SLAP
To find a drug addict, you have to think like one. A dopefiend is like a really smart child. They are clever, but their logic is always juvenile and they tend to leave obvious clues because they are ashamed of themselves.
We could have been looking for RaRa's mother, Delores, forever if we didn't know this. We knew that she would be using somewhere close to her son's apartment in case she got into trouble or needed to steal something from him or compromise him in some way. An addict’s loved ones are always the best source for exploitation.
Delores didn’t have a car and was on foot, so notwithstanding a car service, she probably took the bus looking to score. We followed the bus route to the first bad stretch of neighborhood and started asking around.
Contrary to what people believe, there is no rule against snitching in the 'hood. A man or woman will drop on you in a second for money. It's only when people are watching that you will find tight lips.
We got three houses quickly. The first one had two armed guards and juvie lookouts. This was a sell house and the users could stay for a fee. No way Delores was in there, we thought. Too expensive.
The second one looked better. It was actually an abandoned row of commercial buildings that were marked for renovation. In the meantime, the Bergman Building was a communal flop house and whatever else locals could think of. The power was rigged and the heat probably was, too.
"Big place," I said. "We could be here a while."
"If they don't all run," said Vinny.
"I say we tell the truth. A man's dead and we're looking for a next of kin."
“You're getting soft, Cavanaugh," she smiled. “Time was, you’d just plow through until you got what you wanted.”
“Just trying to keep it simple," I said. “And I ain't the one killed a dude in our backyard."
"Not gonna let me forget that, are you?” Vinny said.
"Not for a while,” I responded.
Someone had put a hit on me in a case and made the mistake of trying to do it at my home. We caught him in the backyard and Vinny, barefoot and pregnant, had put one in his head.
We got out of the car around the corner from the place. We parked under a streetlight and made sure to leave my DPD sign in the window. We walked the block to the buildings.
"Smell that?" asked Vinny. "Barbecue."
Someone was grilling nearby and the smell was wafting all over, carried by the wind. Whatever it was, it was pungent and gamey.
The front of the place was guarded by an unarmed kid about sixteen or so. He was overweight and mixed race and had that look of desolation about him. It's in the eyes, a belief that there is nothing good to come. Tilt that one way, and the guy's a lost soul. Go the other way, and he's a killer.
This kid was the first kind, not dangerous but he'd accepted that his life was never gonna matter.
"Nickel entry," said the kid. "Pop que-ing back there.”
I handed the kid a five. He pocketed it and pointed to a narrow passage between buildings that led to the back of the place.
"We lookin' for a lady," I said. "Her boy is hurt bad and she don't know about it."
"Delores," said Vinny.
"I don't be gettin' names," said the kid, "but it's several females called “D” one way or another.”
Me and Vinny headed down the narrow walkway and as we did, the food smell became stronger and we could hear talking, cheering and music.
At the end of the walkway, a man stepped out. He had the same look as the kid out front, but tilted the bad way. Vinny tensed behind me. She felt it too.
“What y’all wont?” asked the man. He had a hard, craggy face. He’d seen some shit, I thought.
“Looking for somebody,” I said.
“We don’t do that and if ya’ll cops, you need a warrant. We squatters back here.”
“A woman’s son is dead and she doesn’t know,” said Vinny. “We’re just here to tell her.”
“Look, y’all know folks doin’ stuff back here. We don’t need no trouble.”
Normally, this is where I’d show him my badge or better the gun and shit would go left, but we were not trying to have a damned shootout over finding a junkie.
“Let me give you a name and you tell me if we can see her,” I said. “Delores Ranier.”
The big man’s face showed recognition but there was something not right about it. Vinny tensed again and I felt it too.
“D-Lo be with my man Jimmy,” said the man. “You gon’ ‘hafta talk to him ‘bout all that. He run the fight corner over there. Can’t miss him, he the biggest thing out here.”
The guard stepped aside and we walked in to what used to be the parking lot of the place. It was like a little marketplace and village.
Drug use was everywhere and right in the middle, was an old white man barbecuing his ass off. He had a huge oil drum grill and a long line of people waiting to buy a plate.
“I think that’s goat he’s cooking,” said Vinny. “Daddy used to cook those in a pit back in the day.”
“I’ve dug a pit or two,” I said. “Been a while since I had that.”
“That’s got to be him,” said Vinny pointing to a big crowd in the northeast corner where the cheering was coming from.
There was a circle drawn with paint and in it, two men fought bare-handed, while the crowd bet and cheered the men on. You could see dried blood in the circle, history of the fights before.
A Samoan with an afro sat on a raised bench watching the spectacle. He was big like a lot of Samoan men and he had that hard bent look about him as well.
I knew there were a few local bare knuckle fight clubs in the city but I didn’t know who was running the east side one, until now.
We walked over and were met by two men who patted us down. We told them we were armed and one of them ran over to Jimmy who walked over with three more men.
“Y’all need to raise up,” said Jimmy. “We don’t want no trouble and this is private property.”
“We need to see D-Lo,” I said.
One of them produced a gun and held it down by his side.
“We’re asking,” said Vinny. “It’s about her son. He’s dead.”
“Y’all off duty?” asked Jimmy.
“Yeah,” I said. “Not trying to violate people for living.”
Some of the men laughed and this eased the tension a little. Jimmy was thinking now and he could see we weren't here for trouble.
I had already calculated how I would shoot them if it got crazy. I’d move to my right, away from the one with the gun, while pulling the Glock with my left hand. Vinny would draw her weapon to my right. She’d hit the armed man and I would put one in Jimmy’s fat ass head. By then, the .45 would be out too and I’d catch one of the other men with it. Vinny would shoot another and then I’d just fire until no one was left standing.
“D-Lo belongs to me for the rest of this month,” said Jimmy. “She owes me and she’s working it off.”
We both knew what this meant. Delores was turning tricks for Jimmy on a drug debt. We also knew that she’d never be able to fully pay it off and would just ease into indentured servitude to the Samoan until she was no good to him.
Vinny was pissed about this. She had a thing about women’s issues and she saw a lot of this shit in the city, where women were treated like some kind of second-rate currency.
I gave her a look to say that she should let me talk. She would start cursing and then we’d never get out of here without violence.
“We’ll pay it,” I said. “She’s got to do the next of kin thing and we need to close this out.”
“How did he die?” asked Jimmy. “I thought he was some kind of computer kid.”
“Somebody killed him, robbery. His boss is a big shot in case you were wondering why we’re here.” I lied knowing the truth would be wasted on these guys.
“How about this,” said Jimmy. “I let her go and you owe me a favor.”
“Can’t do that,” I said. “I ain’t got it like that and I don’t lie to people no matter what they do for a living.”
“A woman lost her boy,” said Vinny. “Don’t that mean nothing to you?”
“Bitch got a big ass mouth,” said one of Jimmy’s men, a guy with a mane of dreads and big arms. “Might have to put something in it.”
The other men all laughed and I was hot. I know it was silly and Vinny can take care of herself but I was raised just like these men and I couldn’t help it. He insulted my woman and I take that shit personally.
“Vollo, what did I tell you about talking?” said Jimmy. “Apologize to the sister.”
“Fuck dat,” said Vollo. “Men are talking here. This ho need to be silent.”
More laughter from the men and I could see Jimmy was enjoying it too.
“I apologize for him,” said Jimmy. “We don’t insult women as fine as you.”
“How about I go a round with Vollo here,” I said suddenly. “He looks like a fighter. I win, Delores comes with us. I lose and I owe you that favor and we pay her debt.”
Jimmy and the crew liked this idea as I knew they would. It was not the greatest thing I ever came up with but I was very pent up about things and I needed an outlet for my aggression and I did not like this Vollo.
If I won, then fine but even if I lost, I’d still get what we came for, I’d just have to pay for it. Jimmy didn’t realize that my offer was a scam. He just liked the action.
“We do three rounds here,” said Jimmy.
“I’ll only need one,” I said. “If he makes it out, you win.”
Now there was cheering and more laughter as the betting started. Vollo was looking at me with anger as he had just been insulted. Jimmy looked at Vollo, who nodded eagerly as if to say he was sure he could beat me.
Vinny nodded to me. She was down with it and I couldn’t tell if it was because we needed Delores or because she had been insulted.
“One five minute round,” said Jimmy. “Vollo, you get the usual pay if you win.”
“If?” said Vollo snickering. “Negro, please. This White Hope won’t last a minute.”
I got into the circle and took off my coat. It was cold but we’d be working up heat soon. Vinny took my weapons. I saw her flip the safety off the Glock. Smart girl.
There are two kinds of fighters. The first kind was a guy who thought he was tough when he was just mean, angry and big. He liked hurting other people and the power he got just being unafraid of confrontation.
The second kind of fighter has made peace with his inner animal and is ready to die or kill every time he squares up. He fights because he has to and he wants to win because he has conviction.
I was the second kind of fighter and if Vollo was too, then I was about to take an ass-whupping. And so I kept telling myself that no matter what, I’d get my anger out and I’d get Delores. But don’t get it twisted, I wanted to whip his loud-mouthed disrespectful ass.
The match started and I waited as the crowd got into it. Street fighters are given to spectacle and so I knew he’d want to put on a show. I was taller and heavier but he was younger and probably faster. He thought this was an advantage. Maybe in a foot race, but not necessarily in a fight.
Vollo threw some measuring punches and I caught them easily. They had power and they hurt even when deflected. He grinned and danced trying to look bad.
I was thinking about Koney the bully and how fights are usually quick.
Suddenly, I shot out a hand a hit him in the face but it was not a fist. It was a slap.
Smack!
The crowd gasped because women are slapped like that. Vollo got angry and waded in catching me with a hook to my side and another blow that grazed my temple. I saw this second shot coming but I let it hit because he had twisted his body over his stance in his anger at my insult and before he could get back…
Smack!
A backhand to the other side of his face. The crowd reacted again, only this time there was laughter in the mix.
Well, Vollo was definitely the first kind of fighter because now he was hot. I wanted him to be. The brothers are easily put off their game by humiliation. They get so much of it indirectly each day, that it was a tipping point when it was direct.
“Easy Vollo!” yelled Jimmy from behind me.
Vollo bolted at me and lunged just like Koney did. It was so fast, that he almost caught me off guard.
He met my right hand on the bridge of his nose. Vollo fell backwards on his ass. When he got up, I was on him and this time I slammed a fist into the side of his head. He wobbled and fell to one knee. He tried to get up but kept falling.
I went to him and grabbed him by the dreads and slapped the shit out of him again, then I hooked him hard to the jaw and he went down for good.
The crowd groaned and gasped and cursed. Money changed hands and I could see Jimmy was not happy.
I went over to Vinny and put on my guns and coat and walked calmly over to the Samoan. My hands were red and already bruising. I felt good.
“Who the fuck are you?” asked Jimmy.
“Just a concerned citizen tonight,” I said. “Where’s Delores?”
I could see Jimmy thinking about going back on our deal. But if he did that, his word would mean nothing to his people and he’d lose face.
“Green van second row. Tell that bitch to stay way from my shit,” he said. “I mean it.”
“I can see you’re a standup guy,” I said. “So, I’ll give you that favor as long as it don’t involve a homicide. Ask for me and I’ll do what I can.” I handed him a card.
Jimmy and me looked at each other and he could see I was not lying. Every man in the city has a code and it’s either good or bad.
“Bet,” said Jimmy glad to have gotten something out of all this, which made his men look at him with respect because of my respect to him. “What’s your name?”
“Cavanaugh.”
Vinny and I walked towards the vans while Jimmy’s men pulled Vollo off the ground.
“You need to put some cold on those hands,” said Vinny. She grabbed my arm and I knew I’d be getting me some later. Women were always turned on by shit like this.
Delores Ranier was a thin, brown-skinned woman with a short haircut over what used to be a cute face. Drug use and a hard life had stolen her beauty as it always does.
Her little feathered cut looked fresh. Black women and their hair fascinated me. Here she was, a drug addict sold into urban slavery, turning tricks and yet she had found some woman in this squatters’ house to do her hair.
Delores stood smoking cigarettes with two other women by a green van which was rocking as one of her other sisters was in there working.
“Delores?” I asked.
“Who wants to know?” she said.
“I’m Detective Cavanaugh and this is Officer Shaw. We’re here about your son, Raymond.”
Before we told her anything, I saw recognition in her eyes. All mothers in cities like Detroit dreaded a visit from the police and those words.
Delores began to shake and just started to cry. She fell and I caught her before she hit the ground. We each took an arm and easily carried her away as she sobbed.
We went back to the front of the place and we let Delores stand on her own.
“Can you walk?” I asked.
“What’s wrong with her?” asked the kid at the front.
We didn't answer. We just moved up the street, back towards our car around the corner.
“He’s dead, isn’t he?” asked Delores.
“Yes, ma’am,” said Vinny. “We’re sorry.”
“I knew it,” said Delores. “It’s my fault. I was never no good to the boy.” She sobbed again.
“Delores, we need you to hold it together,” said Vinny. “I know this is bad, but I’ve lost my sister too, the same way. We both have to be—“
Vinny was a little surprised to see I had both guns out and I had moved in front of her.
We’d left our car under a street light. But as we got to the corner, I could see no light coming from where we had left our ride.
This is one of those things people who live in the city noticed. Someone had knocked out the light. If they saw the police sign on it, why would they do that unless…
Vinny whipped out her gun and pushed Delores back as we got to the corner. I tossed Vinny my keys and nodded to her. She knew what I was going to do.
“What’s going—“ said Delores.
“Shhh,” said Vinny. “Quiet.”
I checked the street around us. Nothing. If they were laying for us, it was on the street beyond. They hoped we’d just turn the corner and then they’d shoot us.
Vinny hit the panic button on my key-fob and the car’s police lights and horn went off. I turned the corner.
“Police!” I yelled.
I saw a figure in the flash of the lights. It looked to be a man. He raised a hand and I moved as he fired.
I swung into the street and fired the Glock. I saw a spark rise from the street light pole where I’d hit it. I fired the .45 a second later and I heard the slug slam into the concrete of an abandoned house just beyond the car.
I vaguely saw the shooter turn the corner. I started after him, but I wasn’t sure he was alone and I had a witness to protect.
“Get to the car!” I said.
Vinny hustled Delores into the car as I covered them. I jumped into the back and we drove away.
I wanted to go after him but that was a fool’s errand. I kept forgetting our killer was probably a cop. His car was close by and he was long gone.
“Oh Jesus,” said Delores. “Am I in trouble?”
“Yes,” I said. “We all are.”
**********
We took Delores to my father’s house as it was closer. We needed to question her before we turned her over to DeAngela in IAD.
My father, Robert Cavanaugh, is a tough old man who still has a touch of Irish brogue in his voice. He’s slowed down in his old age, but once, he was the baddest dude I knew. Now, he was mellow, didn’t drink, doted on his grandson and liked to watch police videos on what he called “The Youtube.”
And he had a girlfriend, a woman named Sophia Samson who he’d met at mass. Just like the brothers, the Irish pick up women at church.
I told dad about the case. I could trust him and he loved to help out. He still had a keen mind and Vinny and I both valued his counsel.
We all sat at the kitchen table and talked while Sophia made coffee.
“He was so much better than me and his daddy,” said Delores. Her eyes were so red, they looked bloody. “So smart and never got into any trouble. I don’t know who would ever want to hurt him.”
“We need to know how your son contacted you,” I said. “We think he might have left you a message.”
“I walked out of the halfway house to get high,” said Delores, not really hearing the question. “He was mad. My baby was mad at me when he died.” She started to cry again.
“Now’s the time to get clean,” my father said abruptly. “I know you feel bad and all, but your boy ain’t coming back. I drank for thirty years before I got sober and when I did, it saved my life. You wanna catch whoever killed your boy, listen to them. They know their stuff. And after you bury your son, me and Sophia can go to see Father Carrin at the church and get you into rehab.”
Dad was on a very self-righteous kick since getting clean and I was not going to stop him in this case.
Delores stopped crying. Vinny handed her some tissue. We needed to get to this soon or the woman might just run off and overdose or something else stupid.
“Did Raymond keep a phone or email account in your name?” asked Vinny.
“I hid it,” said Delores suddenly. “Raymond gave me a phone, a nice one. He left me messages on it sometimes and I didn’t want to sell it. I know myself.”
“Where is it?” I asked.
“In my old room at the halfway house,” said Delores.
Vinny and I looked at each other at the same time. We were not the only ones who knew that. Whoever had found Delores when we did and taken a shot at us also knew.
Sophia brought the coffee. She was a plump little lady with a head of gray hair.
Delores loaded her coffee with sugar and I saw my father shake his head with pity.
“Where?” I asked. “We searched that room.”
“It’s in the ceiling in the closet,” said Delores. I kept it off so no one would hear it.
“This is very important,” I said. “The police are going to talk to you about your son’s killers. I don’t want you to tell them anything about that phone.”
“Okay,” said Delores. “But why?”
“Cops can’t be trusted now,” my father said. “Danny, you and Vinny go get that phone. We’ll take her downtown.”
“IAD, dad,” said Vinny.
“Shit, I hate them,” said my father casually.
“Cursing,” said Sophia.
“Sorry babe,” said dad.
Vinny and I left and went back to Second Chances. The new occupant of Delores’ old room was not happy about being awakened so late.
We found the phone right where she said it was. It was in a plastic bag along with some pictures of RaRa as a kid.
This made me a little sad but I didn’t say anything about it. I was upset because RaRa was a good kid and now he was gone. All of this was getting kind of personal to me. I wanted to go back to Jimmy’s and have another fight.
We took the phone back to our house but we didn’t tell anyone in the family what we had found.
Vinny and I connected the phone on her laptop and the phone came up like a drive. It was not locked or coded and so we could see everything on it. There were numerous voice messages, and there, the night of the murder was a message with a video file on it.
I pressed the icon and the video played:
"What the fuck?” said Ivory.
Ivory’s face popped up and the words “livechatapp” appeared in the corner in red. Vinny was visibly struck and covered her mouth to stifle a sob.
"Keep me on the line," said RaRa. "Them muthafuckas be trippin' these days."
"No worries," said Ivory. “I got it."
"Oh, it's your sister's man."
“Naw it ain’t him. It’s… Look, I'll see you at what time?"
"Nine, Greektown," said RaRa.
“Cool.”
Ivory got out of the car and turned into the glare of the lights behind her and the video went off but not before catching a shot of the police cruiser and the serial number plate in its windshield.