CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Ava sat in the car as she watched Frank come hurrying down the stairs of the porch of the Lincoln residence. She also saw the door partially open behind him as Samuel Lincoln started out. He didn’t exactly look unhappy, but perhaps a little worn out. She supposed this made some degree of sense if he was still working as the representative of the family while the wife and son continued to grieve.
Frank got back into the car, taking his place behind the wheel. He seemed pleased with how things had gone and even gave Samuel a little wave through the window as they pulled away from the curb.
“How are the Lincolns?” Ava asked.
“Well, Samuel is still very much on our side. He told me did read the article in the paper, but he wants to make sure the man that truly killed his brother goes to jail—and if we don’t think it was Carter Epps, then he believes us. So he was happy to help, and gave me the addresses without any hesitation.”
“That’s good. How about the wife and son?”
“I heard the wife, Anna, speaking to someone in the parlor; Samuel said it was the pastor of the church they attend. He also said the son has finally started to speak but looks like he might fall asleep at any moment. He says the son night be in a very strong state of denial because he keeps talking about waiting for his father to come back home any minute now.”
“Poor kid.”
“I agree—only he’s not a kid. Marcus Lincoln is actually nineteen years old, apparently. Samuel just told me that, too. They apparently had Marcus when Anna was very young. Samuel seems to think that one of the reasons Marcus is so wrecked over this is because he now understands that he’s going to be expected to take up his father’s good name and business ethics.”
“Any chance we can come back to visit with the wife if things at the apartments don’t pan out?”
“Yes, and Samuel even recommended that. But he also noted that Anna was pretty clueless when it came to anything regarding Monty’s businesses. But I’d still say it might be worth a shot.”
Monty drove back into Harlem and there was a jarring moment where Ava realized that she was starting to miss the clubs and her brief stint as a jazz singer less and less. Coming into Harlem did bring to mind some of the shows she’d performed but with every week that went by as a detective, she realized that her singing days might be behind her. It stung her deep down inside her heart, but she was also slowly coming to terms with the idea that being a detective was her first passion outside of raising Jeffrey. In an attempt to make sure Carter Epps didn’t go to jail, it was a passion that she realized had always been there; the badge simply gave her more rights and freedoms to let it out.
Ironically, they had to pass the Candle’s Wick on their way to the apartment buildings. There was a sign up that hadn’t been there earlier, promoting “Live jazz music tonite!” Apparently, Tony was ready to carry on with business as usual—whatever usual might be in this uncertain economic time.
The apartments were located a bit further back in the neighborhood, where there were no businesses but just stretches of ramshackle houses, apartment buildings, and other dwellings that looked to either be on the brink of collapse or in the process of just being built. Frank pulled up in front of a three-story brick building. It looked to be in much better shape than the vast majority of other dwellings. Ava was pretty sure there were new windows along the front. Also, the front stoop was clean and almost inviting, the complete opposite of every other front stoop on the street.
“I wonder if the quality is a glimpse into what Monty had in mind for his Harlem properties,” Ava said.
“Yeah, and if it’s reflected in what the tenants are paying in rent,” Frank commented.
Past the front door, there was no lobby. There were two hallways, one leading to the left and the other straight ahead. A stairwell sat at the end of the forward-facing hall. There were only two doors along each wall, both to the right and straight ahead. That meant twelve rooms in all, if the remainder of the building contained the same layout.
“Split up?” Ava asked.
“Makes sense,” Frank said. “We are running out of time.”
They split up at the doorway, Ava heading to the left while Frank walked down the hallway directly ahead of them. Ava knocked on the first door she came to and got no answer. After waiting a few seconds and knocking again, she leaned close to the door, but the silence that greeted her made it apparent that no one was home.
She then tried the next door and the moment she knocked, she heard soft, shuffling footsteps. After a few seconds, Ava heard those footsteps approach the door. “Hello?” a young female voice asked from inside. “Wh-Who’s there?”
Ava realized that it was a young girl, certainly no older than thirteen. “My name is Ava Gold,” she said. “I’m with the police. A detective.”
“Oh? Really?” the girl asked, curious.
“Really.”
“Oh. Well…my mother and father aren’t here right now. And they make me promise to never answer the door when they’re away.”
“You have some very smart parents. Maybe you could answer something for me. I know that someone new now owns this building. Do you know if your parents are happy here?”
“I…I don’t know. I think so. But Daddy says we might have to move because the people that need money for us to live here are asking for more money.”
“I see,” Ava said. And then, feeling certain there was nothing more to come from a conversation with a child, Ava said, “Thank you. You’ve been a very big help.”
“You’re welcome!”
Ava left the door and walked back to the main hallway. There, she found Frank waiting for her at the stairs. “No one home in either of those,” he said.