“Four hundred an hour,” said Milo. “Three, four times a month. Nice chunk of cash-outlay.”
“He never complained.”
“Management consulting,” I said.
She looked at me. “Consulting. Yeah, I like that- that’s class. Maybe I’ll use that instead of Recreational Counselor.”
Milo said, “Tell me about tonight. Exactly the way it happened.”
She chain-lit another cigarette. “What happened is that they came here at nine-thirty, did their things-”
“Both of them?”
“This time, yeah. Piggy took sloppy seconds- he liked it that way, wouldn’t let me wash. And then I gave them something to eat. The Colonel. Legs and breasts and cole slaw and biscuits. Leftovers from the night before, but they ate it like it was fancy French cooking. Standing up, in the kitchen. Drank two cans each of my Diet Pepsi. Then they paid me and split. Money’s in my undies drawer- go check. Twelve hundred- twelve ones. New bills. I said to Sam, ‘What’d you do, honey, just print it?’ He liked that, laughed, and said, ‘That’s my job. I’m on the Finance Committee.’ After they were gone and I put the money away, I went into the bathroom, turned on the shower. To clean off, get them outa me. While the water was running I heard it- almost didn’t hear it ’cause of the water, but I did. Bang bang. I know that sound. Like a fool I looked out the window, saw them lying there, him running away. Like a fool I called and did my civic duty and now I’m sitting here talking to you, chief.”
Milo said, “Who’s him?”
“The shooter.”
“One guy?”
“One’s all I saw.”
“What’d he look like?”
“All I saw was his back- running behind the garage. There’s a low fence behind there. He probably got in that way- got out too. Rotten wood- I been meaning to put in a new one. You check, you’ll probably find some kind of footprint. There’s gotta be footprints ’cause it’s muddy back there, got a leaky sprinkler, the water settles. Someone had to leave footprints. You go on and check and see if I’m telling it straight.”
“Tell me more about the shooter.”
“Nothing more to tell. Dark clothes- I think. It was dark. I dunno.”
“Age?”
“Don’t know- probably young. He moved like he was young. Not like an old fart. I seen plenty of old farts move, believe me.”
“Height?”
“Not too tall or too short that I noticed. I mean, nothing hit me as being one way or the other- it was dark.”
“Weight?”
“Same story, chief. There was nothing special about him. Just a guy- I saw his back. It’s too far to see good. Go look for yourself through that window. And dark. I keep it that way, so people can park and get out without no one seeing ’em.”
“What did his face look like?”
“Never saw a face. Can’t even tell you if he was black or white.”
“What color were his hands?”
She thought. “Don’t recall. Don’t know if I even saw hands.”
“Average height and weight,” said Milo, reading from his notes. “Probably young.”
“That’s it- if I could tell you more, why wouldn’t I?”
“Black clothing.”
“Dark clothing. What I mean is, nothing shined out, like a light-colored shirt or anything, so it was probably dark.”
“What else?”
“That’s it.”
“Doesn’t add up to much, Cheri.”
“You think I’m gonna chase after him to get a closer look? I was stupid to look in the first place. Soon as my brain cleared and I realized what was happening, I dropped to the floor. Only reason I looked in the first place was I got caught by surprise. I mean, this was not what I expected to happen.”
She closed her eyes, held the cigarette with one hand, her elbow with the other. The robe came loose, exposing heavy, black-nippled breasts, between them an inch of mocha sternum.
Milo said, “How do I know for sure you didn’t finger them for the guy, Cheri?”
Her eyes opened, very wide. “’Cause I didn’t. Why would I do that and get myself all involved- do it in my backyard?”
“For the money.”
“Got enough money.”
“No such thing.”
She laughed. “True. But I didn’t. Give me the poly. I’m not that smooth.”
She let the robe open wider. Milo reached over and closed it, placed her hand on the outer flap, and said, “Anything else you want to tell me, Cheri?”
“Just get me outa here. Outa L.A. With André.”
“We’ll be checking everything out and if you’re being righteous, I’ll be righteous with you. Meanwhile, I do want you to call your attorney and tell him to meet you over at West L.A. Division. You’ll be driven over there and wait for me. It’ll take me a while to get over there. When I do, you’ll repeat the statement you just gave me in front of a video camera.”
“TV?”
He nodded. “Tonight you’re a star.”
She said, “The names I’ll give you- what’s in the book. But I won’t do that on tape.”
“Fair enough, long as you’re straight.”
“I will be. Bet on it.”
“I don’t bet much on anything anymore, Cheri.”
“This time you can, I swear it.” She crossed her heart.
He said, “What’s your attorney’s name?”
“Gittelman. Harvey M. Gittelman.”
“Even though you gave this of your own free will in front of a witness, I want Mr. Gittelman with you when we tape. He can shoot his mouth off all he wants, raise two-hundred-buck-an-hour objections. I get paid overtime, and I got nothing to go home to. After we’re finished you’ll be released in his custody and asked to stay in town for as long as we need you. If you make any attempt to leave town, I’ll put you in Sybil Brand as a material witness and André will miss his mama. You’re not gonna want to stay in this place, what with the way the lab boys are going to tear it apart and the way your neighbors are gonna relate to you after the shit hits the fan- which it will. Soon. So it’s okay for you to stay somewhere else, long as I know where it is and long as it’s in the county. You want to do business in the new place, keep up the mortgage, that’s fine with me too. Got it?”
“Got it. I swear it. But no business. Business means people, and people are problems. I need a vacation.”
“Up to you.” He stood.
She said, “When can I sell this place? Get my equity out?”
“If it turns out you’re not involved in the shooting I can clear it for you pretty soon- a month or so. If you’re fucking with me, I’ll tie it up for years. Not that it’ll matter, where you’d end up.”
She crossed her heart again. “I’m not fucking with you. God’s truth. All I want is my equity.”
She started to get up.
He said, “Sit there. Don’t move. I’m gonna call Officer Pelletier back and she’s gonna watch you while you get dressed. We’ll want that kimono to analyze. She’ll also put bags on your hands until one of the techs comes in and does a paraffin test. That’ll tell us if you’ve fired a gun lately- or worked with industrial-strength fertilizer.”
“Been working with plenty of shit,” she said. “But not that kind. And no gun. Bet on it.”
“You’ll also be printed so we can run you through NCIC. Any outstanding wants or warrants, better to tell me now.”
“Nothing. Bet on that too.”
“One thing I will bet on,” he said. “You’ve got half a dozen monikers.”
“Not that many. And I haven’t used them in a long time.”
“Give ’em to me anyway.”
She ticked off her fingers. “Sherry Nuveen, with an S, like the wine. Sherry Jackson. Cherry Jackson, with a C. Cherry Burgundy. Cherry Gomez- that’s when I had a spic on my back. He made me take his name, like we were married.”
“Nuveen your given name?”
She shook her head. “Mom’s second husband’s name. I took it when I was seven. Then he left.”
“What’s the name on your birth certificate?”
“Jackson. Sheryl Jane Jackson. With an S. DOB four/ eight/fifty-three, just like the license says. I look younger, don’t you think?”