Detective Read Free Page B

and
Fourteenth Street he spotted two
drug dealers, known to him by their
street names, Big Nick and Shorty
Spudman. There was an arrest warrant
out for Shorty on an aggravated
assault charge, a felony.
    Jorge was quickly out of the car,
followed by Ainslie. As the
detectives approached from either
side, cutting off any escape, Nick
was stuffing something into his
pants. He looked up casually.
    Jorge set the tone. "Hey, Nick,
how's it going?"
    The response was wary. "Okay, what
it is, man."
    The druggies and detectives eyed
each other. They all knew that if
the police of fleers exercised their
right to stop and frisk, they would
find drugs, perhaps weapons, in
which case the dealers, both with
lengthy records, could face long
prison terms.
    Jorge asked Shorty Spudman, who
was five feet two and pockmarked
"You hear about that German tourist
murdered yesterday?"
    "Heard on TV. Them punks doing
shit to tourists people, they some
real bad dudes."
    "So there's talk on the street?"
    "Some."
    Ainslie picked up the exchange.
"You guys can help yourself out if
you give us names."
    The invitation was clear: Let's
make a deal. As Homicide detectives
saw it, solving a murder took
priority over most everything else.
In return for information, lesser
    DETECTIVE 19
    crimes would be ignored even an
arrest warrant.
    But Big Nick insisted, "Ain't
knowin' no fuckin' names."
    Jorge motioned to the car. "Then
we'd all better take a ride to the
station." At Police Headquarters, as
Nick and Shorty knew, a full-body
search would be obligatory, and the
arrest warrant could not be
overlooked.
    "Hold it!" Shorty offered. "Heard a
couple whores say last night there
was a honky shot an' two dudes took
his car."
    Jorge: "Did the girls see it happen?"
    Shorty shrugged. "Maybe."
    "Give with their names."
    "Ernestine Smart and one they call
Flame."
    "Where can we find them?"
    "Ernestine's sleepin' at River an'
Three. Dunno 'bout Flame."
    Jorge said, "You're talking the
homeless camp at Third and North
River?"
    "Yeah."
    "If you've given us shit," Jorge
told the pair, "we'll come back and
find you. If it turns out okay, we
owe you."
    Jorge and Ainslie returned to their
car. Locating one of the prostitutes
took another hour.
    The Third Street homeless camp was
under I-95 and alongside the Miami
River. Originally it had been a down-
town parking area, and dozens of
parking meters, unused, stood
incongruously among countless
cardboard packing cases and other
flimsy shelters assembled from
discarded junk the whole crude,
filthy mess resembling a hellhole in
some fifth-rate country. Amid it all,
human beings lived desperate,
degraded lives. In and around the
encampment, garbage was everywhere.
Jorge and Ainslie left their car
    20 Arthur Halley
    cautiously, knowing that at any
moment they could step in a pile of
excrement.
    Ernestine Smart and Flame, they
learned, jointly occupied a plywood
box that, according to stencil
marks, once had contained truck
tires. It was now located on the
river side of the former parking
lot. A door had been cut in the box.
It was padlocked on the outside.
    Jorge and Ainslie moved on.
Driving to "whore country" Biscayne
Boulevard and Northeast Eighth
Street, Biscayne and Eleventh, East
Flagler and Third Avenue they
questioned a few daytime
prostitutes, asking about Ernestine
and Flame. Neither had been seen
that day, and eventually the
detectives returned to the homeless
shelters.
    This time they found the roughly
cut door of Ernestine and Flame's
plywood box unlocked and open. Jorge
put his head into the dark interior.
    "Hey, Ernestine. It's your
friendly neighborhood cop. How's
tricks?"
    A husky voice came back. "If I had
more I wouldn't be livin' in this
pigpen. You wanna fuck, copper? For
you it's bargain day."
    "Damn! Just can't take the time;
got a murder to solve. Word on the
street is you and Flame saw it."
    From the interior gloom, Ernestine
peered out. Jorge guessed she was
about twenty, despite the jaded
attitude of a woman