Cinnamon Kiss by Walter Mosley Read Free Book Online Page B

prosecute.”
    “Do you accept the task as I have presented it?” he asked in return.
    “I’d like to know where these people live in San Francisco and Berkeley,” I said.
    “Neither of them is in the Bay Area, I can assure you of that,” the little Napoleon said. “Bowers is out of the country and Cargill is in Los Angeles. We’ve tried to contact her family but all attempts have failed.”
    “She might have friends here who know where she went,” I suggested.
    “We are pursuing that avenue, Mr. Rawlins. You are to go to L.A. and search for the girl there.”
    “Girl,” I repeated. “How old is she?”
    Lee glanced at Maya.
    “Early twenties,” the knockout replied.
    “Anything else?” Lee asked.
    “Family?” I said. “Previous address, photograph, distinguishing habits or features?”
    “You’re the best in Los Angeles,” Lee said. “Mr. Lynx assures us of that. Maya will give you any information she deems necessary. Other than that, I’m sure you will find the answers to all of your questions and ours. Do you accept?”
    “Sure,” I said. “Why not? Philomena Cargill also known as Cinnamon, somewhere on the streets of L.A.”
    Robert E. Lee rose from his chair. He turned his back on us and made his way through the hole in the wall. The panel closed behind him.
    I turned to Maya Adamant and said, “That’s one helluva boss you got there.”
    “Shall we go?” was her reply.
     
     
     

• 9 •
     
     
    F irst I want to check something out,” I said. I crossed the room, approaching the small out-of-the-way frame. It was a partially faded daguerreotype-like photograph, imprinted on a pane of glass. It looked to be the detective’s namesake. The general was in full uniform. He had, at some point during the exposure, looked down, maybe at a piece of lint on his magnificent coat. The result was the image of a two-headed man. The more tangible face stared with grim conviction at the lens while the other was peering downward, unaware of history.
    I was intrigued by the antique photograph because of its vulnerability. It was as if the detective wanted to honor the past general in both victory and defeat.
    “Shall we go, Mr. Rawlins?” Maya Adamant said again.
    I realized that she was worried about Lee getting mad if he saw me getting too intimate with his sanctorum.
    “Sure.”
     
     
    IN THE LIBRARY Maya gave me a business card.
    “These are my numbers,” she said, “both at home and at work.”
    Saul had been forgotten. He’d merely been their, or was it her, pipeline to a Watts connection.
    “What’s the disagreement between you and your boss?” I asked.
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “Sure you do. He went through that whole song and dance about getting rid of me because he wanted you to beg him. What’s that all about?”
    “You would be better served, Mr. Rawlins, by using your detecting skills to find Philomena Cargill.”
    There was an almost physical connection between us. It was like we’d known each other in a most fundamental way—so much so that I nearly leaned forward to kiss her. She saw this and moved her head back half an inch. But even then she smiled.
    We went down to the library. I gave her my office phone number.
    “When will you be there?” she asked me.
    “Doesn’t matter.”
    “You have a secretary?”
    “Electronic,” I said, more for her master than for her.
    “I don’t understand.”
    “I got a tape recorder attached to my phone. It records a message and plays it back when I get in.”
     
     
    OUTSIDE THE SUN was dazzling. A cool breeze blew over Nob Hill.
    “What the hell was that all about?” Saul said as soon as we were back at his car.
    “What?”
    “I don’t know. You choose. Making Lee come out to talk to you. Looking at Maya like that.”
    “You got to admit that Miss Adamant is a good-looker.”
    “I have to admit that you need this job.”
    “Listen, Saul. I won’t work for a guy that refuses to meet me