The Night Gardener

'Doesn't prove he wasn't, either.'

'I'm only sayin.'

'Right.'

Wilkins let Ramone have a moment.

'I went through the boy's bedroom,' said Ramone, having collected himself. 'His locker as well.'

'Anything?'

'Nothing pertinent that I could see. He had a journal, apparently, but it seems to have disappeared. In light of this report, we need to prioritize finding that journal.'

'When I spoke to him, Mr Johnson said there was no cell phone.'

'That's right.'

'Did Asa have a home computer?'

'There was a PC in his room. I didn't find much personal stuff on it. The Sent and Deleted e-mail boxes were empty. His Favorites column had listings for games and Civil War sites. Nothing else.'

'Did you go into History?'

'Uh, no.'

'You got a teenage son,' said Wilkins. 'You better get hip to this shit. You can delete your e-mails and the Internet sites you visit and bookmark, but it's still in the computer, in History, unless the kid wipes it out. The really careful kids program their PC to automatically delete the history every day. Sometimes every seven days, or monthly. It's like brushing your trail away. But if Asa didn't do that, whatever he was into should still be in there, somewhere. It's pretty easy to dig it out.'

'For you.'

'I'll take care of it.' Wilkins tapped the eraser end of a pencil on his desk. 'What else you get?'

Ramone hesitated. 'Nothing I can think of right now.'

'This thing with the boy,' said Wilkins. 'Someone's go

'I'll talk to the father, the time comes.'

'I can understand if you don't want to. It's my lookout.'

'No, it's on me.' Ramone stood.

'Heading out?'

'Goin home,' said Ramone.

He stopped at Rhonda's desk and had a seat on the edge of it. Bo Green was gone, and Rhonda was looking at a mess of papers like they had been powdered with anthrax.

'That looks fun,' said Ramone.

'You got some paperwork on your desk, too, Gus. Not that you go by there anymore.'

'I'm hoping my secretary will do it.'

'You get up with Garloo?' said Rhonda.

Ramone told her about the ME's findings and described his day.

'Now you,' said Ramone.

'I ran Dominique Lyons. Our boy's got quite a history. Agg assault, which took, and attempted murder, which didn't. Scheduled witnesses did not testify; possible intimidation noted. He was a suspect in two other murders, but those never went to trial. No weapons recovered, no wits. So what I did was, I got a photograph of Lyons from out the files and took it and the photographs of Jamal White, our victim, and I drove down to that classy bar on New York Avenue where Darcia Johnson and Shaylene Vaughn, Ho Number One and Ho Number Two, dance nekkid.'

'I think they wear G-strings at the Twilight, if memory serves. Technically, they're not in their birthday suits.'

'They're close enough. So I go down there and have a talk with our police officer friend, Randolph Wallace. Man who works the door when he's not in uniform?'

'He's your friend now, huh?'

'We're not exactly backslappin buddies. But he was very cooperative. Seems our friend Dominique Lyons was in the club last night, and guess what? So was Jamal White. Officer Wallace knew of Lyons straight away because he frequents the Twilight and often leaves with either Darcia or Shaylene, and sometimes both.'

'And how'd he remember Jamal?'

'Jamal was seated at the bar. Dominique had some words with Jamal, more like a taunting kind of thing, and Jamal left out the place by hisself. About an hour later, Dominique and Darcia went bye-bye as well.'

'Together?'

'Uh-huh. I'm thinking Jamal took the bus down New York, transferred uptown to the Seventh Street-Georgia line, and was walking back home from Georgia Avenue when he was shot.'

'You like Dominique Lyons for the murder.'

'I liked him enough to put his name out on the sheets. And could be we got a witness in Darcia Johnson, too.'

'That would be nice.'

'I tried calling Darcia's cell number, but she's not answering the phone.'

'No shit.'

'What I also did was, I've got an officer placed over there by the girls' apartment, around Sixteenth and W?'

'Dominique knows we're looking to talk to him. You think he'd go there?'

'If Shaylene was trickin up in there last night, and it looked to me like she was, he's go

'Okay. You said you had something you wanted to see me about. So what else?'

'This is a long play, but look: the slugs recovered from Jamal White's body were thirty-eights. Garloo tells me that Asa Johnson also died from a thirty-eight.'

'And?'

'Same-caliber weapon used in killings just a few blocks apart within twenty-four hours. And you know a thirty-eight revolver is not the gun of choice for these young ones. I mean, it could be a coincidence, but it's worth looking into.'

'So, for shits and grins, you're saying we should compare the markings. See if the bullets came from the same weapon.'

'I ordered the tests.'

'What in the world would co

'I'm not saying they are co

'You tell Garloo?'

'I'm fixin to,' said Rhonda.

'Okay,' said Ramone with a long exhale. 'Okay.'

'You look like you could use a drink.'

'I could.'

'There's that place down on Second, got those booths. They play that Quiet Storm stuff at night. You remember that bartender, the one with the heavy hand?'

'I'm going home,' said Ramone.

'Suit yourself, handsome. Keep your cell on for further developments.'

Out in the parking lot, where he could get service, Ramone activated his cell and dialed the number he had gotten from Janine Strange earlier in the day.

'Hello.'

'Dan Holiday?'

'Speaking.'

'It's Gus Ramone.'

Holiday did not respond. Ramone listened to dead air and then took the lead.

'You want to come down to the offices and make an official statement?' said Ramone. 'Or should I send a car out to get you?'

'Neither,' said Holiday after another block of silence. 'You wa

'Just you and me?'

'There'll be someone else.'

'I got no time for attorneys.'

'He's not a lawyer,' said Holiday. 'You'll remember this guy. But I don't want to spoil it for you.'

'Always gaming.'

'You want to meet or not?' said Holiday.

'Where?'

'There's this bar-'

'Uh-uh. I want you sober.'

Ramone gave him the location. Holiday said he'd see him there.

CHAPTER 24

Ramone drove down Oglethorpe Street and put the Tahoe behind Holiday's black Town Car, parked across from the animal shelter. He could see Holiday and another, much older man standing in the community garden by the yellow tape that was still strung at the crime scene. The sun had dropped, as had the temperature. Some of the garden was shrouded in shadow and some was tinted golden by the dying light.

As Ramone came upon them, he recognized the old man. His photograph had run in the newspaper stories included in the file he had copied from Cold Case. There had been extensive details about him in the Post regarding his command of the squad investigating the Palindrome Murders, as well as in the later follow-up story in the City Paper. And then there was his Stetson. Ramone would not have forgotten that.

As he reached them, Ramone could see that Cook had aged badly, a result of possible health issues. His mouth drooped on one side, indicating a stroke.

'Sergeant Cook,' said Ramone, extending his hand. 'I'm Gus Ramone. Nice to see you again.'