Chapter 13 The Ringleader

“How’d you do at last night’s game?” Esther asked as I let her into my apartment.

“I won. A lot. And probably made some enemies.”

“Naw. It’s just a game.”

“I’m not so sure,” I said, thinking of the piles of drugs that changed hands. “They seemed quite serious. I wish you hadn’t left me alone there.”

“Jesus doesn’t allow me to gamble.”

“Jesus is probably right on that count.”

 She studied me for a moment. “It was that bad, huh?”

I sighed and gave a little shrug. “I guess it isn’t really my thing. Especially the drugs. But it was definitely an interesting look at the personalities here. Are they all on drugs all the time?”

“Pretty much.” She turned around and took in the living room. “Looks like you’re pretty well settled in.”

“I got the last of my boxes unpacked this morning. Romy was nice enough to hang a few paintings for me.”

“You’ve got some interesting things here. Are they all from when you lived in Africa?”

 “Yes. I couldn’t bring much here. I donated most of what I brought from Africa a museum.”

“I just love this painting over your couch.”

“I painted that from an old photo I took in Ghana, back in the fifties.”

“Get outta here. You did this?”

“It’s a hobby I took up after I retired.”

“Mmmm.” She stepped closer to the painting and peered at it. “Yup, I see your signature right here. L. Reuben. Lady, you got some talent.”

The chardonnay in my fridge was calling to me, but it could wait. I didn’t want to offend Esther’s Baptist sensibilities. “Would you like some tea?”

“You got any peppermint?”

“Sure.”

I put the kettle on and got out the mugs and tea bags. When I looked at Esther again she was in the living room, holding a framed photo she’d picked up from the side table.

“That’s my daughter and grandson.”

Ester gave it a closer look. “I knew your daughter was born and raised in Africa, but I never … Somehow  every time you mentioned her I pictured her as a blonde.”

“My husband was Ghanaian.”

“She’s as black as I am.”

“Her name’s Kamili.”

“Pretty name.”

“She was such a chatterbox when she was little, her nanny called her Chiku. The name stuck and I still call her Chiku today.”

“Her little boy is lighter skinned.”

“Kameron. His father’s white, so he’s just one-fourth African.

“Good looking boy.”

“That’s an old photo. He’s in his twenties now.”

“Your daughter’s beautiful too.”

“Thank you.”

“You see them often?”

I shook my head. “They live in London.”

“They ever come visit?”

“They came together to New York only once. It isn’t such a long flight, really, but Chiku has a very demanding job. She’s head nurse at a large hospital. She let Kameron visit us a few times on his school breaks, but as he got older he had more activities at home and friends he didn’t want to leave.”

Esther set the photo down back on the table, but continued to look at it. “You are a very lucky woman.” She moved to the kitchen and settled her bulk onto a dining chair.

“Do you have kids?” I asked.

“The Lord never blessed me in that way.” She slid the Neighborhood Watch Participation Agreement across the table and studied it. “I can’t believe they all signed up. And every one of them gave you their e-mail and cell number.”

“Everyone but Arnie and Romy.”

Esther barked a humorless laugh. “Arnie probably don’t wanna admit he can’t remember his own contact information. I bet he doesn’t even own a computer. He’d never remember how to use it. And Romy, he’s just too darned lazy to walk more than ten steps.”

“He could use the exercise,” I said, setting two mugs and the sugar bowl on the table. “I noticed the women all waited to see what Tiare would do. It was only after she signed up, the rest of them followed.”

“Tiare’s the ringleader, that’s for sure. No one’s gonna do anything unless she gives it her blessing.”

I filed that bit of information away for future reference. I wanted to tread carefully around my new neighbors.

Esther said, “I’m surprised Tiare picked you for team captain. Usually she wants to be in control of everything.”

“What’s up with that?”

She sipped her tea, pondering. “I don’t know. But I think everyone, including Tiare, is real glad you suggested the Neighborhood Watch.”

“Pearl’s death was a shock. To have someone you know, someone you see every day, murdered … it’s just way too close to home. And to think the killer is still running around out there—we’re all scared.”

“You got that right, sister. But do you really think a bunch of old ladies are gonna find the killer?”

“Probably not. But anything’s better than sitting around waiting to see who’se next.”