“Well, you’re in luck. They’re due back here around noon or so. They were hoping to get together and talk about everything one more time, making sure they have their stories straight, just in case people like you came by to ask questions of them.” He looked to them, puzzled, and said: “Carter still in a cell?”
“As of this morning,” Ava said. “We’ll be speaking with him later to get his side of the story. Right now, I’m more interested in this witness that claims he saw the murder happen. What can you tell us about him?”
“I haven’t seen him since he left here yesterday. I saw him speaking to the cops when they got here but after that, he seemed to have just kicked dust.”
“Was the band still here when the cops arrived?”
“Yeah, and I think that was smart. They hung around to make sure it didn’t seem suspicious. Didn’t work out well for Carter, but I still think it was the smart play.”
“Did it seem to you that there was ever a moment when the police that were here got agitated with either the band or the witness?”
“Oh, the band for sure. The coppers just straight out assumed the band was lying to them. But I think even they realized that there was absolutely no evidence. There was the one guy off the street who claimed to have seen it, but like I said, he was nowhere to be found not too long afterwards. Still…no evidence, and they still took Carter. I guess the dead man was enough evidence.”
Something about the coming and going of so many people in a short period of time didn’t sit well with Frank. He supposed he could find out which cops had been on the scene and find out why things had been handled so sloppily. It would be as simple as looking back through the report. He also wondered if the only witness had been escorted away for his safety, being that Monty Lincoln was a wealthy white man.
There was too much here that didn’t make sense. On its face, there seemed no be no real mystery involved. But given the statements of Tony and the thin details in the report, he felt there was something deeper. He could only hope that speaking with the other members of the band might clear some of it up.
***
“I know what it looks like,” the singer, a rotund woman known only as Ma, said. She plopped herself down in a chair directly across from Ava. “Just a bunch of colored musicians trying to stand up for their bandmate. Of course we’re going to say Carter didn’t do it. I told Carter not to be scared, that there was no evidence against him. Just a white man claiming to have seen the murder. When they put the bracelets on him, though, he was shaking…almost crying. I just…I can’t believe Carter would do such a thing. It ain’t like him. It’s not in his nature.”
The band had showed up right on time. There were four of them, and their emotions seemed to be split right down the middle. Two of them seemed sad and worried, whereas the other two looked quite angry. All four members of the band were black: the drummer, an older gentleman named Sam; the piano player, a young and stocky man named Henry; a wiry-looking trumpet player named Buster; the vocalist, a gorgeous and rather rotund young woman that everyone simply referred to as Ma. None of them seemed especially nervous or scared that there were two detectives waiting for them. In fact, Ma seemed almost relieved, though she was one of the two who looked angry.
“Just so we understand correctly,” Frank said, “Carter was the only one of you who actually saw what happened?”
“Seems that way,” Buster said.
“But he wouldn’t tell us what happened,” Ma said. “Another thing I know makes him look bad.”
“You’ll have to forgive me on this,” Ava said. “But he was the only one who saw what happened but won’t give details? You understand how bad that seems, right?”
“We do,” Henry said. “And him not saying anything about what really happened is why the cops came down so hard on him.”
“They say that white man was whacked on the head,” Ma said. “There was a big bruise and his skull was cracked…blood coming out the back of his head. But there was nothing on Carter that would have done that. They searched him and found nothing. And there wasn’t anything out there in the alley, either.”
Ava caught the briefest of glances shared between Ma and Henry. It appeared to be rather conspiratorial in nature and made Ava quite certain that they were hiding something. She started to grow very sad that the more she heard, the more it seemed like Carter Epps had indeed killed Monty Lincoln.
“What are you not telling us?” Ava asked, looking at all four of them, one right after the other.
“That’s all of it, the entire story,” Sam, the drummer, said.
“Buster was running late,” Ma said, leaning in with a bit of ire in her expression. “And Carter was out back jawing with what white man. Me, Sam, and Henry, on time and ready to rehearse, were real mad because it just seemed like that particular rehearsal was going to hell. Buster came in and by then, Carter and the white man—Monty Lincoln, as you say—were out there basically yelling at each other. The yelling stopped and when we went out there, we saw Mr. Lincoln just as dead as can be at Carter’s feet.”
Frank eyed Ava with what almost looked like sympathy. He then turned his attention to the members of the band, shaking his head. “You four have to understand just how suspicious that all seems, right?”
“Yeah, I reckon we do,” Ma said. “But those are the facts.”
“Facts that are bad enough for Carter Epps to currently be holed up in a cell,” Ava said. “I’m sorry, guys, but this all looks very—not great. And we’re going to have to speak with him. So if there’s something you’re not telling us…”
Out of the very corner of her eye, she saw Tony’s face shift a bit. He looked…almost relieved. It was very much a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment, but Ava just happened to catch it. She subtly reached out and tapped Frank’s knee as she did her best to keep her attention on the band for a few more seconds.
“You can either tell us what you’re hiding, or we can do the work ourselves,” Frank said. “But it’s going to look a lot better if you just tell us. So…think about it. In the meantime, Tony, would you mind if we had a word in private?”
Any relief that might have been there faded right away, but he nodded. “Yeah, come on back to my office.”
He led them to the right side of the building, where a concave space that could almost be called a hallway gave way to a restroom and a small office. Tony entered the office and, though there was a desk in the back corner, he did not take it.
There was just enough room for the three of them to cram inside. Frank had to basically stand just inside of the doorway.