CHAPTER TEN
As Frank drove through the midday New York City traffic, he did his best to keep up appearances. Ava was used to seeing him cool and collected no matter what sort of situation they were in. This was true of both their professional lives together and their romantic life. However, while his façade looked mostly put together, he felt slightly torn apart on the inside.
He’d been truthful when he told her than he wanted to stay on the case because he needed to see it through until the end. But what he’d downplayed was the fact that he did still think she needed a more objective perspective on Carter Epps and what he may or may not be capable of. And then there was the fact that he didn’t want to let her out of his sight when she was upset with him. He knew it was immature and maybe even borderline obsessive, but he’d also told her the truth about how he dealt with relationships. He’d only ever cared this much about one person before and that had ended badly when that particular woman had found another beau. And until they had settled things between them, he honestly didn’t know if he’d be able to keep his mind clear for work. So keeping her by his side seemed like the only fitting solution.
Frank had gotten the address of Monty Lincoln before they’d left the precinct. It seemed like a bit of a shot in the dark, but they figured it might be worth checking to see if the family knew of any potential links between Monty and Carter Epps. This led them in the direction of Manhattan, where the automobile traffic grew thicker. Driving through the Manhattan streets gave something of a glimpse of what the future would be like, Frank supposed. Trying to imagine cars on these streets, bumper to bumper while pausing to allow pedestrians to cross, was a bit uncomfortable to him, but he was sure that’s the way the city was heading. Hell, maybe even the entire country.
The Lincoln family lived down a side street that seemed to have been plucked straight out of London. Their house was a large, expensive brownstone. Just seeing it gave Frank a feeling of anxiety. He wondered how many wealthy families were currently living in homes like these and still paying them off. Faced with the current financial crisis, that must be its own special form of hell.
When Frank knocked on the door, it was answered right away by a middle-aged man with a very long, very white beard. He was dressed as if he were about to step into a very important business meeting but his face was occupied by a stern and sorrowful expression of grief. He did something of a double take when he saw Ava standing next to a man who was very clearly a cop of some kind.
“Yes?” the man said, his voice haggard and tired.
“Detectives Wimbly and Gold,” Frank said, showing his badge. “We were hoping to ask some questions to the family of Mr. Monty Lincoln, if possible.”
“Oh, absolutely,” the man said. He stepped aside and ushered them in. Before even closing the door, the man started talking. “We’ve had one cop come by, but that was yesterday. We were assured the man who killed Monty had been arrested. Is this more or less just a follow-up?”
“Basically, yes, sir,” Frank said. “If you don’t mind, might I get your name?”
“Samuel Lincoln…Monty’s brother. As I’m sure you can imagine, Monty’s wife and son are completely destroyed over this. Anna, his wife, hasn’t spoken but a handful of words since we got the news. And his son has holed himself up in his room. He’s refusing to eat and though he will talk, it’s awful stuff. He talks about wanting to kill the man who took his father away, wanting to take to the streets and do whatever is necessary.” Samuel sighed and came to a stop in a large, nicely furnished parlor. “So I’ve been acting as the spokesman for the family ever since it happened.”
“That’s completely understandable,” Ava said. “And while we’ll eventually need to speak with the wife, at least, hopefully you can give us some information.”
“I’m happy to do so. And I know quite a bit about my brother. We were very close and I…” He stopped talking for a moment, trying to keep a wave of grief away. He gave a sorrowful smile and said, “Whenever Anna is able to start taking these sorts of visits, I do think I’m going to break a bit as well, you know? But someone has to be strong for right now. So…ask me whatever you need to know and I’ll try my best to help.”
“Well, one of the things that is striking us as odd,” Frank said, “is that your brother seemed to be very respected. A fairly well-known property owner and developer. So we found it strange that he appears to have been working towards buying a jazz club in Harlem. It seems to not line up at all with his other interests.”
“And you would not be the first to suggest such a thing,” Samuel said. “Now, not many people knew about his interest in that club. Just myself and I think one of his financial planners. But Monty had been eyeing a few properties in Harlem over the last few months. And when this stock business got nasty, I think he decided it was the right time to strike. He figured he could get some places for pretty cheap. Monty…he was always forward thinking. All of his uptight friends would never think of doing business in Harlem. And I think it was because of that, that Monty was so interested. No competition, you know?”
“Did he have any working relationships with business owners in Harlem?” Ava asked.
“Now that, I don’t know for sure. I’d assume so, though. Monty was pretty good at talking to just about anyone, and that included colored folks. And he’d already purchased two apartment buildings over that way, and as far as I know those transactions went smoothly.”
“So let’s say this deal for the jazz club had gone down the way Monty had hoped,” Frank said. “What do you think he would have done with it?”
“He planned to turn it and a few others he had his eyes on into an all-whites establishment. When he started catching whiffs of that stock market disaster, it lit a fire under him. He figured the market crash would send all those sloppy Harlem business owners into a panic. And once the business owners were gone and the businesses were passed on to more capable hands, that would also lead to the beginning of the end of the black population in Harlem.”
Ava didn’t think she’d ever heard such a racist sentiment, and she’d heard a lot of them. She wasn’t naïve enough to think that even the most refined or open-minded folks living in the city didn’t have at least a bit of racism running through them, but this was a truly disgusting take on things. Looking over at Frank, she thought it had taken him aback too. Still, she managed to keep herself in check, remaining professional as she pressed on.
“Was he openly hostile to any of the Harlem business owners?”
“Not sure, but I’d be surprised if he was. Monty…well, he could get along with damn near anyone. Especially if there was a bit of money to be made from it.”
“And in the little bit he did tell you about these plans,” Frank said, “did he ever mention anyone who had crossed him? Was there anyone that he mentioned might be a threat? Maybe someone who had even threatened his life?”
Samuel shook his head and smiled a bit, as if he had been expecting the line of questioning to end up here. “Not to me. It doesn’t surprise me, really, because the last time I spoke to him, he said he was on very good terms with the few business owners he’d been speaking with.”
“Would you happen to know any of the names of the owners he’d been in contact with?”
“No, sorry. He kept the names rather secret. He liked to brag about all that he was working on but never revealed names until a transaction was complete. He was always a little superstitious in that way.”
A sad look crossed his face as he thought fondly back on his brother. Ava wasn’t sure of what else to ask and, given the extreme views and opinions insinuated by Samuel, she didn’t think speaking to his wife would offer anything else. She had a feeling that Monty Lincoln was the sort of man who shared more information with his brother and other men in his life than with his wife, anyway.
Frank seemed to pick up on her mood. He gave Samuel Lincoln a grin and offered his hand for a shake—all posturing, really, Ava knew. “Mr. Lincoln, I do appreciate your help. And we may very well be back to speak with the wife and son in the next few days. So maybe just let them know that we stopped by, would you?”
Samuel took the offered hand and shook. “Of course, Detective. Feel free to come by at any time.”
Frank led the way out of the parlor and then to the front door, which Samuel opened and held for them. Not another word was spoken until they reached the car, parked in front of the house.
“Well, we didn’t learn a single thing from that, now did we?” Frank asked.
“Of course we did,” Ava said. “We learned that both Monty and his brother are racist and think they are superior to black people.”
“Do you think it was a racially motivated crime?” Frank asked.
“I don’t know. I hate to automatically assume such a thing just because the victim is white and the current suspect is black, but based on the way Samuel was talking, I think it might very well be the case. And if it had gotten out that Monty’s plan was to buy up businesses in the hopes of driving black people out of Harlem, I think that would open up our list of suspects to a wide range of angry people.”
Frank was thinking so, too, even though he’d done his very best not to assume the entire thing was based on race. He understood where Ava was coming from, but he’d seen more of the backstreet vibe this city had to offer, the grit and darkness of it. He’d seen the worst of it, something Ava was only getting her fist real glimpse of.
He wanted to protect her from it but as they forged on in search of a killer and in the hope of freeing Carter Epps, he was very much afraid that she was going to end up seeing it up close and personal.