“How the hell should I ’member that?” he said belligerently.
“Try hard,” Fearless advised.
“I dunno. Three mont’s. Sumpin’ like that.”
Anthony winced then and put a hand against his jaw.
“So you met him a long time before he had you beat on Drummund,” I speculated.
“Yeah,” Anthony said. “Yeah. String-whatevah had me put a scare into a dude named Katz too. That was aftah I first met ’im. He paid me a hunnert dollars for that.”
“Did you say anything to these people when you beat them?” I asked.
“I cain’t talk like that in front of a lady,” Anthony demurred.
I could have reminded him of the language he had used in front of Three Hearts in the alley earlier that day, but I felt sorry for him.
“What I meant was did Stringly have any message that he wanted you to give them?” I asked.
“Yeah, uh-huh. He told me to say that they went down this road on they own an’ they wasn’t goin’ back. He said to tell ’em that if they paid, the pain would go away.”
“What did you do to them?” I asked. I don’t know why. It wasn’t relevant to what we were looking for, but Anthony fascinated me when he was no longer a threat.
“Broke some fingers an’ knocked out a couple’a teeth.”
“For a hundred dollars.”
“I’d kick yo’ skinny ass for nuthin’,” he replied, unable to keep the sneer off his lopsided face.
Fearless placed a hand on Anthony’s forearm. It was a light touch, but Anthony flinched.
A sharp pain made Anthony bring both hands gingerly to his jaw.
“Anything else you want?” he cried.
“What was Ulysses into with this Stringly dude?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Come on, man,” I said, selecting my words delicately. “Everybody knows that U-man liked to talk. He wouldn’t just bring you somewhere and not say somethin’ ’bout what he was up to.”
“He said that him an’ Stringly was tight,” Anthony said, straining at the memory. “He said that they had a scam goin’ gonna make ’em rich. That’s it.”
“He didn’t say nuthin’ ’bout what they was doin’?” I asked.
“Naw. Just that, just that white people was thieves too, it’s just that they never got caught ’cause they stole big.”
“That doesn’t prove a thing,” Three Hearts said with deadly conviction.
“That all, Paris?” Fearless asked me.
I nodded.
Fearless put a hand on Anthony’s shoulder.
“You bettah get to the hospital, Tony,” he said. “That jaw you got there is broke pretty bad.”
Mad Anthony stood away from the booth and staggered toward the door.
Chapter 14
“What was all that stuff about U-man and what Ulysses like t’talk?” Three Hearts asked me when the big man was gone.
I knew she would take umbrage at any hint of an accusation toward her son.
“I was just tryin’ to get him to remember, Auntie,” I said. “You know sometimes you just have to say the first thing come in your head when you talkin’ to a rough man like that.”
“But why did you say what you said?”
I swear I saw her left eye flashing.
“Hearts,” Fearless said in an impossibly reasonable voice. Impossible for me, that is. My heart was fluttering like a sheet in a Santa Ana wind at that moment.
“What?” she said to my friend.
“You know Ulysses,” he said. “You know what he do. If you didn’t you wouldn’t’a got on a bus and gone hundreds of miles ovah a lettah where he said he was doin’ good.”
“My son is a good man,” she said.
“I’m not sayin’ he ain’t,” Fearless said. “But you know that he was doin’ somethin’ wit’ Tony there. An’ you can see what Tony is like.”
“But Ulysses did not order him to beat up anyone,” she said.
“I don’t know about any’a that. All I know is that Paris here is tryin’ to help you, an’ you givin’ him grief.”
When Three Hearts looked Fearless in the eye, he gazed back with a sanguine expression on his handsome face. It was like the meeting of two heads of warring tribes. Anyone seeing them would have known that something very important hung in the balance.
“He’s my only child, Fearless,” she said at last. Tears sprouted from her eyes.
Fearless put his big hand across the table and held both of hers therein. Her forehead lowered to the knot of fingers and the tears flowed freely.
“An’ Paris an’ me wanna help, baby,” Fearless said, “but a lotta people gonna be callin’ your boy Useless and U-man and all kinds’a things. An’ you know Paris here smart as they come. He cain’t be answerin’ to you every time he have to ask somethin’.”
She raised her head to look at her momentary father. She nodded and freed her hands from his loving grip.
“I know,” she said.
She turned to me and smiled, her eyes lowered.
“You wanna go stay at Paris’s while we look?” Fearless asked.
There was a moment where Three Hearts seemed to be considering Fearless’s ill-conceived offer.
“No. I better not,” she said after what felt like a very long minute.
I exhaled, hoping that they didn’t register the sigh.
“Where you wanna go, then?” Fearless asked.
“Ovah to Nadine’s, I guess,” she said.
Nadine Grant was Useless’s father’s sister. She had moved to L.A. with her first husband, but he had died in a warehouse fire and Nadine had married his brother Otem. Otem got pneumonia and passed six months after the wedding. After that Nadine, who was a very handsome woman, got engaged to a man from Tennessee called Morley. Morley had a college education and two houses. The problem was that his real name was Henderson and he’d murdered a man in southern Louisiana in the late twenties. He’d run to Tennessee, changed his name and his way of life. But when he got engaged to Nadine, one of her cousins recognized Henderson and told a relative of the murdered man. Morley/Henderson was extradited to Louisiana, tried, convicted, and hanged.
After that, Nadine swore off men. She lived in a nice house on Sixty-third Street, where she had a front yard that sported dozens of different kinds of flowers. Nadine worked as a librarian in Compton, and so I saw her from time to time when I’d drop by to pick up books she was discarding at the end of the summer and fall seasons.
“Hi, fearless,” Nadine said after greeting Three Hearts when we appeared at her door.
Nadine never seemed to recognize me when we met away from her library. She’d always give me a quizzical look and then fail to place my face.
“Ms. Grant,” Fearless said in greeting.
The women gabbled at the front door for a minute or two, then I cleared my throat.
“Oh,” Three Hearts said. “Honey, would you mind if I stayed here with you for a couple’a days? Ulysses has gone missin’ and my nephew here has agreed to go look for him.”
“Missin’?” the black widow exclaimed. “I hope he ain’t in no trouble.”
“I don’t think it’s nuthin’ serious,” Three Hearts said, rather unconvincingly. “But I wanna stay around until Paris find him.”
“Oh sure, darlin’,” Nadine said with a big forced grin. “I could use the company.”
We left them there standing on the porch: old Evil Eye and Typhoid Mary among the flowers, counting up the dead.
Back in the car I informed Fearless of what I knew.
“Seventy-two thousand dollars?” he said. “Ulysses? Where that poor son gonna come up wit’ money like that?”
“Blackmail, extortion, intimidation, and threats,” I said.
Fearless laughed.
“What’s funny?” I asked.