Page 8 of Death in the New Year

“She was a reader,” he said, pointing to the stack of romance novels in the corner. “Or someone was.”

“She was,” said a deep voice at the door. “Does the Reverend know you’re here?”

“Yes, sir. We’re trying to find Matilda and who killed Imelda.”

“I see,” he nodded. “Well, both ladies were ‘bout as nice as they could be. Matilda, she was real young. Maybe twenty-three, twenty-four. Sweet girl. Never cared that I smelled sometimes. She would sit with me in the hallway and talk to me for hours.”

Both men stared at one another then back at the other man.

“Talk to you for hours? Did she talk about anything in particular?” asked Pork.

“Just stuff,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

“The Reverend said she didn’t like to talk much. Sorry, that just caught us by surprise,” said Code.

“She wasn’t a talker with everyone. She was afraid of her own shadow and real careful about what she said to folks,” he chuckled. “I think she knew we was kindred spirits, like they say.”

“How so?” asked Code.

“I was a bouncer at a club.” The two men looked at the old man suspiciously. “Not recent-like. Ten, fifteen years ago. I was strong, real strong. One night, this man comes in with a bunch of friends and starts harassin’ the girls. I don’t stand for that, so I asked him to leave. He decided not to, and I decided to help him.”

“You killed him?” asked Pork.

“Not that night,” he frowned. “No. I just got him out of there. Next night, him and his buddies decided they was gonna be waitin’ for me. Pumped me with so much heroin they didn’t think I’d make it. Some days, I wish I hadn’t. But I did. Fought that bitch for years. I’d get clean, and then something in me would trigger, and I would need it again somethin’ awful. That’s when the Reverend found me. Got me into rehab and let me stay here. Now, I do maintenance around the church.”

“What does that have to do with Matilda?” asked Code.

“She was a dancer in a club in Atlanta. Topless. Dancin’ one night, and this man starts to reach for her. Turns out he was one of them VIP fellas. He dragged her to a room, was gonna rape her, I s’pose. Beat the hell out of her, but she kept her wits about her. Grabbed a champagne bottle and hit him over the head with it. Killed him.”

“Do you think they found her?” asked Pork.

“Nah, ain’t nobody lookin’ for people like us in a rundown church in New Orleans,” he laughed, shakin’ his head. “No, I ‘spect she decided it was time to move on.”

“Do you really believe that?” asked Code.

The old man stared at them, then looked around the small space that Matilda had once occupied.

“Not a chance in hell.”

CHAPTER SIX

“Excuse me, ma’am,” said Gabe. “Are you Shirley?”

“Yes. Are you the police?” she asked, trying to sit up a little. She immediately turned green, and Gabe raced for the bedpan, almost certain that the woman would vomit everywhere. Shirley waved him off, shaking her head.

“It’s okay. I’ll learn my lesson one day. I can’t move that fast or I get sick. I’m sorry, did you answer me? Are you the police?”

“No, ma’am. We are not the police, but we are trying to find who killed Imelda. We’re friends of Barry’s.”

“Oh, Barry. He’s such a sweet young man. We’re all so proud of how far he’s come. He’s a great success story.”

“Yes, ma’am, he is. We’ve known him almost his entire life. My name is Gabe, and this is my brother, Pierre.”

“Nice to meet you both,” she said. “I’d get up, but I’m not sure that’s a good idea. My mother was here with me, but she took a taxi home to get me a few more things I needed. I guess I’m going to be here a few more days. She’s old as the hills, but right now, she’s in better shape than I am.”

“Yes, ma’am. We understand that. Shirley, the Reverend said that you and Imelda were arguing that morning, the morning before her death. What was it about?” asked Pierre. She dabbed her eyes, slowly shaking her head.

“It was so stupid. We were both tired from having to cover for Matilda, our bookkeeper slash office manager slash girl Friday,” she grinned. “She up and disappeared a few weeks back. Anyway, Imelda is, was, the church secretary, and I run the choir. I just wanted some help getting the hymnals put out. We’d been racing around the church, trying to get things just perfect for the service. She wanted to get home to her family for Christmas morning because she has a daughter. I should have been more understanding. She has a daughter, a young woman who won’t have her mother now.”

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