on my knees.
He stared at me for a few seconds. I imagined that I was his first guest in many days. He was trying to recall how to be a host in his own home.
“Why don’t you sit, Melvin?” I said.
He regarded the sofa for a moment before sitting down at the end farthest from my chair.
“Dodgers lost last night,” he said. “Back east somewhere. I said when Koufax quit that they were in deep shit.”
I knew men that had gone senile and forgotten their children’s names but they could still reel off sports scores from a dozen years before.
“Why’s the LAPD on your ass, Melvin?”
He jerked his head as if he’d been slapped.
“What’d they say?” he countered.
“That you hooked up with a woman you arrested.”
He squinted at the words as if they were bright, cancer-inducing sunbeams.
Then he nodded and said, “Mary Donovan. Seven months ago. I arrested her for passing bad hundred-dollar bills at a fancy downtown clothes shop. It wasn’t even my beat. I was covering for a guy had appendicitis. Just followed the numbers to her door in West Hollywood. Just followed the numbers.”
“And you had a thing?” I asked.
On the wall behind Melvin I saw a line of tiny black ants that had discovered the trove created by his despair. He had been looking down upon the dirty carpet, but when I asked about his connection he raised his head, fixing me with a confused stare.
“I’m in love with her, Easy.” These words tore from his throat. “I’m in love with her,” he said again, “and she’s gone.”
He didn’t care about the ants, the eviction notice, the police investigation, or even the possibility of going to jail. He probably hadn’t bathed in a week, hadn’t cut his hair in a month. Melvin Suggs, as cynical a man as I had ever met, was, maybe for the first time in his life, heartbroken.
At that moment I felt, keenly, that he and I were of the same race despite any color schemes.
“What happened?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “One day we were drinking Champale on a blanket at Redondo Beach and the next she was gone.”
Moving Day
.
“She was gone and a week later I got suspended,” Melvin was saying. “I hadn’t been to work for days. They said that I was on forced leave without pay and subject to review for conduct unbecoming an officer. I wasn’t even positive what they were looking for until you just told me.”
“You knew that you let Mary off.”
“I would have,” he said. “I would have, sure, but I didn’t need to. I couldn’t prove intent. She’d taken a thousand dollars in hundred-dollarbills out of a downtown Bank of America three days before I busted her. Even a court-appointed attorney could have claimed that she got the boodle from the bank without knowing what it was.”
“You think her disappearance had anything to do with your troubles?” I asked. I had to.
“No,” he said, shaking his head like an old Roman general after his last defeat. “No. We were good together, Easy. I know her.”
He slumped back on the sofa and stared out over the detritus of his coffee table.
The problem was him and possible charges by the police department. But all Melvin cared about was the woman that had probably betrayed him.
“I’m on a case, Mel.”
“Yeah?” he said, not looking at me.
“Missing girl.”
He grunted.
“You help me with that and I will find your Mary Donovan.”
That got his attention. He looked up warily.
“How would you do that?”
“I’m good at what I do, Detective,” I said. “They don’t see me comin’, don’t know when I’m there, and couldn’t tell you when I left. People so worried about my threat that they don’t see the danger.”
Suggs was a smart man who liked smart men. He was a fool for love but if you have to be a fool that’s the best way to go.
“You can find her?” he asked, a child in his voice.
“Frisk said that if you quit the force, jail time would be off the table,” I
He stared at me for a few seconds. I imagined that I was his first guest in many days. He was trying to recall how to be a host in his own home.
“Why don’t you sit, Melvin?” I said.
He regarded the sofa for a moment before sitting down at the end farthest from my chair.
“Dodgers lost last night,” he said. “Back east somewhere. I said when Koufax quit that they were in deep shit.”
I knew men that had gone senile and forgotten their children’s names but they could still reel off sports scores from a dozen years before.
“Why’s the LAPD on your ass, Melvin?”
He jerked his head as if he’d been slapped.
“What’d they say?” he countered.
“That you hooked up with a woman you arrested.”
He squinted at the words as if they were bright, cancer-inducing sunbeams.
Then he nodded and said, “Mary Donovan. Seven months ago. I arrested her for passing bad hundred-dollar bills at a fancy downtown clothes shop. It wasn’t even my beat. I was covering for a guy had appendicitis. Just followed the numbers to her door in West Hollywood. Just followed the numbers.”
“And you had a thing?” I asked.
On the wall behind Melvin I saw a line of tiny black ants that had discovered the trove created by his despair. He had been looking down upon the dirty carpet, but when I asked about his connection he raised his head, fixing me with a confused stare.
“I’m in love with her, Easy.” These words tore from his throat. “I’m in love with her,” he said again, “and she’s gone.”
He didn’t care about the ants, the eviction notice, the police investigation, or even the possibility of going to jail. He probably hadn’t bathed in a week, hadn’t cut his hair in a month. Melvin Suggs, as cynical a man as I had ever met, was, maybe for the first time in his life, heartbroken.
At that moment I felt, keenly, that he and I were of the same race despite any color schemes.
“What happened?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “One day we were drinking Champale on a blanket at Redondo Beach and the next she was gone.”
Moving Day
.
“She was gone and a week later I got suspended,” Melvin was saying. “I hadn’t been to work for days. They said that I was on forced leave without pay and subject to review for conduct unbecoming an officer. I wasn’t even positive what they were looking for until you just told me.”
“You knew that you let Mary off.”
“I would have,” he said. “I would have, sure, but I didn’t need to. I couldn’t prove intent. She’d taken a thousand dollars in hundred-dollarbills out of a downtown Bank of America three days before I busted her. Even a court-appointed attorney could have claimed that she got the boodle from the bank without knowing what it was.”
“You think her disappearance had anything to do with your troubles?” I asked. I had to.
“No,” he said, shaking his head like an old Roman general after his last defeat. “No. We were good together, Easy. I know her.”
He slumped back on the sofa and stared out over the detritus of his coffee table.
The problem was him and possible charges by the police department. But all Melvin cared about was the woman that had probably betrayed him.
“I’m on a case, Mel.”
“Yeah?” he said, not looking at me.
“Missing girl.”
He grunted.
“You help me with that and I will find your Mary Donovan.”
That got his attention. He looked up warily.
“How would you do that?”
“I’m good at what I do, Detective,” I said. “They don’t see me comin’, don’t know when I’m there, and couldn’t tell you when I left. People so worried about my threat that they don’t see the danger.”
Suggs was a smart man who liked smart men. He was a fool for love but if you have to be a fool that’s the best way to go.
“You can find her?” he asked, a child in his voice.
“Frisk said that if you quit the force, jail time would be off the table,” I
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