Monument to Murder by Margaret Truman Read Free Book Online Page B

her.”
    “Cops aren’t usually that gullible.”
    “I’m not gullible, Wanda. The detective who took the confession didn’t believe it either.”
    “She got herself killed,” Wanda said matter-of-factly.
    “Not long after she got out of prison. She did four years.”
    “Gunned down as I remember.”
    “That’s right, in broad daylight. She was alone on the street. The cops say it was a random drive-by shooting. I say she was a target.”
    They were interrupted by two young women, one black, one white, who walked in without knocking. They eyed Brixton suspiciously.
    “What’s up?” Wanda asked them.
    “Betty’s making trouble again,” one said.
    “Is she?” said Wanda. “You tell Miss Betty that she’d best shape up or she’ll be answerin’ to me. You got that?”
    They laughed and left.
    “A couple of your saves?” Brixton asked.
    “Uh-huh. You can take them off the street all right, but it’s harder to take the street out of ’em.”
    “I imagine.”
    “You were saying about Louise getting gunned down. Let me tell you what I remember about Louise Watkins. Like I said on the phone, she was just a confused little puppy, didn’t have what it took to turn tricks. It’s a hard business, you know, takes a certain kind of woman to survive it. Probably best she was sent down. I don’t think she would have lasted long as a hooker, probably have gotten herself cut up or worse by some pervert.”
    “Did you and she talk much?” he asked.
    Wanda shook her head, which sent her red hat into motion. “Just once or twice. I remember once after she’d been busted. Might have been her first time only I can’t be sure. Anyways, she told me that she loved her momma and didn’t want to hurt her, only she already was hurtin’ her. She was drugged up that time. Damn drugs. She was pretty heavy into it, selling, too.”
    “Louise Watkins was a drug dealer?”
    “Minor league stuff, Mr. Brixton. She peddled pot, some coke, nothing big time. She used to hang around Augie’s, sell to some of the teenyboppers who hung out there, too. Mostly white, girls and guys whose mommies and daddies never believed their precious kids were using. I told Louise to knock it off, told her that they’d take her down hard if she got busted dealing junk.”
    “Did she listen to you?”
    “Probably not. I was just another whore handing out advice.”
    “She should have listened to you.”
    “Most don’t, but enough do to make it worthwhile.”
    “Did Louise have friends?” he asked.
    “I suppose. She wasn’t out on the street long enough to get close to other hookers, but she hung around with some people at Augie’s.” She snorted. “Friends? They were only friends as long as she had junk to sell. There are no friends in that world, Mr. Brixton.”
    “Did you know her when she confessed to the stabbing and was sentenced? I mean, were you in Savannah at that time?”
    “Sure I was.”
    “What’d you hear on the street about it?”
    “Not much. Shame she got nailed. Too bad it happened. The smart thinking was that she was turning a trick in the parking lot, he got pissed about something, put some muscle on her, and she poked him. Didn’t she claim that he tried to rape her?”
    “That’s right.”
    “That doesn’t make any sense, no need to rape a hooker unless you’re broke and want it for nothing.”
    “That’s the way I see it, too.”
    The time passed quickly and they talked until one, when she excused herself to keep another appointment. She walked him out to the reception area, where she pointed to a large glass bowl with the sign DONATIONS . He smiled, extracted a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet, and dropped it into the bowl.
    “Thanks,” she said. “You let me know how things turn out.”
    “I will, and thanks for seeing me. Keep up the good work.”
    “Oh, no fear of me stopping what I’m doing,” she said. “Long as there be men there be hookers to save.”
    As he got into his car he