Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Poppy Hannah Mystery Excerpt

Here's an excerpt from my first Poppy Hannah mystery.  Poppy is a paralegal who likes to solve mysteries.

Copyright, Jana l. Shellman

 

PROLOGUE

I can't tell you how I know, I just know. It's the same thing as when the phone rings. If the person calling is someone I'm acquainted with, then I automatically know who's on the phone before I answer it. If it's a stranger, I have no idea who's calling. I don't know how that works either. I just know if a person is guilty, I know it. If a person is innocent, I know that too. It's a gift, or a curse, depending on whether you listen to me or my boss.

I'm a para-legal and I work for Ralph Taylor, attorney at law. My favorite television program is the old Perry Mason, my second favorite show is Law & Order. I was destined to work in the legal profession, I was born on Abraham Lincoln's birthday.

Then on top of that I've got this quirk. I can't stand an innocent person being in jail. My name is Poppy Hannah, how I got that name is another story. First I want to tell you about Henry Brown.

I'd driven my Mustang convertible to the office and just had time to dry my hair. It's red. My hair, not the convertible, that's white. Naturally curly, the hair. It's a fright when it gets wet. Both the hair and the car. It had been raining for days. Convertibles are for sunny days. They don't always keep you completely dry and then this morning it wouldn't start. I looked like Bozo the clown. I spent nearly half an hour drying my hair, and trying to comb it into some semblance of normalcy so as not to frighten anyone, but what I got were two very fuzzy red pony tails sticking straight out above my ears. It was the best I could do. I was minding the front desk until our receptionist, Kara got in. She was always late. That's when Henry Brown's mother came into the office.

"I need to find my boy a lawyer."

"What did he do, Mrs. uh..."

"Brown. He didn't do nuthin'!"

"Why do you require a lawyer?"

"My boy wouldn't 'a killed nobody." For emphasis the large black woman thumped her wet umbrella on top of the computer monitor. A waterfall cascaded down the flat screen, like too many tears. Mrs. Brown’s aura was lavender.

"I'm sure you're right, Mrs. Brown."I brushed the umbrella gently from my machine.

"He didn't have no call to be in that neighborhood." This time the desk top received the emphasis from the umbrella.

"I can understand why you believe in him Mrs. Brown." Pulling two tissues from the box in rapid succession I wiped the rainwater tears from the screen and the desk.

"I've just gotta get him out a jail right away. He's innocent." Three rapid blows of the umbrella resounded on the side of the wooden desk.

"Everything will be all right. I'm sure Mr. Taylor can help you." As I gave her these reassurances, Mrs. Brown relaxed visibly. Her stern face broke into a shy smile, and she looked down as if to apologize for being so pushy. The smile fled as Mr. Taylor came rushing down the hallway like water after a dam collapse.

"What's all that knocking? Who can I help? What's going on?" Mr. Taylor is six foot one, and about two hundred pounds. He can look scary, unless you know him. He's really a teddy bear.

"I was just telling Mrs. Brown that you'd be happy to represent her son at his arraignment this afternoon."

"I have a golf game this afternoon."

"It's raining. Besides, I'm rearranging our schedule. You'll still be able to tee off at 2:30, just like you planned." I indicated the calendar on the monitor. He leaned over my back and looked at it.

"That's fine. But when am I supposed to eat? And when am I going to have time to shop for my wife's birthday present?"

"I'll order a sandwich," I reached under Kara's desk for my tote bag and brought out a brightly wrapped package. "and here's the gift you're giving to your wife."

"What is it?"

"It's the bracelet she was admiring at Wolfe's the other day."

"How much did it cost me?"

"You don't really want to know."

Muttering to himself he disappeared back into his office.

"He doesn't sound too excited about defending my Henry."

"He's a low-key sort of guy. You've hired yourself the best lawyer in town." At the word "hired" she began to worry about money. I spent ten minutes reassuring her that it could all be arranged very comfortably.

She left and I had to figure out what to tell the boss. He didn't believe in my powers. He just knew I was always getting him clients he didn't want to defend.

Kara finally arrived, shaking her curly blond hair, and smoothing her tight dress over her perfect body. She described how helpless she'd felt when her car wouldn't start, and how five guys huddled around her engine until they solved the problem.

"Aren't men just wonderful? What would we do without them?" she gushed, as she fluttered her eyelashes. Her dark brown eyes belied her hair color, but I wasn't about to point it out to anyone. I figure you should know yourself. It doesn't matter what anyone else believes to be true about you, so long as you know the truth.

I'm really not a feminist. I just believe in being independent, and honest. I don't believe any woman can be as fragile and as dependent as Kara puts on. I have to admit that she takes the dumb blond jokes really well, and basically I like her. She's a sweet girl. And really not dumb. Just kind of ditzy sometimes. And I'd be the last person in the world to hold any eccentricities against her.

I called the prosecutor's office to get a run down on the charges against Henry Brown. Fort Wayne was once named All America City. Then a Detroit auto manufacturer opened a facility here. Since that time crime has escalated. Drug dealings and murder have mushroomed. The prosecutor's office is still struggling to catch up. They're doing a good job of it, but they're a growing family.

The phone rang. I knew it was my friend, Prudy, who works at the Prosecutor's Office. "What do you know about Henry Brown?"

"He's guilty Poppy. It's cut and dried. There was an eye witness."

"Somebody actually saw him commit murder?"

"No, but just as bad." said Prudy.

Prudy went on to fill me in. He'd been identified by an eye witness who said he'd been seen coming out of the alley minutes before the knifed body of a small-time drug dealer was found. Sounded cut and dried. But Henry's mom said Henry couldn't have done it, and I knew she was right. Don't ask me how. That's the hard part. I had to figure out how I knew it. I had to prove Henry was innocent.

We made a date to brown bag in my office. Prudy would bring a copy of the probable cause affidavit on her lunch hour.

"Poppy. Come into my office. I must speak to you. Immediately."

Oh boy. Here we go. "What can I do for you?" I asked.

"Poppy. You've just got to stop accepting these hopeless cases. At least allow me to determine whether or not I'll take one on."

"I was sure you'd want to defend Henry."

"I don't know anything about Henry. For all I know he could be an axe murderer."

"You won't disappoint his mother?" I whined, I'm ashamed to say.

"I should let you disappoint his mother. I should just put my foot down and refuse to defend him."

"That means you're going to defend him, doesn't it?"

"Lord help me. I suppose it does...but this is the last time young lady. Now listen to me. None of that giggling...I mean it. The last time..." The bright red spikes in his aura faded into his normal calm blue. I sighed with relief.

"Here are my notes. I talked to Prudy. She gave me a rundown."

"What time is the arraignment?"

****

The boss got Henry out on bail. Mrs. Brown had to put her house up. They came back from Court and they went into Mr. Taylor's office. I was trying to decide whether to listen at the door or try to turn the intercom on when the boss called me on the intercom and told me to bring my pad. I grabbed it and started for the door. It occurred to me that it would be better to get everything on tape, so I grabbed a mini-tape from the desk drawer and breezed into the boss's office. I put the tape in the dictation machine and turned it on. I'm not sure he noticed. He dictated a quick letter to the prosecutor's office, asking for their witness list, and then he dismissed me. I left the room, sneaking a look back at the blinking red light on the machine, indicating it was still recording. I prayed it wouldn't run out of tape and set off the beeper. My boss sometimes likes to keep things from me, but how can I help prove Henry's innocent if I don't know everything?

At 2:20 I buzzed him. He had to be at the club in ten minutes.

"Maybe I can help interview Mr. Brown."

"Yeah, sure. Anything you can do," he didn't know what he was saying. He was already at the tee, even though he was only dashing out the door, searching through his coat pockets for his keys. I retrieved them from the desk where he'd dropped them this morning and dashed toward the elevator with them. I glanced out the window on the way in and saw a rainbow off to the West. God was smiling on Mr. Taylor today.

I told Kara to hold my calls, and went back to Mr. Taylor's office and sat down across from Henry Brown. The thought that I was alone in an office with a suspected murderer flitted across my mind. More quickly than that I reminded myself that Henry's Mom said he was innocent. I relaxed.

Henry Brown was a very big man. He must have been all of six and a half feettall, and he probably weighed three hundred and fifty pounds. He didn't look like he had a lot of fat, either. He was mostly muscle. Henry Brown wouldn't have had to shoot anyone. He could have picked them up and squeezed them dead. For all of that he was very graceful when he walked, and he spoke in a soft and polite manner. Besides, his aura was nearly white it was so light blue. He had a spiritual soul.

"Okay Henry. Just have faith. Fill me in. Let's start from the beginning..."

"I wasn't near that alley, ma'am. I fell asleep in my truck over on the other side of town." While he talked I removed the tape and put in a new one. I dropped the old tape into my shirt pocket.

The phone rang. "That will be your mother, Henry."

I answered the phone. It was Mrs. Brown. I assured her we had Henry right there in the office. She asked me to keep him there until she could come and claim him. Henry was thirty-five years old. Big enough to find his own way home. But if I was a mother, I'd want to keep track of my son if he was in trouble, so I agreed to keep him there until she arrived.

Before Mrs. Brown arrived, we had time to go over a lot of the points. Henry hadn't been acquainted with the man who was killed, but he knew his name. He had heard rumors that the man was a small time crack cocaine pusher. He didn't think he was into anything more than that. He figured he was probably one of the little guys who dealt to the high school kids in his neighborhood, but Henry’d been busy working, trying to get himself and his mother out of that neighborhood. He didn't go to the bars, and he didn't drink. He claimed never to associate with those kind of people. He was very quiet, and very shy. He shook his head from time to time, as if he wondered why, after being so careful, he still found himself in this trouble.

He swore he'd never done drugs, "My mama woulda killed me, if I'd ever got into that."

After they left I packed up my tapes and headed out the door. The phone rang.

"That's my mother, take a message." I told Kara. I knew she was calling to tell me my Avon order was in. She's an Avon Lady. Well, since I knew who it was and why she was calling, I struggled into my raincoat and waved at Kara as she answered the phone. I patted my skirt pocket to check on the tapes. They were still there. When I'm onto something my scalp gets tight. It was getting tighter all the time. I wish I knew why.

****

It took me a little over eight minutes to get home during rush hour. One of the perks of being in the legal profession in Fort Wayne is that most law offices are clustered around the Courthouse downtown, just blocks from the older residential neighborhoods.

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