Carlos Santos gazed out of the big narrate window staring at the brilliant green lawn that ringed their plush Vanglory Hills home and thinking that, in many ways, he was living the culmination of a dream.
Carlos never got tired of looking at the grounds or walking them at night just as the sun set. He liked the lawn then, half cast in shadow, almost as much as he liked it in the morning. Almost. But morning was the best time. He loved to see the colors of nature burst forth with the sun. The trees and the shrubs virtually sprang to sudden life infused with the possibilities of a new day. Growing up Carlos had often dreamed, but never quite believed, that he would come to live in a place like this. Years of dwelling in the cramped dinginess of Tully’s apartment above Lee Street had fired his thirst for simple, untarnished space. He had thought of moving out to the country when Tully had died in 1980 but they had been snarled up with Noodles by then and Carlos could not bring himself to leave Milton. When Milt had finally pulled them out of Lee Street a year later Carlos had been delighted. He was getting his dream.
At least allotment of it, anyway. There had always been an achingly exquisite wife in the old visions, a raven-haired Mrs. Santos holding a picnic basket and striding, dancing, gay and barefoot beside him. Swinging the basket. In those dreams Carlos and his wife would talk about the shrubs. It was a world where the seasons, the water, and the brand names of fertilizers actually held meaning. It was not the world Carlos lived in now. He had the lawn but not the girl. He had the house but not the wife. Instead he had Milton, who could give a damn if the grass withered up and died tomorrow, or if the trees all fell down, unless of course they fell on the house and brought financial considerations into the represent. Milton didn’t care about the shrubs. He left them to Carlos who dutifully watched over the lawn and trimmed the hedges and grew the bright flowers in the garden beds beside the walkway, and tried his best not to recount Liz skipping barefoot on the incandescent green grass.
Swinging the basket.
Carlos tried not to imagine that, but he did not always succeed.
Behind him Milton Howard plopped down on the sofa and sneezed. Carlos turned to look at him. Milt was in a red silk bathrobe, a fancy one Liz had given him. His nose was very red and his eyes were glazed over with the effects of the strong decongestants. Prescriptions were not a problem when the local pharmacist owed you money on his building so Milt had been pretty well doped through his week-old battle with the flu. Carlos thought he looked a little better than he had for most of the previous seven days.
“How do you feel? ” Carlos asked, letting the curtain plunge back on the window and the view.
“Lousy,” said Milt, “but a minute better for all that. You? “
“Not a sign nor symptom. Maybe I’m immune.”
Milt snorted, at least as well as he could through his stuffy nose.
“You must be immune to everything. You never get sick. Not once I can remember. Me, I catch a cold if the wind blows. Why is that? “
Carlos chuckled.
“I don’t know, Marvelous. Maybe I been living right.”
“Ain’t neither one of us ever lived right,” said Milt testily, “and don’t call me that. Where’s the paper? “
“Grumpy, grumpy,” said Carlos. “You’re just like Tully was. When you get sick you bag mean. I laid it on the sofa right in your spot and you’re probably sitting on the damn thing.”
Milt frowned, discovering that this was indeed the case. The sections were out of order.
“Anything gone? ” he asked.
“Just sports and you don’t read that. I put the local section right on top. How’s that for efficiency? After dealing with you for a week I feel like I could open a second career as a nurse. You want coffee? “
Milt shook his head no. He started reading the first page, blazing through the story of a drive-by shooting on Pleasant Boulevard. Carlos said nothing but turned assist toward the window to let Milt read. He opened the curtain again, gazed out, and waited.
When he got to the bottom of page one Milton’s eyes froze, riveted on something. He spoke as he read.
“What the hell is this shit? ” Milton asked. He was reading an article headlined ‘Andrews Hires Unusual Assistant DA’.
Carlos walked to the sofa and stood behind Milton, his tall body towering over his friend making it easy to re-read the article. There was a shadowy and white picture of a lady in a nice suit accompanying the article. Carlos thought she looked younger than the article said she was, pleasant but plain. There were three paragraphs at the bottom of page one, then the legend jumped inside. Milton flipped as he read.
Andrews Hires New Assistant DA
Domestic Violence Top Priority
by Teddy Wellington
Lafayette District Attorney (DA) Dan Andrews announced yesterday that he had hired a new Assistant DA who will begin work immediately and whom Andrews said will sharpen focus on the emerging problem of domestic violence in the city.
Andrews named Tabitha Dawn Van Doren, 31, to the newly-created post of Assistant DA for Special Assignments. The first assignment, said Andrews, would primarily be family violence and spousal abuse.
“This is an issue,” said Andrews, “which our office hasn’t had the resources to combat fully on our fill. However, after hearing some of the speakers at the city council last year and after several unfortunate incidents that have been reported on in the press, I felt that a sure statement of our commitment to combat these dreadful social ills should be made.”
Andrews may have been referring to the highly publicized death of 23-year-old Marge Wallace who was killed last year by her husband, convicted murderer John Wallace. Andrews later successfully prosecuted Mr. Wallace for the crime. During the trial it was reported in the Lafayette Herald that Mrs. Wallace had repeatedly tried to allege city police and social services about her husband’s increasingly violent rages and beatings, but had gone unanswered due to what her relatives called bureaucratic indifference.
Mrs. Wallace’s family is currently suing the city government.
Ms. Doren is a native of Chicago, Illinois where she has been working as a junior lawyer in a prestigious firm. Although she has no genuine experience as a prosecutor, Van Doren claims a special understanding of the problem of domestic violence and its victims.
“I know what these women go through,” she said, “and I know how often the system ignores them. I think as law enforcement becomes more sensitive to these claims there are going to be more women who stand up and say they’ve had enough.”
Several local politicians had mixed views on Andrews’ surprising move. Andrews has been under fire from the mayor and the city council for several different issues, but yesterday Council Chairman Douglas Dennings expressed only “some concerns” about Andrews hiring a second assistant to go along with current Assistant DA Joe Ball Kinwood.
“I don’t mind the DA having two assistants,” Dennings, reached late Thursday at his home, said, “although I think he could have got someone with a bit more experience.”
Republican Party Chairman Lance Heglemann said that he felt Andrews was focusing on the wrong areas.
“It ain’t that domestic abuse ain’t a pains,” Heglemann said, “Don’t get me wrong. But a lot of us hoped Dan would put some teeth into the re-occurring charges of sleaze in Market Hall.”
The charges Heglemann referred to are mostly ones made by local Republicans, a minority on the city council, about their long-held belief that there is a city contract-rigging scandal festering in Market Hall. These charges have not been proven and were denied by Andrews during the election last fall.
Ironically, Andrews is Lafayette’s first Republican DA this century.
Police Chief Joe ‘Moss’ Brewback expressed interest in working with whatever proposals or cases Andrews’ new assistant suggested and indicated he felt domestic violence was indeed a growing problem. The directors of the local YWCA and the Women’s Advocacy Council also applauded the move.
Tabitha Van Doren is the daughter, along with one sister and two brothers, of the late famed attorney Donald Van Doren, who rose to prominence in the mid-seventies after a series of stirring victories as a criminal defense lawyer including the well-known ‘Baby John’ trial in Chicago. He later became a highly successful civil lawyer, specializing in consumer fraud…
Milton finished reading the article to its end. Carlos wandered around the sofa and sat down in the big easy chair by one of the bookshelves. Milton looked very thoughtful when he was done. He tossed the paper back down on the sofa. His head was turned down towards the carpet but he suddenly raised it to look at Carlos, who was regarding him with a somber expression.
“What does it mean? ” asked Carlos.
Milton gave a short, frustrated dispute.
“Be damned if I know. Maybe just what it says. Andrews got burned on that Wallace thing. You remember. He was lucky it happened in late November. If it’d been before the election he’d have lost.”
“If we’d have gotten off our asses and done something he’d have lost,” said Carlos. “There’s more. This lady stopped by Paradise Alley to see Liz Wednesday.”
“What the hell for? ” Milton looked surprised and concerned.
“She wants to meet with you. She asked Liz to set it up. Liz called me when they left and told me.”
“They? “
“Joe Ball brought her in. He loves to go down there whenever he gets an official excuse. He’s got a crush on Liz.”
“Him and half the world,” said Milton. “Why didn’t you tell me this on Wednesday? “
“Oh yeah, like you need something else to get you up and out of bed. It’s already a struggle to keep you away from the computer. If you don’t relax you’re never going to get well.”
“Okay, okay.” Milton flipped his hand in the ‘whatever’ gesture he former during the times Carlos admonished him to prefer better care of himself. It was a touchy subject between them.
“Well,” Milt said, “did they say what they wanted? “
“Not exactly. Joe Ball told Liz that this Van Doren chick wanted to perceive some of the research you did on domestic violence. You know, all those stats and records you dug up for the council, that stuff Dennings used to really stick it to Trot Bliston. But the plot he was talking and acting made Liz reflect the real reason was something else. Something that had nothing to do with domestic violence at all. What it was Liz had no idea but she said she thought Joe Ball was trying to be obvious. Like he was sending us a message or something. Liz didn’t think he was trying very hard to fool her.”
“Weird,” said Milton.
“Yeah, all kinds of weird,” Carlos agreed. “Liz said she was a tall lady. She came into Paradise in a business suit and I’ll bet that caused some double-takes. Liz said she seemed a microscopic cold but I wouldn’t read too much into that. Nobody ever knows how to deal with Liz the first time. Dennings called last night. Andrew took her around to meet everybody. The running theory is that Andrews owed her father big time. It’s impartial like Teddy said in the paper, she’s got no real experience. Andrews is from up that way and he knew her dad. We know he got into some inconvenience back there. Rumors say this lady’s famous father helped him out. Dennings said the folks ’round Market Hall are already calling her Daddy’s Little Princess.”
“Cute. So when are we meeting her? ”
“I told Liz we could do it Wednesday. I really think we should make it two weeks with all the catching up you’re gonna have to do when you get on your feet again. But I have to admit, I’m inspiring. Liz said Joe Ball was grinning so big he was about to bust at the seams. I contemplate something’s up.”
“Sounds like,” said Milton. “Anything else? “
Carlos gave Milt a very close look.
“Can’t tell from the picture, but Liz says he’s a redhead.”
Milton frowned.
“What the hell does that have to do with anything? “
“Oh come off it, Milt. She’s from out of nowhere. Never been a prosecutor or even worked in a DA’s office. I reflect this whole princess thing is a cover. I’ll bet Joe Ball planted the rumors himself. Liz said this girl was your type all the map. At the most you’ve dated six women in your life. Five were redheads. Everybody knows your type. Andrews and Joe Ball might as well have gotten a made-to-order woman from an escort service.”
“What the hell? Carlos, don’t you think you’re stretching this a bit much? I don’t believe the Lafayette DA is choosing his assistants based on my damned dating patterns.”
“Oh, I consider he is. I think this girl’s gonna cozy up to you big time. Andrews knows, Milt. Not all of it, but a lot. He wants to start indictments for political corruption. He wants to go after Dinky Earl. Only blueprint to get that done is with somebody inside. To testify at the trials, somebody they can give immunity. Andrews thinks you’re as inside as it gets. This girl’s job will be to get you. Domestic violence is just a cover story. Ticket my words Milt, Andrews has been fooling Dennings, the mayor, and everybody else. He’s even got his own party thinking he’s a lightweight. But he’s objective been waiting for the large prize. Meanwhile he’s had Joe Ball pulling overtime for years. Joe Ball clear as hell knows a thing or two. If he’s told Andrews the score, then Andrews has one thing in mind. He wants to take Little Earl to court.”
Milton frowned. He seemed about to disagree but instead he closed his mouth and tightened his lips. After twenty seconds he spoke.
“It’s possible. Happy? The thing that makes it possible is Joe Ball. He’s Andrews’ wild-card. Joe Ball’s from the old days. He was dirty then like everybody else over in Market Hall. He was Jerry’s partner. He must have heard a lot about Little Earl.”
“What would happen if Andrews actually indicted Cramped Earl? ” Carlos asked. It was an incredible understanding to him.
“I don’t know. Andrews would come off looking like a fool, I’m sure. But the focus would be on the good ole boys network and that’s trouble for us. I just can’t believe Andrews really hired this girl to seduce me. It sounds crazy. On the other hand, it’s got that kind of wacko nuance that Joe Ball loves. I could actually contemplate him thinking up something that outrageous. If this crazy theory is correct…” he pointed at Carlos, “…if, I say. If it is apt, do you think Andrews and Joe Ball would have told her? “
Carlos nodded, but in manner that indicated confusion not affirmation. It was a point he had not considered.
“Yeah, I see what you mean,” he said slowly. “Can’t really retort that until we know something about the girl. Is she the kind that would take a job cause of her looks and not her talent? Or is Andrews just using her without letting her in on the scoop. Maybe…”
A jarring wreck startled Carlos out of the thought. It came from the kitchen and sounded like a glass or a coffee mug shattering on the floor. It was followed by a man’s voice uttering a curse.
“Dammit! Dammit to shit!”
Milt shot Carlos a distressed glimpse but Carlos just shook his head slowly, frowning.
“It’s all right,” Carlos said quietly. “Cousin Jimmy is here.”
There was a slight note of derision in Carlos’ clear, deep voice. Milt lowered his own to a hiss.
“Here? When? “
“Late last night, I guess. He was asleep on the couch when I woke up.”
“You didn’t let him in? “
“No. It must have been after I dozed off. Don’t ask me how he got in. I know I haven’t given him the damn security code.”
“Me either,” said Milton. “You talk to him? “
“Just to say hi is all. He went to go take a shower.” Carlos laughed, but the sound held no mirth. “Who knows where he’s been? ”
“What’s so funny? ” Willie Howard asked as he walked into the living room. He had a cup of coffee in one hand and was wearing only a white t-shirt and jockey shorts. They could see most of the bright red and green tattoos covering his arms.
“Nothing,” Milton said. “What did you break? “
“Sugar dish,” Willie said. “Not usually that clumsy. Glad I wasn’t breaking in somewhere. You sound funny. What’s wrong? “
“He’s got a cold,” Carlos said tersely. He had tensed visibly since Willie had come in the room. Carlos was a guardian by nature. Willie was an assassin. They were cordial for Milton’s sake but they were not friends. It was like a trained German Shepherd watching a wild pit bull.
“Guess that tells me why Milt’s in his bathrobe at nine on a Friday. You guys not going to the beach? “
Carlos shook his head.
“You two look like you were having a serious discussion. Anything shaking in the wind? “
“Maybe,” Milton said. He gave Willie a two-minute rundown on the newspaper article, Joe Ball and Tabitha’s visit to Paradise Alley, and Carlos’ theories on the DA’s motives.
“Jesus Christ,” said Willie, “would Andrews really do something like that? “
“We think so,” said Milton, “especially if Joe Ball thinks it will work. If Andrews is planning to use this girl as bait to get me to play ball then it’s a sure bet it was Joe Ball’s idea.”
“Joe Ball,” said Willie. “That’s that weird fat guy who goes around wearing those exclamation points on his clothes, right? “
“Yeah,” said Carlos, “you can’t miss him.”
Willie meditated a moment staring off toward the window. Carlos thought it was one of those rare times that any family resemblance between Milton and Willie showed through. Willie had gone through minor plastic surgery during his exile from Lafayette but Carlos had not noticed much difference. Mostly it was the years that altered Willie’s looks and standing there, contemplating the DA’s office, with the flecks of gray showing clearly in his hair, Willie looked almost wise.
Then he turned his head back towards them and the green eyes were beaming, and Carlos saw Wild Willie again.
“What would happen if you played along? Let this gal reel you in? Would Dan Andrews really be stupid enough to indict Little Earl? ” Willie was smiling, his face alight with unspent laughter. “Would he? “
“We think so,” said Milton. He looked uncomfortable with the rush of information and intrigue. Carlos knew he would want time to sort it all out in his head.
Milton looked at Willie.
“Look, as long as you’re here we might as well get some small stuff out of the way.” Milt turned toward Carlos. “First things first? “
“Okay. I’m going down to Market Hall today and I’ll get all the notes for all the meetings you’ve missed. Boooring. But then there’s this high school thing.”
“What’s that? ” Willie asked. He was still standing and drinking coffee as Carlos explained.
“Our favorite asshole, Councilman Trot Bliston, is stirring the winds about all the shit that’s been in the paper. You know, the gang fights and the drug stuff over at Southeast High.”
Southeast was the high school on the Pleasant Boulevard side of town. The student body was almost entirely black. Most of the poorer whites went to Troy High, which Carlos and the three Howards had attended with varying degrees of success. Out in Vanglory Hills the rich kids went to Lafayette Academy, a private school. And the army brats had their own federal school on the base. Segregation had never really left Lafayette, Supreme Court be damned.
“Bliston’s going to propose a teenage curfew for one thing…”
Milton and Willie both said “asshole” at the same time.
“…and yeah, whatever, but Dennings and the mayor think next he’s gonna ask for a special allotment to fund a war on the drugs and the gangs. You know, new equipment, training, undercover stuff. He might even ask for a new juvenile hall and one of those boot camp places for delinquents.”
“Jesus,” Milton said, “that’ll cost a fortune.”
“Yeah,” Carlos said, “it could really hurt LEECORE’s chances of going through. Can’t buy the land if Bliston runs through the money.”
“Will Bliston’s shit pass? ” Willie asked.
“Not as things stand,” said Carlos. “Dennings can hold the boys in line. All five Democrats will vote against Bliston. But if another thing like that shoot-out hits down at the high school, Dennings said everybody’s likely to bolt. The Herald’s giving them too much hell. That girl who got shot was only thirteen and the bullet paralyzed her. There was another drive-by shooting yesterday where a boy got nicked. He was a Southeast kid. Even the Democrats got to watch the polls. Shootings and gangs make people nervous, especially at schools. We ain’t got the time or the money to waste buying every vote we’ve bought for LEECORE a second time to defeat Bliston’s stuff.”
“So,” Milton said, “the solution is to find something on Bliston. Get him to back down. Or make sure nothing else happens down at Southeast or on Pleasant. Is that what I’m hearing? “
Carlos nodded. Milton turned to Willie.
“What do you think? “
“I can look on Bliston,” Willie said. “I don’t know how hard, there’s other stuff I gotta do. But I’ll look. Meanwhile I suggest one of you gets in touch with Noodles and tells him to keep his niggers in line. Least ’till after LEECORE goes through. I can’t very well tell him on account of he thinks I’m dead. I got to dodge Pleasant as it is.”
“All right,” said Milton. “I can talk to Patches…” Carlos’ expression quickly darkened “…as soon as I’m feeling better, okay? Patches will get the message to Noodles. It can wait until then. While you’re at it Willie you might want to see if you can find anything out about this Van Doren lady. Maybe follow her around a bit even”
“Gotcha. If I get time.”
“That it? ” Milton said. Carlos nodded again.
Both of them turned towards Willie. They knew Willie’s DEA contact had arranged a meeting to impart some urgent news. They both expected it would be bad news. Good news would have been delivered over the phone and Willie had come to the house immediately.
Willie pulled out a Hurston-Roland cigarette ignoring the dark stare Carlos gave him. Carlos didn’t like smoking in the house and Willie knew it, but he did it anyway. In Willie’s world a rule was something that needed breaking. He exhaled once and gave them a serious look.
“Boys, we’ve been betrayed,” he said.
……….
To read the rest of Lafayette for free go to the blog Lafayette.
