Black and Blue Ch. 04

It surprised her when they entered an obviously prosperous area of the city, it surprised her even more when they stopped outside a house. This was one of the least impressive in the area, definitely not a showy McMansion, but the owner was clearly doing alright for his or her-self.

Claire looked around her through the vehicle's windows and tried to get a bead on where she was. This seemed to be a cul-de-sac and now she properly noticed the vehicle parked at the entrance. A large van. Around what was effectively a parking area there were three houses. The larger ones formed the sides and this smaller one was at the end. There was no sign of life until the door of the smaller house opened and a man emerged. Looking back Claire saw two other men emerge from the van.

It wasn't hard to place them. The two men from the van were clearly security. Big men with business-like no-nonsense demeanours. Ready to intervene if signalled.

The man coming from the house was big too, but different. He was a tall, powerful African-American with an aura of command. He checked out the Camry and then spoke into a device on his wrist. Claire knew that in that instant he had recognised the Officers and called off his men.

Any good Police Officer, or even ex-Officer, knew the value of procedure and instinct. Claire was immediately aware that this man knew his job. She had to assume that he was armed but she'd seen no sign of a weapon.

The man gave a confident smile, "Officers." Claire had used the same word a short time ago but in a very different way. This man wasn't worried by their presence, he had been expecting it. He was supremely confident that they would pose him no problem.

The white male Officer, Tod, gestured to the van. "Any issues Shaka?"

The Black man laughed - as if the idea was ridiculous. "A certain person showed one of our people some disrespect and he got sent a message. Almost certainly he's taken the point and is leaving the Tri-State Area as fast as he can. However, just to make sure..." Now it was his turn, by the slightest of nods of his head, to indicate the van. "Besides it doesn't hurt to shake off the cobwebs now and then. Been a long time since we had any real problems and it's easy to get fat and sleepy."

Claire couldn't really remember the last time she'd seen a man who looked less fat and sleepy. Shaka didn't carry too many surplus pounds and his big powerful frame was the real thing. Built on hard work rather than supplements and gym-hours. In one thing he every much resembled Julius. He had the same easy confidence, the same natural sense of authority, of command.

The blonde female Police Officer came round and unfastened Claire's door. The Officer indicated to her to get out. Claire did so and immediately felt, rather than saw, Shaka's attention turn on to her.

"This our visitor?" His eyes didn't leave her as the Officers confirmed the obvious. Finally he nodded. "You kept us hanging a while but the wait was surely worth it. You're Claire thass right? Well Cat here," his eyes flicked toward the blonde Police woman, "will show you the way."

It was a dismissal but as she allowed Cat to lead her forward she could feel Shaka's eyes on her body. Maybe Tod's eyes too - but his didn't seem to matter.

The house was nothing spectacular. A prosperous suburban dwelling, tastefully decorated, suitably furnished and well maintained. Not generally the sort of place that occasionally required an armed guard. She didn't feel at risk but she did feel extremely curious as she followed Cat through a small hall and its adjoining room before they stopped at an open door. Cat turned to her at that point and indicted that Claire should take the lead.

She wasn't sure what she expected but it certainly wasn't what she found there. First she was greeted by a dog and its excited snuffling and panting as it ran around her while she tried to enter the room.

"Don't mind him - he's just checking you out," said an amused voice that mixed calm and authority. "C'mon back here dog."

The dog gave a slightly frustrated last yelp in her direction and then went back to sit at the feet of his master. He dropped a hand to greet the dog and began to scratch under its chin with the long fingers of one hand. The dog thumped its tail on the floor and gazed up at its master with an expression of pure worship.

"Next time bring a treat for him and you'll be friends for life."

Claire was surprised by the new voice and turned to see a blonde woman smiling at her. She was perhaps in her early forties, attractive and trim.

Which was all very well but Claire, curious or not, was getting tired of all the mystery. Being brought to places she didn't know to meet people she didn't know. What was this all about and did they think she was some kind of a doormat? It was time to give a little back.

"Do you mean him or the dog?" She was pleased to keep the quaver out of her voice.

The man really surprised her then. He opened his mouth and let out a burst of laughter. "I like that - I'm thinking we'll get along real well Ms Doyle. Come on over and take a seat."

Clare was aware of Cat moving over to join the other blonde woman. She herself took the few steps necessary to cross the room and take the chair indicated. It put her a desk's width away from the man and allowed her to examine him carefully.

He was an African-American. At first she had thought him about sixty but closer up she was aware that he was rather older. His well-cut hair was dark but his neatly trimmed moustache and beard showed grey against his very dark skin. He was well-dressed, a red patterned silk tie showing up boldly against his white button-down shirt. A suit jacket was hung up behind him. She instinctively knew that he wasn't a man who dressed to impress or one who used his clothes to signal his social position. This was just the way that this man liked to be, rather than the way he needed to present himself.

She'd checked him out in about a second but she knew he'd been well aware of what she was doing. He smiled and his intelligent brown eyes were framed with wrinkles.

"So - do you prefer me to call you Ms Doyle or Claire?"

"Claire is fine," she responded.

He smiled again. "I'm doing better than Floyd Abernethy then. Dee baby you're gonna have to be sure to let old Floyd know that."

"You bet I am."

Claire heard the pleasure in the blonde woman Dee's voice.

Which was the moment when Claire knew who she was talking to.

"So what am I here for Mr Taylor?," she asked.

He gave her a little nod of appreciation. "Smart and beautiful. As you may have noticed from Dee and Cat I am particularly partial to that little combination. But anyway you're wanting to get down to business. So what you got planned?"

"I'm sorry," said Claire. First, what was it to do with him? Second, what answer did she have?

"Myself and Mr Julius Moore have never worked together but we have some shared interests if rather different methods. I'll give him his due the Closer is certainly effective but he tends to be rather one-track. Once he reaches a certain point he's looking for a new..."

"Project." Claire competed the thought. She had understood that from the start even if she had ducked some of its implications.

Mr Taylor slowly nodded, a look of compassion on his face. "So it's an end for him but very much a new beginning for you. Of course he wouldn't entirely leave you hanging. Floyd tells me he has a certain continuing interest. There are men, some Black but many more white, who particularly value the, er, company of a beautiful white woman who is guaranteed and certified Black Bred." His kind brown eyes held hers. "I understand he is very generous as these things go. His motives are not financial and he knows his mommas need money to raise his babies." Finally his eyes released hers and he glanced down at his notes. "Floyd tells me his previous girl, Jean Butler, is proving very popular. Building herself a nice little money-roll. So I'm not hiding the fact that you don't need me. You can go that route and no issues from us."

Again Claire knew how far she had come. Mr Taylor's last speech would have amazed and horrified her so few months ago. However, in truth hadn't she been coming to realise and accept most of it before she had ever been brought to this house. Not that she was quite sure she understood it all. Quite apart from this man's role there was one other player that she couldn't quite place on the chess board.

"You trust Floyd Abernethy? I know he's very tight with Julius."

Mr Taylor gave his mellow little laugh and the wrinkles again showed beside his eyes. "I've known Floyd since he was a young tear-away. Floyd is one of those men I mentioned. He's an associate of the Closer but largely by ways of being a regular customer. Loves him a white girl whose belly is showing with a Black man's baby. Got a white girl for his wife and three kids with her. Then she called time on that but he's not in the market for baby mommas. His wife wouldn't approve and he wouldn't want to hurt her. This way he gets what he wants and she is real happy not to have to provide it." The amusement was in those deep brown eyes of his again and he shrugged his shoulders.

"She just lets him..."

Now the laughter came from another direction, from the two women. "Claire honey," said Dee, "you don't think she waits at home pining for him do you. What's best about our little lifestyle is that everyone gets what they need. Talking of which..." she picked up a folder and passed it across to Mr Taylor.

He opened it and tapped the top page. "I've read through this Claire - your file from Milvain County PD. Most impressive."

This time Claire couldn't keep the surprise off her face. How the hell had he got that?

Mr Taylor noted her reaction and just smiled his little smile.

Claire again heard Dee's mellifluous voice. "This is Mr Taylor honey. You'll learn that when he wants something he generally gets it and that he knows people most everywhere."

Well that raised some questions but did they really matter? Milvain County felt a long way in Claire's past.

He tapped the file again. "Target is a fine place and no doubt a good place for folk to work but it ain't the place the person in this file should be working. My city has real needs and real problems requiring of solutions. We need our people with skills using those skills where they can make their best contribution. What are you thinking Cat?"

Cat had been silent up to now, just watching events unfold. Totally unphased by the conversation about the Closer and his activities. She had clearly known about all of that long ago. For a moment Claire wondered how directly she had acquired that knowledge. But then Cat was speaking.

"I'm thinking that Claire here belongs in the service and that she could be a natural fit in our detail. Apart from anything else you know that Tasha is moving on and I'm going to be a partner short myself."

"That's what I had been thinking," said Mr Taylor, "glad we are in tune here. So Claire what's it to be. You want to go with Julius, you want to stick with Target or you want me to put in a call to the Chief of Metro PD."

Well, say what you liked about Claire Doyle's daddy but one thing was for sure. He didn't raise no fools.

***

There had been some obvious problems with the plan to Claire's way of thinking. Not least was the fact that she was pregnant and who was going to put someone on the taxpayers' payroll who would soon be on maternity leave? Apparently the answer to that was that you should never underestimate Mr Taylor. She had an idea that was a fact she would only have reinforced as time passed.

The Capital was a big city and wherever you gathered a lot of people together you would always get crime. However, as big cities went it didn't do so bad. Certainly it was streets ahead of its neighbor just to the North. Her father had told her many a story about H-Town and by all accounts things had only got about a thousand times worse up there since his time.

Over in Milvain County every Officer had to do most about everything but here it was different. Specific squads with very detailed tasks. It had been a surprise on her first day - and to be honest a very real disappointment - to learn that Cat and herself worked on the Probation Squad.

"You want to be out chasing perps and trading bullets." Cat had shook her head. "Those days are over. You can't just think about yourself now."

Which was true. But maybe after her maternity leave...

"Meanwhile," Cat had continued, "the next best thing to crime detection is crime prevention. To keep our citizens and their property safe there's very little so effective as ensuring that one-time offenders become only-time offenders. You'll soon come to learn that this job has very real satisfactions of its own." Her blue eyes twinkled as she said the last words.

"Anyway there's no better way of learning this job than to do it. Let's have a look at today's files."

Cat stepped over to the squad-room main desk and returned with twelve folders. "These are all due to complete their probations on a first offence. How we handle them largely comes down to instinct but you'll soon get the idea." She spread out the folders and considered the attached pictures. The two women and three white men went into a separate pile. Of the remainder two folders carried attached post-it notes.

"Hmmn," said Cat through compressed lips, "that's why it pays to get here early. Eliza and Maddy have already taken their pick." She spread the remaining files on the table and examined their cover sheets.

She pushed three aside and then collected the remaining two. "These have potential. Let's get going..."

***

LaShawn Dyson turned out to be a real piece of work. He'd pled down to a conviction for petty theft and evading arrest. Frankly he should have been given a year or two to consider his options behind bars. It was honestly amazing that he had ever completed his probation without re-offending. So either he was genuinely trying to repent his past actions and had seen how lucky he had been with the DA or else he had dramatically improved his skills in not getting caught.

"What the fuck you motha-fuckas want?"

Well wasn't that lovely. Claire had an increasing idea of where the truth about LaShawn lay. Or maybe it was just because he was here with three of his homies. Young men could be remarkably stupid when they were putting on a show for their friends.

That was possible - LaShawn had probably always needed to put on a show. Mug shots didn't normally flatter people but LaShawn might have been an exception. In the flesh he wasn't a big man, strictly average and with a bland uninteresting face. For a young man he was starting to run to fat. Just the sort who needed to show off to make any sort of an impression at all.

"Is there anywhere we can talk in private Mr Dyson?" Cat had obviously seen plenty like LaShawn before.

The young man just puffed out his chest and waved an arm. "Ain't got no secrets - we can talk here."

"This is the final aspect of your probation Mr Dyson. Be a shame to trigger a violation after you have been such a good boy." Cat's voice had authority behind it and you could almost see LaShawn fold before the barely suppressed sniggers of his friends.

LaShawn led them around the corner and into an apartment. The smell of weed hung in the air - that and long overdue laundry,

Cat consulted her phone. "I see you have tested clean throughout your probation - no drugs, no alcohol. Also your end of probation medical came up clean." Her glance to Claire was so quick that LaShawn didn't see it. "So there's just the formality of your physical. It is often waived but you happen to be one of those selected."

"What the fuck - I thought the fucking medical was bitch-ass. Now this shit - what the fuck?" LaShawn seemed unlikely to win a Pullitzer any time soon.

"Sadly it is a necessary formality Mr Dyson. Perhaps you would prefer to strip before male officers?"

For a few seconds LaShawn Dyson embodied gay panic. He really was a piece of work. Then he pulled his top off over his head. A moment's more hesitation and he stepped out of his shorts. Seemed he fancied himself as a commando too.

"Thank you Mr Dyson," said Cat in an unimpressed tone. He didn't look any better without the clothes. The two officers moved professionally to take measurements of LaShawn's torso and waist, running a tape measure around his flexed biceps and then his thigh muscles.

Claire casually allowed her fingers to trail over the young man's chest as Cat measured his thigh. LaShawn had a pissed-off expression on his face. This was all clearly a waste of time to him. However, the examination had at least proved another reason why he was trying to play the big man. He had maybe three inches and despite all of their attention he was stubbornly limp.

Claire glanced at Cat and her more experienced colleague nodded in response.

"Put your clothes back on Mr Dyson. Thank you for your cooperation and you can go about your business. Hopefully we will not see you again."

LaShawn gave a little contemptuous grunt. Everyone there knew that he and the criminal justice system would no doubt be bumping heads again.

***

Later in the vehicle Cat had shrugged her shoulders as Claire drove. "Not a lot we can do about the frequent flyers. We can have days full of LaShawns. Little men trying to be the big man. The life or the law will keep catching up with them unless they smarten up but that's their choice. That's not what we are about. Pull in when you can - our files have our next client based over there."

The street-walk was cracked and weed-strewn. Beyond it was a line of nondescript and slightly shabby houses. They had seen better days but here and there were signs of people doing their best. There were the front yards that looked like a garbage tip or worse a breakers yard. However, there were more that were tidy, where residents had worked to keep things looking good.

In front of this building there was only scrubby grass, cut short, and a path of concrete slabs. Cat strode up to the door and touched the bell. They had clearly been observed because the door opened almost immediately. The man was in his early twenties, about six-foot and with a carefully-guarded facial non-expression.

"Officers - this about my tag?" he gave a gesture taking in his left leg. "Ain't gonna be missing it."

Cat nodded. "That's right Mr James. Just to confirm that you are Jason James?"

The young man gave a weary nod of his head. "I got to go downtown?"

Cat shook her head. "We can do it here if you have no objection."

"I've got nothing to hide. Even if I wanted it I been testing three times a week." Jason stood aside and allowed Cat and Claire to enter.

The inside was much like the outside. Sparsely and cheaply furnished but kept clean.

"You renting?" Cat and Claire were both still Police Officers. The questions and the instant visual inspection came very naturally to them.

"From my uncle - well anyway we call him uncle - same as I'm landscaping for."

Cat checked her sheet. "Six months on a first offence? You must have annoyed the Judge."

Jason gave a noncommittal shrug. "I was dumb. Should have pled out. Fact is he threw first - it's just that I threw better. He missed and I didn't. Hardly mattered with that Judge and Jury. They'd made their decision the minute they saw me and him. Like I say - should have pled out."

They'd read the report. A club after some drinks and an altercation between two young men - one Black and one White. The cause - no surprise, a girl. The result - one cracked jaw and one arrest. A claim of self defence hadn't flown.

"Capital's free board and lodging not to your liking I hear the food isn't so good." Cat's dry tone was perfectly judged.