Beneath The Surface (15 page)

“Yes,” Meka said, knowing that Leon had her.

“I met you, or I should say you were pointed out to me, in Miami, at a party for Skip that was given by Connie Joseph. You know Connie, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I know Connie.”
Triflin’ bitch.
“I remember the party, but I don’t remember you.”

“Not surprising. You were pretty fucked up that night. At the time, you were doin’ some work for Cerrone Merkerson.”

Meka sat back in her chair and her mind flashed back to those days. Leon had her all right, because in those days, Meka was making money. Cerrone Merkerson controlled a sizable chunk of the Miami drug market, and Meka was his cleaner. At first it was all about the money for Meka,
then
she got caught up in the lifestyle. Before too long, she was drinking more than she knew she should, and doing a few lines at the many wild parties Cerrone used to throw. But it was when Meka started smoking that things got out of control.

She began skimming to support her habit. When she had stolen so much money from Cerrone that she could no longer cover it, Meka began to realize that she had to get away and get some help for herself. But she also knew that she would need some money to go with. When she left, Meka took two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

“That was a long time ago, Mr. Copeland,” Meka said and shuffled the papers on her desk.

“Leon, Meka. Call me Leon.”

“So tell me,
Leon,
what I can do for you today?”

“I was interested in some of the same services that you provided for Mr. Merkerson.”

“I don’t think so. I don’t do that kind of work anymore.”

“Really?”

“Really. I left that life and those skills in Miami a long time ago.”

Leon stood up and reached for the briefcase he had with him. He placed it on Meka’s desk and opened it in front of her.

“How much money is that?” Meka asked, and remembered the fact that she was broke. She quickly rationalized that she could make this money quick, get out of the hole she was in, and get out.

“Half a million. Ten percent of it is yours.”

Meka looked Leon in the eyes. “Fifteen,” she said and closed the case.

“Deal.”

Carmen arrived at the Jacob
Javits Center
to moderate The Violence
Against
Women Conference. Some of the topics included: The Hidden Scares of Domestic Violence; Partnerships To Reduce Domestic Violence Homicides; Sexual Assault Forensic; Woman-to-Woman Violence; and The Impact of Violence On Women of Color, which focused on exploring the intensity, trends, and influences of violence against women of color like: How service providers and the criminal justice system are responding; and is enough being done? And if not, what things need to be considered or eventually changed in order to make a difference?
 

However, the murder of Tangela House made the session on How To Improve Your Investigation and Prosecution of Strangulation, which was presented by Dr. Elaine Weaver, Medical Director for the Sexual Assault Center at St. Matthew’s Hospital, got a great deal of attention and eventually, turned somewhat volatile.

Her presentation focused on providing background information and specific techniques, that are needed to effectively investigate and prosecute strangulation cases. The discussion covered the prevalence and lethality of strangulation, including the implications for both the medical and police response.

When the various types of strangulation were defined, some of the participants began raising questions about the responsibilities of the press, and the public’s right to know, which were directed at Carmen and the police officials, that were in attendance. They demanded information about the case and cases like it, and what was being done to catch the murderer.

Dan, Carmen’s producer, saw the interest in the story and immediately called Louis Carr, the station’s managing news editor, to pitch a series of segments on the subject. Louis thought it was a great idea and suggested that the segment should be hosted by Carmen. “You’re kidding,” Carmen said to Dan when he told her.

“Dead serious, Carmen. Maybe ratings have been up since you started reporting this story. I don’t know. But whatever the reason, we got the ball, so let’s run with it.”

“I’m glad that you see it that way,” Carmen said. “’Cause I was thinking about checking out the studio I was telling you about. Two women may be missing, and that was the last place anyone knew of them going.”

“I don’t know, Carmen. For one: neither one of them is the victim in this case; and two: it may not be safe for you,” Dan said.

“But they may be victims just the same.”

“I’ll be honest with, Carmen. Neither us, nor any other news outlet, have disclosed the fact that the victim was a known prostitute with drug arrests on her record. If they did, I wonder how interested or how much outrage, the viewing public would have if they knew.”

Carmen looked disappointedly at Dan. She always thought of Dan as an enlightened man. “The question is, or at least should be, does it matter who she was and what she did for money, or just that she was violently murdered?”

“You’re right. But I still don’t want you going alone,” Dan said.

That’s when Carmen saw Mike Black coming toward her, carrying a dozen roses. “Don’t worry, Dan. I think I’ll be safe,” she said as Dan walked away. “Well, hello, Mr. Black. This is a surprise. I thought you would have left for Nassau by now,” Carmen said.

Black handed the roses to Carmen. “First of all, Carmen, you were excellent today. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Carmen inhaled deeply to smell the roses. “They’re beautiful,” she said and looped her arm in his as they walked. “So tell me, what made you stay?”

“Do you really have to ask me that?”

“No. But tell me anyway, just in case I’m wrong.”

“I didn’t want to go. So I didn’t.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Carmen said and she kissed him on the cheek as they walked toward the exit. “I would have missed you and been on a plane to Nassau.”

“Anytime you want to come, I have a suite at Atlantis for you.”

“I’m sure your woman would just love that,” Carmen said, and Black began to evaluate his relationship with CeCe. Just when he was starting to think that it was a settled matter that CeCe was the one. It seemed only natural; especially since she and Michelle got along so well. His feelings for Carmen had definitely complicated matters for him.

“Yeah, I’m sure she would.”

“So, do you have any plans for the rest of the day?” Carmen asked.

“I wanna do whatever you’re doin’.”

“Then you won’t mind coming with me to pay a visit to Finch Studios?”

“Lead the way, and I will follow you anywhere, pretty lady.”

Carmen stopped walking and looked into Black’s eyes. “You should be careful what you say to me.”

Black and Carmen took a cab to Finch Studios. It was located in a warehouse in the garment district. When they arrived, Black took a seat and Carmen introduced herself to the receptionist. “My name is Carmen Taylor. I’m a reporter for channel four.”

The woman smiled. “I thought I recognized you. At first, I thought you
was
an actress lookin’ for work.”

“No, nothing like that,” Carmen said and laughed a little.

“Well, what can I do for you, honey?”

“I was hoping to talk to Peter Finch. Is he in?”

“He’s busy right now,” the woman paused. “They’re shootin’ a scene. But if you don’t mind waitin’, I’ll see if he’s got time to talk to you.”

The woman walked off and Black took the opportunity to tease Carmen about being mistaken for a porn star. “Only way that would happen is if you were my co-star,” Carmen said.

“That could be arranged,” Black said as Peter Finch came out of the back.

“Miss Taylor,” Finch said in a deep Australian accent. “I’m Peter Finch. Margaret here says you wanted to see me.”

“Yes, Mr. Finch,” Carmen said and shook his hand. “I’m following up on Tangela House.”

“Tish. What about her?” Finch said impatiently.

“She was murdered a few nights ago.”

“Wait a minute; Tish is dead?”

“Yes sir. I’m trying to get some background on her for my story, and I was told that she did some work for you sometimes.”

“She did a few scenes for me, but I really can’t tell you much more about her. But I’m in the middle of a shoot right now. Come on back; I’ll show you around and we’ll talk.”

“Sounds good. This is my associate, Mike Black,” Carmen said, and Black and Finch shook hands.

Finch led the way and showed Carmen and Black the editing room and then the production area, where the finished product was mass-produced for distribution. “How did Tish die?” Finch asked as they walked.

“She was strangled with her purse strap,” Black said.

“That’s fucked up.”

“When was the last time you saw her, Mr. Finch?” Carmen asked.

“A week—maybe two. Margaret can tell you exactly when,” Finch said as he passed by a door without opening it.

“What’s in there?” Carmen asked.

“We’re shootin’ a scene in there if you wanna have a look-see.”

“I don’t think that would be necessary.”

“No problem. I’ll be right back.” Finch opened the door and walked in.

Black extended his hand prompting Carmen to follow anyway. “After you.”

Carmen gave him the finger and followed Finch into the room. They walked past an array of cameras and lights, and at least a dozen people. There before them were two men: one black, one white; and a white woman having sex with them on a black leather couch.

“You ever watch a porno flick, Ms. Taylor?” Black whispered to Carmen.

“Yes,” she whispered back. “But I’ve never watched anybody doing it right in front of me, much less in a room full of people. What about you?”

“Yeah—I’ve seen other people have sex before. I’m surprised with you spending all those years in Europe, and with the European’s attitude about sex, that you haven’t been on a set like this.”

“True. I had plenty of opportunities, trust me. But I always managed to leave before the orgy got started,” Carmen said as Finch got finished talking to the cameramen, and they followed him out of the room.

Now that the tour was over, Finch led Carmen and Black back to the lobby. “Are there other aspects of filmmaking that you would still like to explore?”

“Not really, Carmen. My intention is to remain a screenwriter, director and editor. I have been making these films for ten years now. And to be honest, I will be quite content doing those three things for the rest of my life.”

“What initially attracted you to filmmaking, and how has that interest evolved during your career?” Carmen asked as they walked.

“You’re not going to believe this, but my interest in filmmaking was piqued by watching
The Making of Michael Jackson’s Thriller,
” Finch said and laughed a little. “I watched it over and over. It was the first thing that demystified the process.”