“Yes, I did. I tried going into the club, but the owner wouldn’t let me. There was also some very large man poking about—a bouncer, I assume. So I didn’t want to start trouble. I simply walked back outside and waited for the police to arrive.”
“Sir,” Ava said, “in that entire time, did you ever see the man you accused of the murder try to leave?”
“You know, I didn’t,” he said thoughtfully. “I don’t know if the owner made him stay there or if the other colored folks talked him into staying but now that I think of it…no. He never once tried to leave.”
“And were you still there when the man was arrested?”
“No, I wasn’t. But one of the officers assured me that the murderer would be taken to prison.”
Ava looked to Frank to see if he had any further questions, and when it was obvious he didn’t, she turned back for the foyer.
“That’s all, then,” Frank said. Then, tipping his hat, he added: “Thanks for your time.”
When they were back outside, standing in front of the building, Frank peered back through the window. “You believe him?”
“Not really,” Ava said. “He says Monty Lincoln was hit over the head with something large—and that does line up with what the band said about the condition of the body. Cracked skull, bruise on the head…”
“But there was no heavy weapon found in the alley or on Carter Epps,” Frank said. “So what the hell is going on here?”
“Not just that, but he says he thinks it could have been some sort of musical instrument. And I can tell you right now that a jazz musician who is struggling to pay the bills is not going to take their instrument out into a dirty alley without a second thought. So I doubt that part of it, too.”
“Why would he lie about such a thing, though?”
“Not sure,” Ava said. She knew what came next and she was starting to feel a bit of panic about it. Epps came next, of course. And she was starting to worry what it might mean if she turned out to be wrong and Carter Epps was guiltier than she thought. Because so far, everything they knew to be facts seemed to point directly to this conclusion.
“You ready to talk to Epps?” he asked.
She swallowed down her fear, trying to seem as unaffected as possible. “Yeah,” she said. “I think we have to.”