Kansas City Noir by Steve Paul

Author:Steve Paul [Paul, Steve]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Suspense, ebook, book
ISBN: 9781617751288
Publisher: akashic books
Published: 2012-10-02T04:00:00+00:00

* * *

Weeks went by quietly. The heat grew worse and worse. Scotty called on weekends, and they danced around each other, unable to get back to their old relationship and unsure what relationship they had now. Another little victory for Mrs. Clark, James supposed. She had returned to her front-yard athletic phone conversations. She was always fully clothed, however, so Derrick had made some kind of impact.

On a heat-danger Friday, James took the mail from the mailman and sat on a weeding bench to look through it. He found a summons to housing court. He could pay a $210 fine, or he could show up in court to try to fight the accusation of a nuisance yard. He could even go to jail.

James sat with the paper in his lap for a long time. He was seventy years old. He could call the TV stations and let the city arrest him on camera. How would that look?

Mrs. Clark’s voice snagged his attention. On her damned cell phone. James turned toward the sound and found his fist clenching. He wanted to do just what Derrick Kappell had done. He wanted to march up to her and bellow and make her shake with fear. But how likely was that?

James read through the summons again, including all the fine print. That was where he found out they were going to bring in contractors to mow down his garden and charge him large fees to pay for it. It was like telling him they were going to execute him and bill him in advance for the headsman. Celeste’s garden. Clear-cut to the ground. His hands shook, and the paper rattled.

He sat in the sun and heat for hours, full of rage and mourning, until he was light-headed. Until a plan formed in his mind.

He took his car from the garage. Scotty wanted James to dump the old Taurus but it had everything he needed. He couldn’t turn to Scotty. No, James had to follow his own plan.

He drove around trying to find a working pay phone, somewhere beyond the neighborhood. Finally, he spotted a fairly secluded phone over in Kansas, near a white folks’ tennis club.

He put in his money and dialed 311, the city call center. Holding his handkerchief over the mouthpiece of the phone and making his voice as high-pitched and feminine as he could, James made an anonymous complaint about Derrick Kappell’s unlicensed car and about the unrepaired wooden steps to Derrick’s screened porch.

He hung up quickly, feeling sick to his stomach. When he got home, he was so dizzy from the heat that he went inside and slept restlessly until the next morning.

The dangerous heat wave stuck around. James only ventured into the garden in the early morning and late evening. Even Mrs. Clark reserved her outdoor phone promenades for those cooler hours. The weekend came and went.

Late Wednesday afternoon, James heard shouting and arguing coming from Derrick’s house. He saw Derrick leave when some of his gang picked him up.

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