Page 46 of City of Death

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“I see. And can I get the name of the person you were meeting with?”

“No,” he snapped. “I’m very sorry, Detective, but I can’t give the names of my clients so freely.”

“Fine,” she said. “Just a few more things and I’ll leave you alone. You said you saw Epps strike Mr. Lincoln. Was it a punch with his fist, or was there something in his hand?”

“I believe there was something in his hand.”

“How big?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you recall the color?”

“No, I don’t. As I said, I simply saw the end of the attack. I saw the follow-through of the swing or punch and then Mr. Lincoln was on the ground, and the black fellow crouched over him.”

“And you saw all of this from the mouth of the alleyway?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Long, was your appointment in Harlem?”

“No. As I told you…I’m uncomfortable with that stretch of the city. What sense would it make for me to do business there?”

“That’s a very good point. But you see, the thing that confuses me is that the only way you would be able to see into the alleyway behind the club is if you were heading deeper into Harlem. And maybe that was the case, but I don’t see how walking that far would be a shortcut. To be on that side street where you have access to the club, you’d have to take a walk of about half a block or so off of the central street. Did you get lost, perhaps?”

“No,” he said, clearly uncomfortable. “I just…I heard something strange, like a sound of distress. I wanted to see if anyone needed some help.”

“So you heard the struggle before you saw the attack?”

He thought about it for a moment and then nodded quickly. “Yes, that’s right.”

“But that’s not what you told the police when they took your statement.”

“Oh, I’m sure I did, though.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Oh, is that so? Maybe I was just confused.”

“Maybe so,” Ava said. And then, not giving him even the smallest moment to relax or regroup, she added: “Did you know Mr. Lincoln?”

He went to shifting again. He was doing it so much now that Ava expected him to get up out of the chair at any moment. “Yes, I did. I once worked for him, in fact.”

“Seems that was another thing you conveniently left out when the police took your statement. Now, why was that, Mr. Long?”

He was clearly frustrated now, making no effort to hide it. And while he had not yet gotten out of his chair, he was now sitting on the edge. “Listen. I had just witnessed a murder and I had cops asking me a lot of questions. I was flustered and confused.”

“So confused that you momentarily forgot about the fact that you knew the man you’d just seen killed? Mr. Long…is it true that you not only worked for Mr. Lincoln at one point, but that he also released you along with several other employees?”

“Detective, I’m no fool. I can see where this is going…the monstrous accusation you’re trying to pin on me. And I will not tolerate it.” He got to his feet and Ava did the same, making sure he knew she was not at all intimidated by him.

“I have more questions,” she said, angling herself in front of him. She stood in his way, making sure that he would either have to answer the rest of her questions or cause a bit of a scene.

“Well, I’m not answering them.” He leaned in closer to her and scowled, his voice a bit lower. “Just because you have a badge and your dead husband was a great cop doesn’t mean you can do his job. A woman detective…you really think anyone takes you seriously?” And then, with a slight shove to her shoulder, he said: “Get out of my way and get back to your kitchen, woman.”

The mention of her dead husband lit a fire in her that she had not felt burn in a very long time. The shove was just an added bonus.

“Mr. Long,” she said, “believe it or not, I’m actually very glad you did that.”

“Yeah? Why’s tha—”

She used some fancy boxing footwork to pivot around behind him. She had his right arm in her grip and was twisting it upwards before Albert Long had any idea what was happening. When he started attempting to fight, she grabbed his left arm and gently guided him to the wall where she pinned him against it and handcuffed him.

She was aware of the murmur of conversation behind her, shocked and surprised. But she was certain Albert Long was much more aware of it than she was. She could feel him tensing up, and she fully expected an explosive surge of yelling. But in the end, he decided to do his best to save what little reputation he might have left after all of this.

Keeping his voice low, he said, “Detective Gold, you just ruined your career.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see about that. For now, though, it looks like we’re going to have to have the rest of our conversation in an interrogation room.”


Tags: Blake Pierce Mystery