A Small Gray Dot

“Yeah. I seen ‘er. Twice. I wouldn’na paid no ‘tention but she was right pretty and warn’t from around here. Almost got lost lookin’ at ‘er. Seen ‘er yesterday morning going down Main and seen ‘er agin ‘bout a quarter to seven tonight. She was with a man. Last I seen of ‘em they was headin’ down Carter Street. They ducked in a house.”

Carter Street. Interesting.

“Any idea of where they might’ve been before you saw them on Carter?”

“Naw, but they turned on Carter off a Main, and that time they was coming up Main.”

“Was she with the same man when you saw her yesterday?”

“Yeah.”

“Is there some sort of nightclub down Main?”

“Uh-uh. Ain’t no nightclubs in Blue Heaven, man, jist bars. You wanna go to a club you gotta go out in th’ city.”

I thought for a moment then asked, “Did she appear to want to be with him?” The two people that were at the nightclub with her Thursday, said she was flirting with a man and she left willingly with him. She told them he was taking her to a club in Blue Heaven. One of her friends had seen him around before and said he thought the guy was okay. But, this man, whoever he was, had lied to her. There was no nightclub. And, there was the fact that she’d not come home or contacted her sister since then, something the elder Ms. Effingham said was not usual.

He shifted around. “Well, she warn’t smilin’ if that’s whatcha mean, but she didn’t look like she was tryna git away from ‘im, either. ‘Course, not bein’ from around here she mightta been scared a gittin’ lost if she ditched ‘im.”

That could be the case, especially if she’d tried to leave him before, thereby learning about that particular hazard of being in Blue Heaven.

“You wouldn’t happen to know the address on Carter Street would you?”

“Naw, but it was th’ big house on th’ corner. Ever’body knows that house.”

That was even more interesting. It was the one to which I’d made the deliveries for Adam.

“Who lives there?”

“Name’s Arthur Bennett and he ain’t down there a whole lot but he works at th’ Semptor. He ain’t no medical but ever’body calls ‘em Dr. Bennett.”

Doctor? I wondered about that but it wasn’t important at the moment.

Frank added, “He warn’t th’ man with ‘er, though.”

That didn’t surprise me.

“Did you recognize the man she was with?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I seen ‘im around. I don’t know ‘im real good but he lives ‘round on Spruce. Works at the Semptor, too. Jist ‘bout ever’body ‘round here does, ‘cept a few, like Joe.”

I nodded.

“Do you know what this guy does there?”

“Naw. See, I work there but I don’t much know what most a them folk do ‘cept th’ packers an’ loaders. I jist pack shit an’ put it on a truck. Sometimes in th’ spring, one of ‘em will have me put down some more gravel on th’ streets.”

So, it was Semptor who was providing that ankle-turning paving. And whoever this guy with Morgan was, he wasn’t simply a packer.

“Could you describe him for me?”

“Hmm, well he’s a young feller, kinda tall maybe not as tall as you, but bigger n’ you. He’s got light brown hair an’ blue eyes.” His bleary eyes brightened for a second and he said, “Hey, in case you need it, his name’s Ken Talbert.”

That sounded like the man with whom Morgan had left. Her friends hadn’t remembered his name, though. I was going to have to thank my ex-client again, for sending me to this nosy man.

“Thanks, Frank. Now, can you remember what they were wearing when you saw them today?”

“Well, didn’t pay much ‘tention to what he was wearin’.” He gave a sheepish grin showing yellowed but straight teeth. “I was too busy lookin’ at th’ girl. She had on th’ same clothes both times I seen ‘er – tight purple pants and a short yellow jacket. Had on a purple knit hat.” His forehead wrinkled, then he said, “I ain’t sure what else Talbert had on but he was wearin’ a blue leather jacket both times. Wouldn’t’ve noticed that ‘cept it was a peculiar shade a blue.”

“Did they come back out of the house on Carter?”

“Naw, not that I saw. They prob’ly still there – ‘less’n they come out in th’ last hour. Folk don’t much wanna walk around here at night.”

“Have you ever seen this Talbert guy at the doctor’s house before?”

“Yeah, I seen ‘im there a coupla times.”

“Good. Describe Dr. Bennett for me.”

“Nice old gent with gray hair, gray eyes, wears coke-bottle glasses, ‘bout my height but skinnier. He’s kinda quiet but he’s friendly enough, he always speaks to me.”

That pretty much described the man who’d taken the deliveries, though his “gray” hair was a matter of opinion. My hair was gray; his was more of a Santa Clause white. If he were fatter with a beard, he would be a dead ringer.

“Anybody else live there?”

“Naw, old guy lives alone. Got a housekeeper what comes in a couple times a week to clean, but she ain’t there on Saturday’s.”

My ex-client was right. Frank certainly was nosy.