“Four sons,” said Rhonda, “and no man. I’m not complainin. The boys had two different fathers, but neither one of them was what you’d call a family man. I showed the first one the door, and when the second one couldn’t be true I told him to go out the same way. I don’t get a penny from either of them to this day and I wouldn’t take it if it was offered to me. I ain’t sayin my boys wouldn’t have been better off with a good man around the house, but we didn’t have that option. It was hard, I’m not gonna lie. It’s been a struggle and it’ll continue to be, but we’re doing all right. We’re gonna be fine.
“You look at me, Darcia, and I know what you see. Middle-aged woman with a little bit of belly on her and clothes from JCPenney. Bags under my eyes and flat shoes. I haven’t been to a nice restaurant in five years and I can’t tell you when I last went to a real party. Wasn’t too long ago I looked something like you. I had it, too. In the eighties they used to send me undercover into clubs where the big drug boys were throwin down. I’m talking about the R Street Crew, Mr. Edmond, all of ’em, ’cause the brass knew young men with money would want to talk to me. I walk down the street today, I’m lucky to get a second look. That’s how fast it goes away, darling. And then what you got?
“I’ll tell you. You got the people you love and who love you back. I look at my sons and I don’t regret a minute of the time I spent with them. I don’t even mind the way I look in the mirror, ’cause I know it don’t mean all that much in the end. My purpose wasn’t this job or the paycheck or anything you can buy. It was raising my family. Knowing they ain’t never gonna leave me in their hearts. You understand what I’m sayin?”
“Go ahead, Rhonda,” said Ramone, watching the monitor.
“You got an opportunity to step off this road you’re on,” said Rhonda. “Get yourself cleaned up and start raising your baby right, your own self. Like your good mother and father did for you. Back up off of those type of men you been with and start new. We can help. We got this witness security program where we put you in an apartment, away from where you been. We’ll set you up.”
“I don’t know anything,” said Darcia. The ash had lengthened on her cigarette. She had stopped smoking it and she had yet to tap it off.
“How you gonna protect that man? He’s in another interrogation room right now, schemin you.”
“No he isn’t.”
“Shoot. You think you’re his bottom baby? Fancy man tells that to Shaylene and every other young girl he fuckin and robbin. Don’t you know that? And now he’s in there sayin that it was you had the idea to kill Jamal.”
“That’s not true.”
“True or no, that’s how he’s gonna testify. He might have pulled the trigger, but he’ll get the lesser charge if the premeditation was comin from you.”
“I didn’t want to hurt Jamal. Why would I?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
“Jamal was good.”
“Tell me, Darcia. You can. You’re no killer. You got the same good in your eyes I saw in your mother’s. The law gonna charge you with accessory to a murder, and you’re gonna do real time behind it, and for what? You didn’t hurt nobody. You couldn’t. I know this.”
A tear broke free from Darcia’s right eye and rolled down her cheek.
“Talk to me,” said Rhonda. “I can’t help you unless you do. I know you’re tired of where you’re at. Isn’t that right?”
Darcia nodded.
“Tell it,” said Rhonda.
Darcia crushed her cigarette out in the ashtray. She watched the smoke curl up off the foil.
“Jamal brought me a rose that night,” said Darcia. “That’s all he did wrong.”
“And what happened then?”
“I was talking to him at the bar, and Dominique saw him give it to me. It wasn’t like Dominique was jealous or nothin like that. But he knew that Jamal and me…”
“Jamal wasn’t a customer. He was your boyfriend.”
“I wouldn’t let Jamal give me money. That’s what set Dominique off. I ain’t even think of Jamal like that. He was nice.”
“Did Jamal and Dominique have words in the Twilight?”
“Dominique was tryin to punk him. Jamal stood his ground, which only made things worse. Then Jamal tipped on out. I knew the bus lines he rode and the way he walked home. Dominique made me tell him, and he made me come along. I was scared not to. I didn’t think Dominique was gonna hurt him bad. I thought he might try and rough him some, but nothing like what he did. In the back of my mind I thought I could stop him if I was there.”
“Did Dominique Lyons shoot Jamal White?”
“He rolled up on him at Third and Madison, on the park side. Dominique got out of his Lex and shot Jamal three times.”
“Darcia, this is a very important question. I know the doorman pats everyone down for weapons when you go in that place. So it’s unlikely that Dominique was strapped inside the Twilight. Did he have a gun in his car?”
“No.”
“No, what?”
“He didn’t have no gun at that time. When we left out the Twilight, he drove to see this man. The man he met sold him a gun.”
“That night?”
“Yes.”
“Shit,” said Ramone, in the darkness of the monitor room.
“Looks like Dominique wasn’t your shooter,” said Antonelli.
Ramone said nothing and rubbed at his face. The door opened, and Detective Eugene Hornsby, rumpled and in ill-matched clothes, stood in the frame.
“Garloo’s pulling into the parking lot, Gus,” said Hornsby. “He says he needs to speak with you right now. He’s got something to show you. For some reason he wants you to come outside.”
“Motherfucker,” said Ramone, getting quickly out of his seat, extreme agitation on his face.
“Shoot the piano player,” said Hornsby. “Not me.”