Black and Blue Ch. 03

***

It was all planned to a nicety. She knew that. The fact she would be away from him now for a couple of days while she moved. When she was fertile, when she most wanted and needed him. It was all planned. He knew she wasn't running away, she wasn't going anywhere but closer to him. It would just show her how much she needed this, how much she craved this. How she wouldn't again want to be without it. It only helped a little to know that she would not be denied again. Not until she was in the maternity ward. The Closer knew what he was doing. This wasn't his first time around the block. She couldn't deny him now - even if she wanted to.

Claire's eyes again flicked to her rear-view mirror. Her mind had been elsewhere or she would surely have spotted it before now. A silver Camry. She didn't do what the perps did when you followed them. She didn't speed up. Oh no. She deliberately slowed. Just a few miles an hour but enough that most anyone would overtake her. Except the Camry didn't. Two other vehicles passed her but the Camry just slowed up and kept that regulation distance behind her.

Now she was sure. Well she was 99% sure. Her instincts had not lied to her, That Camry was tailing her and she wanted to know why. She looked back in her mirror but could not make out the other driver. Was it just the darkness or was it more? She had thought before that the screen was tinted, deliberately hiding the driver's identity. She reached under her seat and touched her firearm, reassured by its presence. She knew what she had to do.

There was one last pull-off within the city limits and she took it. Easing down and around a corner before bringing her vehicle to a halt. If the Camry followed her and stopped then she would find out what this was all about. She waited and watched the second hand move round on the vehicle clock. Five whole circuits and the Camry did not make an appearance.

Claire Doyle closed her eyes for a moment and let out a long breath. She would not be sad to stop making these drives in and out. Maybe all that was happening had made her a little crazy, a little paranoid even. It was a relief that her suspicion had turned out to be unfounded after all. She put her vehicle in drive and carefully navigated the streets over to the next available junction. It had cost her a little time and nothing more. She was happy with that outcome.

As she pulled back onto the main road home she did not notice the silver Camry parked in another off-road. A minute after Claire had passed that vehicle its lights were switched on and it drove off back into the city.

***

She hadn't been quite sure what to expect from the moving guys but it turned out that they were professionals. Three men who swiftly and efficiently wrapped up her old life and had it in the back of a truck faster than she would have believed possible.

They were all, as she had suspected, white guys. However, she still sent up a little prayer of thanks that she didn't live too close to any of her colleagues in the PD. Recent events had sharpened her concerns about he possibility of her or the truck being followed. When she left she didn't want anyone from her old life knowing where she had gone. They would believe that she had just burned out. It wasn't as if that was so uncommon in law enforcement.

While the guys were working she had made one last trip into the station. It had all seemed part of a life she had long left behind. The Chief had been regretful but understanding when she had put in her papers. She could tell that he wasn't unduly surprised. Up until recently she had probably been his most reliable Officer but over the last few weeks that had not been the case. When a dam cracked it wasn't so strange if it broke entirely soon afterwards.

She had been surprised by Skeet. She hadn't too often seen him lost for words. His sorrow at the news had been genuine and really quite touching. It took an effort to remember that he was feeling regret for the loss of the old her as a colleague. The new her would not be nearly so welcome around there. She joined them for a last drink at their favorite bar but she already felt more than semi-detached. This was her old life and it was over.

What lay ahead? In all truth she wasn't sure. She had grown up wanting to be a Police Officer. To suddenly not be one should have been a bigger shock than it was. What would she do instead? That should have been her first priority but it wasn't. There were more important things in life.

***

"Hey girl. You coming to see us again? The Closer already sealed the deal?" The young man was smiling confidently.

"Not yet Ty - at least not that I know." It was so matter of fact. Just taken for granted that soon she would be knocked up with Julius Moore's baby. She knew it, the Closer knew it, these young men on the corner knew it. It was going to happen and most everyone knew it. Everyone that counted. But she had a favor to ask.

"Have you all seen a silver Camry around here?"

Ty showed her his hands, their palms held upwards. "Shit girl ain't no shortage of fucking Camrys on the road. Ain't that why you five-oh use them? Kinda to blend in."

"I'm not Police any more - at least my papers have gone in." She could say the words without any regret. "But I know you guys have sharper eyes than anyone on the street. You seen a strange Camry around here?"

"Plate?" Ty was taking her a little more seriously now.

She hadn't really been paying attention the first time. The second time she had but, just like the identity of the driver, the plate had seemed to be obscured by shadow or maybe dirt. "I couldn't make it entirely. It looked like a state plate ending in '450'."

Ty looked at the other men on the corner and then slowly shook his head. "Nah, can't help you there. Ain't seen no strange Camrys round here, silver or not. We'll peep them plates though if you wanting. That right?" The others signalled their agreement.

As she crossed to the familiar ugly building Claire wondered about her conversation on the corner. It had seemed relaxed but had it really been so casual and straight forward? They knew she was no danger to them, there was no way she could ever testify against them. Any information she could provide was pretty weak-sauce. Every Metro Officer passing the corner knew as much as she did.

But she had been five-oh and her instincts were still five-oh. Her papers might be in but that didn't change anything. There was a little bell ringing way back in her consciousness. It wasn't a certainty but it was enough to put her on her guard. She was pretty sure Ty hadn't been lying - why the hell would he - but she wasn't so sure he had told her everything. Maybe he knew that plate or maybe he planned to deal with this himself. Maybe both. She just hoped to God she didn't see that damned Camry again but also that Ty didn't do anything stupid.

"Here she be - just as regular as clock-work! Remembering when you used to deny it - ain't denying it now, soon won't be able to deny it at all. All you white girls is the same." The words dissolved into a burst of laughter.

Claire had been climbing the stairs as she thought about Ty and the Camry. The thoughts could be filed away as she looked up to see Desiree. The older Black woman was observing her with an amused expression.

Answering Desiree never ended well but Claire couldn't resist it. "Why would I deny it."

"Oh!" Desiree's smile only grew. "I'm liking that. Gonna be a problem when your belly don't fit in that nice smart uniform eh Police girl?"

"I've put in my papers - I've quit the force." Why the hell was she telling Desiree that?

"You talking like you proud of it Police-girl, like you proud to ditch the Police and your career for a regular helping of what the Closer is offering. That right girl - you give it all up to be one of his bitches? Like that girl Jean. She was round here yesterday and she starting to show if you know the signs. Just like you will be soon. Just another of the Closer's Bay-Mommas. Like all them that was before and like all them that is coming up after ya. Gave it all up for that?" Desiree cocked her head to one side and nodded.

The older woman's attitude finally got to Claire. "Fuck yeah - that is just exactly what I did, what I am doing! What the fuck do you know? You know anything about me or how my life was? You thinking to shame me! What the fuck do you know?"

She regretted it instantly. Desiree might have the tongue of a harpy but she was still a woman nearer seventy than sixty. Since when did she, Claire Doyle, start yelling at old women?

If she was worried about seeing Desiree cower in fright then she was soon reassured. The old woman just put her head back and laughed, a raucous peal of pure delight. "Yeah, thass right! What the fuck do I know!" She laughed loudly again. "Good to see you got some spirit in you police-girl. Gonna need it when that belly gets good and round. Them babies ain't gonna look like you and when they is here its way too late to be reconsidering. I expect my boy's bitches to raise my grandkids right. You hear?" The old woman's eyes were on Claire's and the laughter was gone as the last two sentences were delivered. A long dark finger, a little crooked with arthritis, jabbed the air in Claire's direction.

"I hear you," Claire said, a little numbed by the altercation. "They'll be raised right."

Desiree pursed her lips and looked intently at Claire for a moment. Finally she gave a little nod and then gestured for Claire to move on.

There were only a few more steps up to the familiar broken door. It was pushed to so she gave a knock on it.

There was no response.

She knocked again.

"What you waiting for girl? You can go in - he be back soon." Desiree's words.

She obeyed them and pushed the door open. She had been here once before on her own. She gave a glance up into the corner but saw no tell-tale red light. The camera was off. Last time her search had been interrupted. She had been into all but one of the rooms. There was another door off the bedroom. Maybe a cupboard but she didn't think so. Instinct again.

Curiosity was a dangerous thing but also a powerful thing. This time she went straight to that door and turned the handle. She somehow expected it to be locked but it opened readily enough, just needing a little oil maybe. There was an old-fashioned light-switch and she used it. Light flooded the small room. Maybe it had once been a cupboard after all.

She stepped inside and immediately saw what the little room was used for. It took a moment to comprehend it, to take it all in. From the top of the walls down to the floor two of the three walls were covered by... trophies. She had her training and she knew that was the word for this.

Pinned to the walls were rows and rows of women's panties. Written above each was a first name and next to each was a photograph. Each showed a woman with an infant. The hair-styles and fashions and slightly faded nature of some of the photographs told that this had been going on for twenty, maybe thirty, years. Each photograph was different but each was also the same. A young white woman with her infant child. The child was hers but in almost every case it was immediately obvious that the father was Black. Hardly a surprise - she knew already who the father was.

Her eyes traced the rows, saw the faces. Followed them through to the most recent additions. The last two photos were different. One showed a heavily-pregnant white woman. The last showed a familiar face. Jean Butler, smiling broadly, holding up the little plastic object so that the camera could pick out the relevant details. The lines that indicated pregnancy.

Trophies. She had learned about them when they had done a course on serial killers. The old-time big game hunters had kept trophies of animals they had shot. Now lots of sick fucks kept trophies of their murder victims. This was related but also as far apart from that as it could be. These were trophies of life and not death. Life given by Julius Moore, proof that he had closed the deal.

"Open the drawer there."

Claire controlled the instinct to jump about six feet in the air. She hadn't heard a damned thing. How could a big man move so quietly? Or had it just been that she was so wrapped up in her discovery. In the faces, the mothers and the children. In the expression on Jean's face. Joy, triumph, achievement, satisfaction. It was all there, all obvious in a way she knew that she had never felt.

"Take the girl out of the five-oh but you can't take the five-oh outta the girl." Julius gave a little laugh to himself. "Generally I show my bitches this place but I figured it might be more fun to leave you alone. Had an idea you'd go straight to it."

Not for the first time Claire Doyle had the clear realisation that she had been played. The Closer always seemed a few moves ahead, always seemed to know what she would think and what she would do. That would have infuriated the old Claire. However, now it just seemed the way it was. Julius Moore was an amazing man. She guessed that he pretty much always got what he wanted. They didn't call him the Closer for nothing.

The only furniture in the small room was an old bedside table taking up most of the very limited floor space. She took hold of the handle and gently pulled. As the draw opened it revealed what she had suspected that it would. A pair of panties, her panties. Taken from her by Jean and Julius on a day that wasn't so many weeks ago but seemed a lifetime away.

With them were a pen, small hammer and a pack of tacks.

He didn't need to instruct her. She knew how this worked. She took her panties and one of the small tacks. She carefully judged the appropriate position next to Jean's photograph and then very carefully tapped the tack through her panties and into the wall. Once the tack was all the way home she stepped back a little. Then she took the pen and carefully wrote 'Claire' above her panties. It wasn't the first 'Claire' in that room, there was a 'Clare' too. It stood to reason. There had to be close to a hundred pair of panties, close to a hundred photographs, close to a hundred stories just like hers.

Now she stepped back properly and checked out her work, It looked right but the gap next to it needed to be filled. Her photograph needed to be there. Just like Jean's, then like the woman next to her, finally like the rest of the women. It was what she needed to do, what the Closer would allow her to do and to be. She let out a long breath.

"Yeah - you feeling it ain't you baby. Don't you worry girl we'll soon seal the deal. Make you my bitch, the Black man's bitch, for good and for keeps. You know Rules Nine and Ten?"

He knew she didn't. Those rules still hadn't been revealed to her. She shook her head.

He led her back into the bedroom "Yeah, that's right my little five-oh bitch. Well I'll tell you one of them in five minutes. Depending on this." Julius Moore reached into his pocket and produced a small box. He tossed it across to her.

She caught it and looked at it. A pregnancy test.

***

The driver's eyes were on the rear-view mirror. Checking out the building, the open space, the corner. The Camry had been made and so today it was a different vehicle. The driver was satisfied with what had been seen. Soon Claire would emerge and then it would be child's play to tail her to her destination. Not that the driver didn't know where that was. It was pretty clear just who Claire Doyle was now, just who she had become. It would soon be time to take a hand in this game.