dipper, and the FBI is going to come for it,” he said, smiling, knowing he had her. Tommy was from the streets, he knew how to speak her language.

  “No they won’t; I already cooperated,” she snapped.

  “Shut up, you think you know so much, Daisy Mae, what kind of name is Daisy Mae anyway? The fucking FBI is here, Daisy, and guess what, kiddo, you’re going to jail, and not only are you going to prison, you won’t have that money you’re holding on to. And I know what you’re thinking, you’re thinking that you got, what, close to fifty thousand dollars and you can keep yourself safe.” He smiled, having her all figured out.

  “That’s bullshit, that’s my money.”

  “Not if I say so. I’m the law, I am the law! And you are going to cooperate with the state now and sign that affidavit or so help me God, I’m going downstairs and I’m going to let Agent Lang hang you. Don’t believe me? Look here out the window,” said Tommy, pointing to his little covert operation that he orchestrated along with his girlfriend, Vivian.

  “You cooperate, not only will you get to keep your money, girlie, but you’ll have the state to pr
otect you from these assholes,” said Tommy, hoping that she’d hurry up and sign the affidavit so he could go home, a job well done.

  “I’m scared,” said Daisy as she began to break down and cry at her reality, her life seemingly crashing.

  “Don’t be. It’s gonna be all right. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise, Daisy, when I’m done you’re gonna have a good life, trust me, a great, wonderful life, you hear me, kiddo?” he asked.

  Little did she know that he would turn out to be one hundred on that. Daisy got off the stand and was escorted into the back of a room outside the courthouse doors where her cousin, Kimmie Sue, and her friend Billy Bob were waiting to say good-bye. It was decreed that she not have any contact with friends or family for her own protection. So she had no choice but to leave them behind, at least for now.

  Finally, it was time to say good-bye to Tommy and his partner, Merva. Daisy didn’t really care for her and it was apparent that Merva didn’t care for her, either. But Tommy was Daisy’s knight in shining armor. He was the one who, for some strange reason, did care. He wanted Daisy to make it. He wanted her to be all right. She hugged them both, but Tommy a little tighter.

  “Call me when you get to Arizona and get settled. Don’t worry, you have a security detail. You’re better than safe and nothings gonna happen to you. All right?”

  Daisy shook her head and kissed Tommy’s cheek good-bye. Tommy and Merva watched her get into the vehicle before being driven away.

  Daisy wanted to turn around, but didn’t. There was no more looking back for her. The only thing she wanted to do was look forward.

  Beverly Guess walked down Thirteenth Street, crossing the circle, making her way to the subway where she could catch the Broad Street line that would take her to North Philly, her stop Susquehanna and Dauphin. She emerged from the underground staircase and crossed the street to the bus stop. The number 39 would take her up to Twenty-third Street from Broad. She looked around at the busy street corner. Young mothers were walking by pushing their babies in strollers, Georgie Woods was outside, gathered around him a crowd of older men, laughing, joking, and waiting for their line in Don’s Doo Barbershop. Beverly made it a point to stop and pay her respects to Mr. Woods, as did every single living, breathing soul that had the pleasure of his presence. Sitting on stoop after stoop were the older folks, sharing stories, laughter, and here and there a bottle of Mad Dog 20/20. A young hustler from the other side of the street approached her, flashing a two-by-three manila envelope filled with marijuana, folded in half and sealed.

  “I got that gold, sis. Shit is crazy, I know you been looking for it.”

  “No, I haven’t,” she said to the young kid. How do you know what I’m looking for?

  “No problem, I got that, though,” he said, pushing the tiny manila envelope back into his jacket pocket.

  Daisy kept making her way down the busy street. She thought of everything that had happened in the courthouse today. Daisy Mae Fothergill, when she told the jury that Nard was not with her on the night in question, had been as emotionless as a statue. Beverly never made eye contact with the girl. And the girl never looked in her direction. She just seemed to sit still, staring off into the distance looking at thin air as she offered her testimony to the prosecutor and the jury.

  He ain’t coming home, he ain’t getting off. What was he thinking in the first place to get himself in all this trouble? It was all Beverly could think of, her son. The entire journey home was spent replaying everything that had transpired in that courtroom, as if there were a VCR in her brain. She couldn’t believe that her baby boy had been charged with murder, and to think that he was actually capable of it was something she couldn’t imagine.

  In a way, Beverly blamed herself. She kept telling herself that maybe had she done this different or done that different none of this would have happened. She looked down Susquehanna Avenue. I might as well walk myself on home. The neighborhood was beginning to change. The movement of black power and fighting for power had slowly diminished in the seventies, and the eighties had brought with it a new era, and by the mid-eighties there was a new drug, called crack. Everyone agreed it was one of the most powerful drugs to hit the street. The righteous warned that it would wipe out the black man. No one paid the righteous any mind, but the righteous were right.

  “It ain’t nothing but cooked-up cocaine,” one guy argued.

  “Man, it’s cooked up all right, with everything cooked in it from rat poison to ammonia. That ain’t no real cocaine they selling in those vials, that shit’ll kill you. Didn’t you hear about them people bought some of that crack and was falling out and needing to be resuscitated?” responded another. Beverly had heard a hundred and one stories about this new powerful drug. However, she didn’t really pay the stories any mind. She had heard of people purifying and freebasing cocaine. She even had a few friends that she knew every now and then indulged, but she figured whatever people were doing in the privacy of their own homes was their business. How in the world would it ever affect her and her life when she didn’t do drugs?

  The bus went by her just as she reached the corner of her block. I can walk myself faster than you can carry me, Mr. Bus Man. The smell of pork fried rice and fried chicken was coming from Wu’s Chinese and American Cuisine and the stench in the air hit her nose as she turned the corner. Beverly looked at several young black men loitering outside Wu’s takeout spot playing craps against the wall as they stayed on the lookout for the police. They had already been warned one hundred and ninety-nine times about shooting dice, gambling, and loitering on the corner.

  “How’s Nard, Ms. Beverly?” asked Chuck, one of the youngsters shooting dice on the corner.

  “He’s making it,” she said with a smile, walking by as the boys continued shooting craps.

  “Hey, Mr. Clarence,” she said as she walked by the Wilsons’ porch. Mr. Clarence was walking up the steps to his front door.

  “Well, hello, Beverly, how’s Ray coming along? I heard his foot was acting up. Ms. Doris was telling us he had to go to the hospital last Sunday at church.”

  “Yeah, it was his gout flaring up again, but he’s getting around pretty good now. I’ma tell him you asked for him,” said Beverly.

  “Yeah, you do that, tell him I said I’m still waiting to settle the score on that checkers match,” said Mr. Clarence, smiling, as he closed his front door.

  Beverly made it a few doors down, picked up some loose-leaf trash that was lying on the sidewalk, and then evened out two potted planters at the foot of the steps leading to her porch.

  “What’s going on, Beverly?” a familiar voice asked. She turned to see who was calling her name.

  “Rev? What you doing on my block?” asked Beverly, extending her arms to hug an old friend.

  “Well, you know, a brother gots to do what a brother gots to do,” he said, looking around as if he were waiting for someone.

  “Yeah, but you still ain’t answer my question, Rev. What brings you on this side of town?” questioned Beverly, looking around trying to figure out what he was looking for.

  “Well, it’s like this…”

  “That’s right, let her know who you here for,” ordered a voice from behind him.

  “Damn, woman, scared me half to death,” jumped Rev as he turned around.

  “Oh, hi, Maeleen,” said Beverly, looking at the thirty-something-year-old standing before her. I don’t know who she thinks she is, but Lord please tell me Rev ain’t messing around with her.

  “Don’t hi Maeleen me! It ain’t none of your business what he’s doing over here. He don’t answer to you. He answers to me,” said an angry Maeleen, shaking her finger in Beverly’s face.

  “I know you better get your finger out my face before I…”

  “Before what? Be careful what you wish for, Beverly,” said Maeleen, ready to go toe to toe about her man.

  “You know what?” asked Beverly, confused, and trying to figure out what was going on. S
he had this half man half fool standing in front of her, and an angry black woman wanting something to fight about.

  “What?” asked Maeleen, ready to jump all over Beverly’s ass if she said something slick out her mouth.

  “You ain’t even worth it. Yo, Rev, you better get her,” said Beverly, ready to jump Maeleen right back.

  “Come on, baby, come on, that’s my peoples right there, come on. You can’t be coming outside acting all crazy like you ain’t got no sense. I know this thing good, baby, but you gots to act right. Come on, let’s go calm down,” said Rev, attempting to quell a cat fight before it started.

  “You better get her and take her on somewhere,” yelled Beverly, as her Uncle Ray Ray came to the door.

  “Everything all right out here?” he asked, opening the door as the theme to The Rockford Files could be heard playing in the background.

  “No, it ain’t all right. That crazy woman from across the street,” said Beverly, pointing to Maeleen leading Rev across the street.

  “And don’t let me catch you messing with my man again,” hollered Maeleen for the entire block to hear.

  “She’s crazy, Uncle Ray Ray. All I was doing was standing outside talking to Donna’s brother, Rev.”

  “Listen, I been done told you about them peoples over there. Her and her God damn mammee. Both them crows be out there digging up dirt and shit off dead people’s graves. They’re witches, her momma is a damn voodoo doctor, and she can put some roots on you like ain’t nobody’s business. I’m telling you what I know. That crazy bat been done set our house on fire without lighting a match.”

  “Uncle, I swear, you should have seen Rev, he seen her coming and he couldn’t even open his mouth, couldn’t even talk, and that’s all Rev does is run his mouth. I can’t believe he didn’t say nothing. He just stood there and let her talk to me like that.”