Private Dick Casefile 01 - Lily White Rose Red

table into a neat pile.
    “I heard this belongs to you.” I held out the pendant on the palm of my hand.

    Lily White, Rose Red: Grey Randall, Private Dick Casefile #1
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    He sat up, and his face became animated for the first time since I’d known him, but he stayed cautious. “Looks like one I used to have.
    Where did you get it?”
    “I found it. In a dame’s place.”
    “No fucking way.”
    “Yeah, I heard you weren’t much for the broads.”
    “People will say anything.” He shrugged, but it was too late to play it cool. I’d seen how his eyes lit up, and his fingers were twitching with the need to snatch it out of my hand.
    “People are saying you gave it to her.”
    “I didn’t! I told you, I lost it.”
    He hadn’t actually told me that, but Reggie had. I guess both of them wanted to believe that real bad. I shook my head and gave him a nasty smile. “Next you’ll be telling me that bad men broke into your house while you were asleep and stole it.”
    “Look, the person who gave me that—let’s just say I never would have given it to her —no matter what happened between us,” he stammered.
    I laughed. “You need a vacation. I didn’t even give you the name of the chippy.”
    “She wasn’t a chippy. She was a nice girl! Maybe a little—” He shut up when he realized I’d tricked him.
    “I didn’t even mention who we’re talking about, so how do you know she was pure as the driven snow?”
    “Look, man.” He ran his hands through his curls. “I’m no stoolie.”
    “Who’re you trying to protect?”
    “It’s not that.” He bent forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and covered his face with his hands.
    I waited. I had a feeling he needed to tell someone what was going on.
    “It was the day after she was killed.”

    148

    CATT FORD

    “Marguerite Saint-Ville?”
    “Yeah. Cops pulled me in, said I was speeding. One mile over the limit.” He gave me a bitter smile. “What that really means is keep off the white streets, nigger. They cuff me and take me downtown. So far, business as usual. That’s when it went off the rails.
    “Captain Woods, he comes into the interrogation room, lets his boys get in a little workout on me. Then he lifts the necklace and pockets it. Says it’s more suited to a woman.”
    “And you thought he was sweating you because you’re queer?” Jazz gave me a hard look, but he didn’t deny the accusation. “A—
    former friend of mine had recently given it to me. That—friend is a cop. I thought Woods was onto us. What else could I do?” I nodded, feeling a little bitter myself. I’d seen enough of it in the service. Queer is bad enough. Queer and black? Might as well just sign your own death warrant and save them the trouble. “Then what?”
    “He let me go.”
    I could hear how surprised he still was. “What did you think he was going to do?”
    “Take me for a long walk in the desert, maybe not alone,” Jazz said. “Big Billy doesn’t like niggers much, he comes over to the north side for ‘sport’ now and again. Plays the music to watch us dance.” I’d seen that done before, shoot at a fella’s feet to keep him tapping. “So, you didn’t check with your ‘friend’ about all this?” Jazz stood up and turned around, tugging his shirt out of his pants and holding it up so I could see. His back was a mess of fading bruises and welts. “Think I want to advertise this?”
    “My God,” I breathed, forgetting all about being hard-boiled. I wanted to punch someone bad, and it wasn’t Jazz. “Big Billy?”
    “Not personally.” He tucked himself in and sat down again. I noticed for the first time how he kept from leaning against the back of the chair. “He just sat in to enjoy the floor show.” I was in danger of getting lost in the side issues. Not that what happened to Jazz wasn’t important, but I couldn’t quite see how this Lily White, Rose Red: Grey Randall, Private Dick Casefile #1
    149

    tied in with the case. And even worse, I had no idea how to fix it. “So this Saint-Ville frail, did you have a thing for her?”
    “You ever meet her?”
    “Not alive.”
    Jazz shook his head. “You nailed it, I admit it. I’m queer, but I never met a woman like her before. She was… so alive. Fascinating.
    Sometimes there was a flash in her eyes…. It was like she had me in a spell or something. And best of all, we both loved music. That’s what we’d talk about. I didn’t even realize she wanted me until