Chapter 15

Bowman had not been long returned from his meeting with Mrs. Fremont when Emrick appeared outside the kitchen door. Learning that no decision had been made and that Bowman had talked with Miz Sarah rather than his mother, his eyes became steely and his lower lip protruded. This amused Bowman who filed away the thought that Em could be the soul of patience waiting for the game to begin but, once the door was opened, impulse was the master. He considered the incongruity disappointing, but not surprising.

"What did you have to talk with her for?" Em pouted as he blurted out the question.

"Because that is what your mother wanted. It wasn't my idea and it certainly wasn't Miz Fremont's! You'll probably get what you want, but you'll just have to wait until your mother's thought it all out, that's all."

Cocking his head to the side while staring through the screen door, Emrick asked, "How did Miz Sarah act?"

Bowman realized what his friend was asking, but sidestepped the question. "I thought she was a very glorious lady. But mostly I just felt sorry for her."

"How could you feel sorry for some rich woman owns a house like dat?"

"She was probably wealthy for much of her life, but I very much doubt that she's wealthy now. As for that house, it controls her life a lot more than she owns it." The point was very much lost on Emrick.

"Listen, if we're going to have an extended conversation, why don't you come inside?" "I ain't coming in dat house. Damn thangs gone fall in." Bowman walked outside to join him. "Em, I don't know what your mother is goin' to say, but it won't much matter if you can't convince that policeman you ought to come with me. He's goin' to be around here after a while and I need you to be here when he comes.”

He nodded his head and headed toward the front of the house. Bowman followed him up the ladder and to their accustomed seats. He smiled as he watched Emrick talk with animation. His excitement was such that he had hardly stopped for breath telling one tale after another about people living in the area, not once mentioning the upcoming trip.

He could not see the car approach the rear of the house, but he heard it moving up the drive and signaled to Emrick. They made their way to the ground by the time Flint shut off the engine.

Bowman quickly instructed Emrick, "This is important. Whether you like this guy or not doesn't matter, but his idea about you does. You must put on your best smile for him. Okay?"

"Sure, no problem."

As Flint exited his car, Bowman and Emrick proceeded alongside the vehicle to greet him.

"Detective Flint, this is Emrick T. Powell with one M and a K. Em, this is Bill Ed Flint with the New Orleans police department."

Emrick flashed a conspiratorial grin at Bowman and a smile to Flint. Speaking with uncharacteristic obsequiousness ,he said, "How do you do, Suh?"

"Fine, nice to meet you. Do you live around here?" Flint said stiffly.

"Yassuh, yassuh, I live 'roun' de curve from the sto'. Bowman and I spends time together mos' afternoons."

Bowman's mouth was agape, but it went unnoticed. Flint was obviously appraising Emrick. He eased slightly and responded, "Well, I'm envious. You know, I grew up around here and fished and hunted all up and down the river all the time I was growin' up."

"Sho'nuff?"

"It's a fact. You do much hunting and fishing, Emrick?" Flint asked.

"Nah, I really never did get into dat, but I spends lots a time in the woods and along the river, sos I knows it pretty good."

Flint moved closer maintaining eye contact. "Tell me, does Mr. Petrie still live over near Fort Adams?"

Emrick shuffled his feet, but met Flint's gaze. "No, Mr. Petrie passed two or three years ago, Miz Petrie's still dere dough, and dey boy stay 'bout four or five miles up de road."

Em smiled broadly and Bowman could feel that the magic was working.

Flint crossed his arms and nodded his head. "I'm gonna go by there after I leave here. Those folks sure were good to me while I was growin' up. When I would come out of the woods late, they'd let me use the phone to call my mama to let her know that I was all right. They were always so nice, it was hard to get away. Listen, I'm glad to get that information." Having said that Flint turned his attention to Bowman. Emrick took the cue and looked over to his friend.

"You goin' over to the river, Em?" Bowman asked.

"Yeah, I thought I would."

"Well, stop back by on your way home, okay?"

"A'wright, I'll see ya'll later."

Bowman wasted no time in telling Flint that he had read the material and had no flashes of insight to share with him. He said his instincts on reading the material continued to be that it was probably a group thing, and the only factor to suggest that it wasn't was the fact nothing had leaked out.

"Of course, you really can't draw too many conclusions from a synopsis." He paused and rubbed the sides of his lips' you up on this, but not the way you have it drawn out. If you can get the higher ups to agree to my conditions, I'm leanin' toward comin'. There's not enough to go on with what you now have to even hope that I can play a part in any solution. I'll just review your intelligence files on pedophiles and a more generic group of certifiable crazies; however, I might find something there to help in some other case. That might be interestin' and it's not like I have anything else pressin'."

"All right, what are your conditions?"

"One, no group meetings. You or whoever my contact is to be can use my name and speak in my behalf, but I'm not goin' to waste my time in bull sessions or dog and pony shows. Two, I won't come for any rental fee. It'll be under my usual arrangement or not at all. A free room, one hundred and twenty five dollars per diem and, if I solve the case to the satisfaction of Captain Aubrian, I'm paid a fifteen thousand dollar fee.

Specifically, I'll take no part in preparing the case for prosecution. If the captain is satisfied that I've identified the perp, or perps in this case, the money is due and payable. Regardless of whatever else I may turn up, if it has nothin' to do with the solution of the Porter case, I'm owed nothin' but per diem. Three, I won't personally involve myself in interviewin' suspects or takin' part in any arrest so that I can avoid wastin' my time havin' to testify, should things go that far." Bowman lowered his eyes and took a breath, then stared hard into the eyes of his friend. "Four, I need to be billeted within walkin' distance of the area where young Porter lived and was apparently killed."

"Now, that's a new one, Bowman. Why is that?" Flint asked and added: "I don't even know, offhand, of any hotel or motel around there."

"It doesn't have to be plush, just clean and bug free. It's where the most active street talk will be and it's a relatively safe residential area. I need to be nearby because Powell there is going to be on foot and I need access to him."

"What do you mean Powell is going to be there?" Flint asked incredulously. "What can he do?"

Bowman looked at him sternly and said: "Now you saw him. Have you ever met anyone as open and friendly in your life. He never met a stranger. He can get immediate acceptance in the community so I can learn things you folks can't hope to know about. Black people speak freely with one another, more freely than whites, but not to whites and not even to black policeman. Besides it's only goin' to cost the city my one hundred and twenty five dollars a day for expenses, which I'll share with Powell, and a room for him. For that you get to use my name, which is the department's principle interest anyway. The room is goin' to be donated and you know it. Anyway, those are my conditions." Flint looked at his friend in disbelief. Bowman continued quickly. "And, oh, wait a minute! Those expenses must be paid in cash each week in advance. I won't have time to go to a bank and I'll need to advance money to Powell. And, whoever my contact with the department is goin' to be must check in with me about ten o'clock in the mornin' and two in the afternoon and five in the evenin' every day. I must have a telephone number where I can reach them at night. If they are goin' to be away at night, I need to know how to reach them or I'll need an alternate contact. You know I work oddball hours and occasionally need to ask questions or make a request or recommend some change of direction."

Flint shrugged and shook his head. "Is that it?"

Bowman smiled and answered, "That's it."

"John, I'm not at all sure that I can get them to agree to Powell. That may throw a monkey wrench into the whole thing."

Bowman pursed his lips then smiled and lightly grasped Flint's forearm. "Well, if it does, that's no problem for me. I just won't come and there'll be no hard feelin's. But I must say that I'm savin' the city a ten thousand dollar fee if I don't solve it. And I think we both agree there's very little chance that's goin' to happen. But for what it's worth, the city will have my name and my best effort. I think they're getting a hell of a deal. All it's goin' to cost them is two donated rooms and the per diem. If by some wild chance I should solve it, fifteen grand would be a pittance. Yes, that's one hell of a deal.”

Flint and Bowman made their way to his car. As he opened the door, Bowman said, "I'll tell you what. Don't come all the way back out here, unless they don't go for it. In that case we can visit a while. If I don't hear from you by ten o'clock tonight, I'll assume it's a go and I'll call you at work a little before noon Monday. Then you can meet us and show us where we'll be stayin'. Have photocopies of everything available on the case with you because I want to get started as soon as I can orient Emrick."

"Good enough," Flint said. "I'll run on and get started and see you either tomorrow or Monday." He forced his body down into the driver's seat of the small car. Bowman bent over to look through the side window. "I'll see you Monday, Bill Ed, and I sure hope you will be named my contact. It'll be nice to spend time with you again."

"You have more confidence than I do that I can work this thing out. The superintendent doesn't have the slightest notion of what police work is really about. He'll get his back up over your dictating the deal. He'll be a problem. You've forgotten how bureaucracy works."

He backed away from the car. "No, I haven't forgotten, but you're not just talkin' about bureaucracy - that's just politics. I know a little about that, too. Believe me, he'll take the deal."

Flint shrugged once more as he cranked the engine and gave a slight wave as he slowly drove away.