Even on a Wednesday night Susie’s Café was packed with millennials gorging on cheap, spicy food, old men hanging out at their neighborhood bar, and office workers from the nearby financial district loosening their ties, kicking off their shoes, and doing the limbo.
As for the Women’s Murder Club, we had an easy time letting down our hair in this diverse and rowdy atmosphere, so much so that years ago we’d made Susie’s our unofficial clubhouse.
The steel-drum band was playing “Happy,” and a group of six was heading out as Claire, Yuki, and I scooted past the kitchen pass-through to the back room, where we could speak without shouting.
Lorraine was wiping down the table in “our” booth and said, “Jerked beef is the special tonight.”
We thanked her and slid into the banquettes, Claire and I on one side, Yuki sitting across from us. It took only seconds to choose from the menu, which hadn’t appreciably changed in at least ten years.
I said to Lorraine, “Cindy’s working overtime.”
It wasn’t a lie, but it was shy of the truth. Cindy had begged off our dinner date because she was still mad at me for asking her to sit on her story that drug dealers were victims of sniper shootings in several cities. It wasn’t just any old scoop. The Barons’ deaths had gone wide on national TV, while Cindy’s name was not on the front page of the Chronicle.
I hadn’t been able to give her a fullhearted apology, and Cindy knew how to hold a grudge. I explained that to Yuki and Claire, and Claire said, “You’re both stubborn.” Yuki’s two cents: “You had to ask her to hold it. She’s a bulldog, but in a day or so she’ll get over it and be on to the next.”
Lorraine appeared at our table with pencil and pad in hand. Claire and I ordered beers. Yuki ordered a shrimp salad, and Claire said, “I’m gonna say…I’ll have jerked beef on a roll.”
I asked for gumbo and a basket of bread.
“That’s all?” Lorraine said.
“I might order some key lime pie in a little while.”
“It could be gone, Lindsay. If not, I’ll nail down a piece for you while I still can.”
The frisky waitress headed for the kitchen pass-through window, and after she had gone, Claire asked Yuki, “What’s the emergency, sweetheart?”
Yuki was clearly dressed for court, in a blue suit, a V-neck silk blouse, and high-heeled shoes.
“Clayton Warren, that junior wheelman I’m charging with car theft, possession of drugs with intent to distribute, and acting as accomplice to murder of a cop.”
We both nodded. We knew. If convicted, Warren, who was eighteen, would get serious time for serious crimes.
“His arraignment was set for today. I’m looking for him, and his attorney comes in, tells me that his client tried to hang himself this morning.”
“Whaaaat?” Claire and I said in unison.
“Let me restate that,” said Yuki. “He did hang himself with a bedsheet hooked over a heating pipe in the bathroom.”
Claire was consumed with a sudden coughing fit, excused herself, and said, “My asthma.” I gripped her hand under the table as she said to Yuki, “He’s dead?”
“Not quite. Another prisoner grabbed his legs and yelled for help. He’s in solitary with a neck brace and round-the-clock guards. But think about it. He hasn’t been indicted, let alone tried. He could go free. And if he’s convicted, he could appeal. There’s no death sentence in the charged crimes. So why’d he try to kill himself?”
We tossed Yuki’s question back and forth across the table, agreeing finally that in the absence of an answer from the kid, his family’s lives must have been threatened as a warning not to flip on the actual killer dealer. Claire thought he was depressed, ashamed, and certain he would be convicted.
I said, “Sounds like he would rather die than go to prison.”
Yuki didn’t buy it. “There’s something we don’t know. His attorney doesn’t know it, either. The kid’s been completely passive since his arrest.” Yuki shook her head. “Maybe it doesn’t matter why he’s working against himself, but I’m sure he’s got a reason. So where does that leave me? I’m wondering if I can just do a C-minus job when he comes to trial.”
I said, “Are you kidding?”
She wasn’t. Yuki looked at our stunned expressions and said, “Look. I could get away with it. I’ve got a reputation, you know. I lose cases when I’m brilliant and the defendant is guilty.”
Sadly, that was true.