“He sat with me for a while, then when it got dark, I asked him if he was going to go to bed. Up in his old room, just like old times. I thought he must have been pretty tired after the big day, but he said he wanted to go out for a little bit. I got kinda upset about that, because I know he’s on parole, for one thing, and they have all sorts of rules about where you can go and how late you can stay out at night. Then he asked me if he could borrow my sister’s car for a little bit, and I got really upset. Because I knew he still has to go down and get his license. But he insisted on going out. He just said, ‘I gotta do it, Mama. I’ve been cooped up all these years. I just gotta get some air in my lungs and move around a little bit.’ So eventually I just let him take the car for a while, as long as he promised to come right back.”
She stopped again. She smoothed the fabric of her dress over her knees.
“He never came back?”
She shook her head. A fresh tear ran down her cheek.
“So what happened today? The police came?”
“They rushed right in and started looking for him. Going up the stairs. I told them they had no right to do that, but they said on account of Darryl being on parole, they can do whatever they want. Go in anywhere and just drag him out.”
“I’m afraid that’s true,” I said. “You give up certain rights if you’re on parole.”
“Yeah, well, I never gave up my rights. They had no cause to do that.”
I looked around the room. “It doesn’t look bad right now. Did you have to clean things up?”
She dismissed that with one wave of her hand. “I don’t care about mud in the house. Not with Darryl in trouble again. If I cleaned today, it was just to keep my mind busy. I didn’t know what to do, Mr. McKnight. If I didn’t have your number to call, I don’t know who I would have turned to.”
“Mrs. King…”
“Thank you, by the way. Did I say thank you yet?”
“Yes, you did. It’s okay. But tell me exactly what the police said to you.”
She shook her head, like she didn’t even want to think about it. “Just nonsense, they were saying. They wanted to know where he was. They kept telling me I must know and that I’d better tell them or I’d get in trouble.”
“But you didn’t know? You had no idea?”
“Of course not,” she said, giving me a sharp look. “Do you think I’d be sitting here if I had any idea where he’s at right now?”
“Mrs. King,” I said, knowing this next part would be tough. “Did they say anything to you about what they thought Darryl had done?”
“Yes.” Her voice was dead calm. “They said some foolishness about an old retired detective being killed. Way up north. Like a three-hour drive. I told them Darryl couldn’t have had anything to do with that.”
“Did they mention that that old retired detective was the man who arrested your son?”
She looked away from me, shaking her head. She can’t handle this, I thought. She can’t let herself even think about what this might mean.
“He didn’t do it,” she said, looking back at me. “Whoever got killed, wherever it was, up north or just down the street, I don’t care. Darryl’s spent half his life in prison and he’s not about to throw away whatever time he has left. It’s that simple.”
“Okay, I understand.” What could I even say?
“You have to help me, Mr. McKnight. I know I have no right to ask, but I don’t know who else to turn to. Will you please go find my son and bring him back to me so we can get this whole mess straightened out?”
“Mrs. King…”
I may not have to look for him, I thought. He might end up finding me first.
“Please, Mr. McKnight. Alex. I’m begging you.”
On the other hand… Given the choice between waiting for him to show up on my doorstep and actually doing something…
I didn’t get the chance to say anything else, because at that moment I glanced out the front window and saw the Detroit police car pulling up behind my truck. There were two officers in the car. One was looking at my license plate and talking on the radio. The other was opening his door to get out. He looked both confused and unhappy, never a good combination in a cop.
“This is going to sound a little strange,” I said to Mrs. King, “but do you have a dollar?”
“I do, yes…”
“Can you give it to me?”
“Right now?”
“Yes, please.”
She reached into the waist pocket of her dress and pulled out a dollar bill. She gave it to me.
“You just hired me as a private investigator,” I said. “I now have the right to be here, no matter what the police say. And anything we say to each other is protected by client privilege. Do you understand?”
“I think so.”
“Good, it’s nice to be working for you. Stay right here a minute, okay?”
I left her there in the house and walked out the front door to meet the officer.
“Stop right there,” he said. “I’m going to need some ID.”
“You just ran my plate,” I said. “You already know who I am.”
“Some ID, please. Right now.”
I took out my driver’s license and handed it to him.
“What precinct are you guys from?” I said. “Oh no, wait, you don’t even have precincts anymore, right? It’s all districts now?”
“Can I ask what you’re doing here?”
“Look, I’m a former Detroit cop myself. So can we start over?”
He gave me back my license. “I just need to know why you’re here. I also need to know if you have any connection to Darryl King.”
“No, I don’t. I’ll be honest and tell you that I’m looking for him, too.”
“Mr. King is the subject of a murder investigation, Mr. McKnight. Not to mention the fact that he’s already violated his parole. We’re going to need to know any information you might have in regards to his current whereabouts.”
I dug around in my wallet, thankful that I hadn’t cleaned it out in a while, and found another of my old PI cards. “I’m currently a licensed private investigator. I’ve been hired by Mrs. King.”
“You’re supposed to let the police know if you’re working in our jurisdiction,” he said, looking at the card with a frown. “You know that.”
“I do know that. I was just hired thirty seconds ago. So consider this your heads-up.”
The other officer, done with whatever he was doing on the radio, got out of his car and joined us.
“Mr. McKnight,” he said, “I just talked to a Detective Gruley from the Michigan State Police. Is it true you’re the one who found Detective Bateman’s body this morning?”
“Yes,” I said, looking back at the house. “It’s been a hell of a day.”
“The detective has a message for you,” the cop said. “He wants to know, with all due respect, if you’ve lost your mind.”
“I wouldn’t bet against it,” I said. “But let me ask you guys something.”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but who’s coordinating your surveillance these days?”
The two officers looked at each other. They clearly had no idea what I was talking about.
“You can’t pull up in a squad car,” I said, “and announce to the world that you’re here, while at the same time you’ve got your other man down the street…”
“What man is that, Mr. McKnight?”
I pushed past them and went to the sidewalk. I looked down to the parking lot, to where I had seen the man with the binoculars, in the green minivan.
He was gone.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
When the two police officers drove off, I walked down to the end of the block. The street had fed into the parking lot behind the apartment complex, once upon a time, but someone had decided there needed to be a gate here to secure the lot. It had obviously been decided long ago, because I remembered this gate being here back in the day, when I was sitting in that panel truck watching the house. The weeds had grown up on both sides of the gate now. I would have bet anything it hadn’t been touched since the last time I was this close to it.