Color of Justice (9 page)

“Dear, don't say that,” said Virginia. She placed a hand on her husband's arm as if on cue, and again Danny had the feeling that it was planned that way. “We had a terrible series of confrontations,” said Virginia. “They escalated into a shoving match at a party a month ago. You would have found out about this sooner or later.”

Now Danny was impressed. Virginia was giving up incriminating information and making it look as if it had come from a sense of honesty by second-guessing her husband. Danny noticed that Oscar did not seem upset that she had just about called him a liar.

“And were any threats made?” asked Erik.

“No,” said Virginia.

Erik had been looking at Oscar when he asked the question, but the answer had come from Virginia.

Now Danny's pulse quickened just a little. There was definitely something going with these two. First Oscar was doing all the talking, but after the alibi was mentioned, Virginia was taking the lead.
They were hiding something. He decided to try to shake loose a clue by shocking them.

“When New Nubia was taken public, were there questions about Mr. Stallworth's past?” asked Danny.

The Stallworths both expressed anger at this. Oscar's eyes expressed shock and his nostrils flared. Virginia was about to say something when Oscar cut her off with a look.

“Ancient history, Detective,” said Oscar. “All of it is a matter of public record.”

“You were suspended as a lawyer and did some jail time,” said Danny.

“Yes, and it's all a matter of public record,” said Oscar. “I was a kid back then.”

“You were forty or so,” said Erik. “That's not a kid.”

Oscar Stallworth had been arrested along with several organized crime figures for running a fraud racket. They had gotten bogus companies to get public contracts for supplying goods and services to county hospitals. Money was funneled off, and the goods and services either were way below what was promised, or nonexistent. The county oversight officer who exposed the fraud had disappeared and was never found. He was presumed dead.

“You were hooked up with Leonardo Castellana. A man was killed,” said Danny.

“Leo and I were in business, and no death was never proven,” said Oscar quickly.

“No body was ever found,” said Erik.

“Look,” said Oscar. He was clearly getting angrier. “What I did was wrong, but we didn't kill anyone. I did some time, but I eventually got my law license back. Took me years to do it, too. I'm a legitimate businessman now, and I don't need the past coming back on me.”

“But don't you still hang out with Mr. Castellana?” asked Danny, who noticed that Oscar had referred to Castellana as “Leo.”

“Of course not,” said Virginia. “Oscar is a lawyer. He knows that wouldn't be—” She stopped when she saw the look on her husband's face. Oscar's expression had shifted from anger to fear.

“I'm afraid this interview is over,” said Oscar.

“You took the fraud rap for him, and he stayed out of jail,” Danny said. “Where I come from, that means he owed you a favor.”

“A big favor,” added Erik.

“This is very compelling, Detective,” said Virginia. “But you have no proof of what you are so obviously accusing us of.”

“No murder is perfect,” said Danny. “Mistakes are always made.”

“And why would I have killed the Bakers?” said Oscar. “I needed them alive so I could sue their asses.”

“New Nubia was going to file bankruptcy,” said Erik. “You wouldn't have gotten a dime.”

“But with them dead,” said Danny, “the Bakers' assets, including the insurance on their lives, is available if you can get to it. One well-placed law
suit would get some of your money back. Am I right?”

Oscar's head started to turn to look at Virginia, but he stopped himself. His eyes burned as he glared at Danny, who did not break the gaze.

“You have it all figured out, I see,” said Oscar. “The only problem is, it's all bullshit speculation.”

“That's how all cases start,” said Erik. “It would be better for everyone concerned if you came clean.”

“Came clean?” said Virginia. “There's nothing to come clean about.”

“I think it's time for you to leave,” said Oscar.

“We may be back to talk more,” said Danny.

“Do it through proper channels next time,” Oscar snapped.

“We have friends in the department,” added Virginia. “We'll be talking to them about you.”

Danny didn't answer. He and Erik left the room, saying the briefest of good-byes.

“So, what did you think of her?” asked Erik.

“She's a stone-cold player,” said Danny. “A manipulator, and I wasn't buying that shocked shit when she found out she was under suspicion.”

“Not Ms. Stallworth,” said Erik. “That good-looking sister who was all over you.”

Danny blushed at this statement ever so slightly, but that feeling was short-lived. “What can I say? The woman has good taste,” said Danny.

“I'm sure she was using you to get to me,” said Erik.

“Well, I was glued on that big-ass wedding ring on her finger. Did you see it?”

“No, my eyes were filled with legs,” said Erik. “Man, sometimes I wish I wasn't married.”

Danny thought about Vinny and their growing problems at home. He couldn't stop himself from wondering where she was and what she would do if some man hit on her.

“Let's get out of here,” said Danny.

They walked out of the party and headed to the next interview. Erik was thinking about the Stallworths' connections to people who could have done violence to the Bakers. Danny had this on his mind, too, but he also kept seeing the photo from the forties that Virginia had so clumsily tried to divert his attention from. And strangely he thought about the Stallworths' daughter Gwen, who was so much darker than the rest of her family.

Hamilton Grace was not a hard man to find. Danny and Erik had placed a call to him after getting his private number from the mayor's office. He invited them to his home, which was in Grosse Pointe, not far from the Longs.

Grace had a lot of money, and he wasn't trying to hide it. His house was more like two of the Longs' mansion. It was a massive structure, with manicured lawns and shrubbery, marble sculptures, and fountains that looked as if they'd been lifted from an Italian villa. It was one of those houses you see in a magazine or on TV, a place that had a name.

Hamilton Grace had lost almost as much money as the Stallworths, more when you considered that he'd brought in other people on smaller deals. He was known to be an astute businessman, but New Nubia.com had embarrassed him.

Danny and Erik were silent as a young black woman in a dowdy suit led them to Hamilton, who
was on the phone by his pool. He looked to Danny to be very casual for a man involved in a murder investigation.

“…no, Mr. Speaker,” said Grace on the phone. “I can't take that position so close to the convention…. I know what they've done for us and we appreciate it but my mind is made up…. Yes, sir, I will.”

Hamilton hung up the phone, and Danny saw a look of anger on his face. It was soon replaced with the practiced look of a politician.

“Detectives,” he said. “I've been expecting you.”

“We're here about the Bakers,” said Danny.

“I know,” said Hamilton. “I was called by the mayor and told you'd be coming.”

Danny noticed that he said the last part with just a little more emphasis, as if he wanted them to know he was holding all the cards.

“How may I be of assistance?” asked Grace.

“We just need to know a few things about your involvement with New Nubia.com,” said Danny.

Grace thought a moment and Danny could see something cross his mind. His brow furrowed and he took on a somber tone. “Yes,” he said. “Well, I lost a lot of money on that deal, and I use the word deal very loosely. I don't know if the Bakers ever expected to make any money.”

“So, you were upset about the whole thing?” said Erik.

Grace straightened his back, a kind of offensive gesture that seemed to make him stand taller.

“I won't waste your time,” said Grace. “I didn't like the Bakers in the end. I'm sorry they were killed, but people like them usually get what's coming to them.”

“And what kind of people is that?” asked Danny.

“Niggers,” said Grace.

Danny and Erik were both a little shocked to hear that word coming out of Grace's mouth. He was a national black leader who himself had railed against the use of the word in the media, and now here he was slapping down two dead people with it.

“Wanna tell us what you mean by that?” asked Danny.

“I know it's surprising, but if you know anything about me, you know that I do not tolerate black people who deal in worthlessness, crime, drugs, or foolishness. The Bakers were educated, refined, sophisticated niggers.” He raised a finger like a lecturer does when he's making a significant point. “They started that company to make money and stole the confidence of all of us, playing not on our greed, but our nobility as black people. Did you know that a portion of the profits were supposed to go to college scholarships at black colleges in our names? That's the kind of thing they did to lure us in. And all the while they were living like kings. Private jets, new cars, big salaries. They even bought matching gold Rolexes on the company. Nigger shit.”

Grace's expression was filled with anger at the memory. Something about the case had triggered
his ire and he was not going to just let it slide away, not until he made his point.

“I've dedicated my life to uplifting our people,” said Grace. “Sometimes in a fight like that you can lose your perspective, let your guard down. I did. You know, in the old days, a black person who stole from his own people would have been taken out and whipped in public. It was how we used to keep principle.”

Danny wasn't getting too excited about Grace's outburst. He hadn't incriminated himself by anything he'd just said. He was too smart for that. It wasn't a crime to be pissed off.

“We're going to have to ask you where you were the night they died, sir,” said Danny.

“Here at my home asleep,” said Grace without missing a beat. “My wife was with me.”

A servant entered carrying a tray of iced tea. She was followed by a young, pretty black woman and Jordan, the preppy son. They were dressed in boating outfits. Jordan wore a captain's hat that made him look silly.

“Thank you, Moira,” said Grace to the servant. “Detectives, this is my wife, Kelly, and you remember Jordan.”

They all greeted each other and Danny noticed that Kelly was not much older than Jordan, who looked to be about twenty-five or so. Danny surmised that Kelly was wife number two.

“We're going to the club,” said Kelly. “We wanted to know if you'd come.”

“Can't,” said Grace. “I need to talk to these
men, then a news crew is coming. The convention is almost upon us, you know. I have to do PR.”

“May I stay and help?” said Jordan eagerly. “It will look good to have family around you.”

“No, you've done enough this week, Jordan,” Grace replied.

“It would be no problem, sir,” said Jordan. “I'll stand in the background.”

“No,” said Grace with more authority. “Go see if my son wants to go with you.”

Jordan almost recoiled from this statement, as if he'd been slapped in the face.

Danny realized what had just happened. Grace had referred to Jordan by his first name, but to the other sibling as “son.” The picture could not have been more clear.

“Of course,” said Kelly dutifully, trying to ease the moment.

Kelly and Jordan moved off toward the guest house. Danny noticed that Jordan was big, powerfully built, and walked in an ordered, almost military manner.

Hamilton turned back to Danny and Erik and offered iced tea, which they both refused. Hamilton took a glass and sat in a chair. Erik and Danny sat also.

“Anything else, Detectives?” asked Hamilton. “I do have that news crew.”

“I wondered why there's someone else running for president of your group, the NOAA,” said Danny.

“It's a free country,” said Grace. “Virginia has a
right to run if she wants. It's no big secret that she's challenging me for the presidency, and it's causing a bitter divide within the organization.”

“And the Bakers?” asked Erik. “Where did they stand?”

Grace took a sip of iced tea, but not before Danny saw his lip curl in an expression of disgust that quickly faded.

“They were with Virginia,” said Grace. “Although they pledged loyalty to me, they were working for her behind my back.” There was a tone of challenge in his voice, daring Danny to make the obvious connection.

“It seems like someone is trying to get rid of your enemies,” said Danny with the same note of challenge.

“It was politics, not life,” said Hamilton. “I know it's your job to come here and make your little incriminating remarks, Detective, so I won't be offended. But don't ever think that I'm not catching them.”

“You said the Bakers embarrassed you when the company failed,” said Danny, not responding to Grace's arrogance. “Why did you care so much?”

“My reputation is all I have, Detective,” said Grace. “And there is an election for president at the convention in Detroit this year.” He put down his drink. “I have been married twice, once to my son Logan's mother, Erica, and now to Kelly, whom you just met. I have an adopted son, Jordan, who is actually my biological son born out of wedlock to another woman named Carin Wilson. Jor
dan and Logan are the same age, hence the first divorce. When all this came out, I did the right thing and took Jordan in. I made some mistakes in the past and they cost me. People punish you for being human. Ask Bill Clinton. That's why I cared about being deceived.”

“Were the Bakers spreading stories of your past around?” asked Danny.

“I wouldn't know,” said Grace. “I try to stay above pettiness.”

“Wasn't there concern about the way you've handled the organization's finances?” asked Erik.

“I wouldn't call it concern,” said Grace with definite scorn. “We had a bad year. Some money was lost.”

“How much money?” asked Danny.

Hamilton set his drink down and his eyes narrowed a little. Erik had obviously gotten to a sore spot with this powerful man.

“The organization lost five million on a bad investment I recommended,” said Hamilton.

“So, when you add New Nubia to that,” said Danny, “didn't some people doubt your ability to lead the organization? I mean, the Bakers made you look like a man who's foolish with money.”

“I'd be careful in the way you phrase things with me, Detective,” said Hamilton.

“Like you said, we have to ask these questions,” said Danny. “We have people to answer to.”

“Yes, and I know them all,” said Hamilton. “They're good friends of mine.”

Danny and Erik both got the gist of this state
ment. Don't mess with me because your bosses know how powerful I am and I'll get your ass. Grace was obviously happy to see the Bakers dead. It helped him in many ways, the money, his reputation, and it was one less political enemy between him and reelection.

The servant came back looking worried. “Sir,” she broke in, “the news crew is here.”

“Okay, Moira,” said Grace. “Detectives, Moira here will show you out. If you don't mind, I need you to avoid the news crew.”

Grace stood up and extended his hand, signaling that the interview was over whether they liked it or not. Danny and Erik checked with each other. They had as much as they needed for now. He had given them a lot of words, but precious few clues as to how he could have engineered the death. And the thing that bothered Danny the most was Grace didn't seem upset about the interrogation. It was almost as if he'd been expecting it. Either he was the coolest customer on the planet or he was innocent.

Moira walked briskly around the back of the house with the detectives in tow. Danny was acutely aware of being sneaked out like some kind of mutated relation they kept in the basement.

There was a news van outside, but no sign of the crew, which had already been taken into the house by someone else.

“Good day, gentlemen,” said Moira. She turned quickly and walked off.

“He played us,” said Danny. “He talked a lot, but he didn't say a damned thing.”

“You know, that man has done a lot for our people,” said Erik. “You think he's a killer?”

“Somebody did it,” said Danny. “That means somebody ain't what they seem. I'm not taking him off my list. Not yet.”

Erik cut Danny a hard look They stared at each other for a moment. They didn't disagree a lot, but Erik had his limits on all things and he didn't care if Danny agreed or not. Danny could see that Erik admired Hamilton Grace.

A loud voice broke the silence and Danny and Erik turned toward the driveway and garage. They saw Kelly and Jordan standing next to a Range Rover with Logan, the hip-hop son.

“Fuck that,” said Logan.

“No need to swear,” said Jordan.

“Really, Logan,” said Kelly. “You don't have to go. Your father wants you to.”

“You just be sure to tell him that it was your choice,” said Jordan.

“Look, I got some shit to do,” said Logan. “Y'all can go do that white people shit by yo'self.” Logan walked away, got into a little BMW roadster, and pulled off.

Kelly and Jordan saw the detectives looking at them, and quickly got into their car.

“Interesting family,” said Erik, forgetting his anger at Danny.

“Looks like the real son don't like the rich lifestyle,” said Danny. “He's probably rollin' hard with some brothers from the hood.”

“I know the type,” said Erik. “Trying to prove something about being black.”

Erik's statement made Danny think about his last session with Dr. Gordon for a moment. Then his mind shifted back to the family. They were screwed up, but that much was obvious. What he wondered was how far Jordan would go to protect his father from those who would harm him. Conversely, he wondered what the other son would do to prove just how tough he was.

The Range Rover rolled by the detectives, and Danny could vaguely see Jordan's face obscured by the dark tinted glass.

 

The Holyland Survival of Ministry stood regally against the blue sky as Danny and Erik got out of their car. Danny remembered when the building was called St. Michael's Cathedral. It had been a Catholic church for fifty years until the city turned black. Then the church did, too. The archdiocese participated in the “white flight” of the sixties and seventies and sold the church, building a new one in the suburbs. Danny remembered going to the church, taking Communion, and hearing adults talk about the changes going on in the city. The memory was vivid. People stood in God's house talking about how men were ignoring his word.

“This place brings back the memories,” Danny said to Erik as they walked toward the big wooden doors of the church. “I used to go here when it was a Catholic church.”

“Please, don't tell me you were an altar boy,” said Erik. “I couldn't live with that image.”

“No,” said Danny. “My mother wanted me to, but I was more interested in baseball.”

On their way to Holyland, Danny and Erik had noticed there were many properties for sale in the neighborhood near the church. Pale blue and white signs dotted the landscape. Danny knew that many black churches liked to buy up land around them for commercial purposes. What he didn't know was why someone was selling these lots.