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Sam Douglas is a former military man who served in Air Force Intelligence all over the world including several combat and Cold War stations. He is now a freelance writer living in the southern US with his wife of over 40 years. His work has appeared in print publications such as Short Stuff, Futures Mystery Anthology Magazine, Bibliophilos, and The Rocking Chair Reader and online in Espresso Fiction, Cyber Oasis, Monthly Short Stories, and Reflection's Edge, among others.

A Debt Of Honor by Sam Douglas

"Johnathan Andrew Brown. One of yours?"

"Yeah, he's mine. What did he do now?" Parole Officer Rai Danford knew the answer wouldn't be anything he wanted to hear. Anytime you got a call from Ballentine City PD about one of your people, it was always bad.

"Well, Rai, what he did was get himself killed." The caller was Sergeant Matt Macauley. Rai had worked with him on a couple of cases before. "Got any idea who'd want to off him?"

Rai thought a minute about Johnny Brown. He was a user, of course, just about all Rai's clients were users. Brown was off and on also a small-time dealer. He was always into something small-time—shoplifting, petty theft, soliciting. Trouble was he wasn't very good at any of them. Most people saw him as a joke, a criminal wannabe who just didn't have the talent for it. Rai didn't know anybody who'd want to kill him."

"No, Matt, 'fraid not," he said. "The guy was a pain in the tail, but too insignificant for anybody to want him dead. He was probably just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"I've got mixed emotions about this case anyway," said Macauley. "It doesn't bother me that we've got one less lowlife on the streets, so I'm not all fired up about working on his murder. But if I solve it, I get another lowlife off the streets. Either way, I'm going to have to go through the motions, so I'll have to see your file on him. Then you can close it out, cut down on your workload."

"It doesn't work that way, Matt. For every file I close, they give me two more. But just let me know when you want to see this one."

"Okay, maybe I'll stop by your office sometime this week."

After he hung up, Rai tried to focus on Johnny Brown. He was one of those guys who drifted through life without making too big an effort or resisting too many urges. In a different environment, he would be harmless, gliding along untouched by the world. It didn't usually work that way on the mean streets of south Ballentine. You couldn't be completely uninvolved. Guys like Johnny tried to stay low key enough to stay out of big trouble. That didn't always work.

Rai wondered again why he'd gotten into this business. Ten years ago, young and naive, he brought his social work degree to the Parole and Probation Department thinking he could do some good, thinking he could help somebody like Johnny Brown live a happy and productive life. Now he just considered himself lucky that he hadn't said those words out loud among his fellow POs. He'd have been laughed out of the office.

The intercom interrupted his soul searching. "Rai, call for you on line two. She wouldn't give her name, but it sounds like a young girl."

"Okay, Mary, thanks." Rai reached for the phone, telling himself he ought to be thinking more about Mary, the receptionist and the only other single person in the office, and less about the Johnny Browns of the world. "Agent Danford," he said into the phone.

"Mr. Danford, this is Latiesha Brown. I'm Johnny Brown's sister, and I need to talk to you."

Rai remembered Latiesha Brown. He'd seen her during his home visitations on Johnny. She was a pretty girl, slender and dark, maybe 12 or 13. She had seemed shy and inhibited when he'd been in the apartment she and Johnny shared with their aunt, their dead father's sister.

"I heard what happened to your brother," Rai said into the phone. "I'm real sorry about that, but I don't know why you need to talk to me. If you want to talk about Johnny now, you need to talk to the police."

"No, no, Mr. Danford, I don't want to talk to the police. My brother always told me that if anything happened to him, I should call you. He said you're the only one I could count on to help."

Jeez, thought Rai, why in the world would Johnny Brown say a thing like that? Out loud he asked, "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"I just wanted to tell you that Johnny was trying real hard to stay out of trouble this time. He told me he was going to straighten out his life and we were going to have it good from now on."

"Well, that's nice, Latiesha, but not very significant now."

"But, Mr. Danford, I think some of the people down here wanted Johnny to do things and he wouldn't do them, so they killed him."

"What kind of things did they want him to do?"

"Sell drugs and deliver drugs. I think they wanted him to get me to sell drugs at my school, too."

"Why do you think that?"

"Just some of the things Johnny said. He talked about bad people in the world. He told me not to talk to any strangers, especially men around my school."

"How old are you, Latiesha?"

"I'm 14, and I think they use people even younger than me to do this stuff."

"Do you know who was trying to get Johnny to sell drugs?"

"I think it was Rafer Young. Johnny talked about him a lot." Rai wondered why Johnny hadn't talked to him about Rafer Young. The name meant nothing to him.

"Did you ever see Johnny talking to this Rafer Young or hear anything they talked about?"

"No, Johnny just told me to stay away from Rafer Young."

"Okay, Latiesha, I'll look into it and see if there's any way we can tie Young to Johnny. But I agree with your brother, you stay away from Rafer Young."

Rai called Macauley and told him what Latiesha had said. Macauley didn't seem particularly impressed. "Frankly, Rai," he said, "when anything happens in that part of town, Rafer Young is usually involved one way or another. But I don't see him bothering himself with a minor player like Johnny Brown. It wouldn't be worth the risk."

"But you'll talk to him, won't you?"

"Oh, I'll definitely talk to him. I always talk to him when anything happens down there. Tell you what, I'll call you and let you know what he said. Okay?"

"Great. Thanks, Matt."

Rai waited for a couple of days and Macauley didn't call. Latiesha Brown did call. She just wanted to know someone was doing something about her brother's murder. Rai couldn't answer her questions, so he called Macauley again.

"I know you said you'd let me know when you talked to Rafer Young, but Johnny Brown's sister has been bugging me. Is there anything new on his murder?"

"Rai! I was just getting ready to call you. I did talk to Rafer Young about Johnny Brown. He wasn't able to tell me anything though. He said he didn't know Johnny very well, but he heard that he was just a punk. He said some other punk probably killed him."

"But he didn't know who?"

"He said it could have been anybody, no way to tell. Oh, but I also talked to a couple of my snitches about Rafer and Johnny. They didn't know anything about the murder, but they both said that Rafer is branching out. He's not just peddling drugs now. He's peddling girls, too."

"Prostitution?"

"Yeah. He's signing up local girls, cleaning them up, and contracting them out uptown. My guys say it's taking off pretty good. But none of that has anything to do with Johnny Brown's murder. I'm sort of at a dead end on that. I guess the next thing I need to do is look at your records and see if there's a lead in there. I'll try to get around to that as soon as I have a little time. I'll call you."

Sure you will, thought Rai as he hung up the phone. He felt that he should call Latiesha Brown even though he had nothing new to tell her. Before he could pick up the phone, the intercom rang. Mary said there was a Mrs. May Brown on the line for him, "Says she's Johnny Brown's aunt."

"Hi, Mrs. Brown," Rai remembered that she used the Mrs. title even though she'd never been married, "this is Rai Danford."

"Oh, hello, Mr. Danford. Latiesha told me she talked to you cause Johnny said you were somebody she could trust. Now I'm worried about her and thought maybe you could help. She just left here, and I'm not sure she wanted to go. Some boys came for her. She said they were taking her to see Mr. Rafer Young. She said he might know something about what happened to Johnny. But I think she's afraid of Rafer Young. I don't think she'd go see him 'less they made her."

"Do you know exactly where she was going, Mrs. Brown?" asked Rai.

"No. She just said these boys were going to take her to see Mr. Young."

As soon as he hung up, Rai called Macauley and told him about Latiesha. Macauley wasn't overly concerned. "We don't have any reason to think anything is wrong," he said, "and I'm kind of tied up here right now."

"Okay, Matt," said Rai, "but could you just tell me where I might find Rafer Young?"

"He makes his headquarters in a back room behind the Soul Spot. That's a club on Anderson Street."

"Yeah, I know where it is," said Rai.

"You'd better be careful if you're going in there. They don't welcome visitors."

"I'll make it a nice friendly visit," said Rai as he hung up the phone.

It was early evening when he got to the Soul Spot, too early for there to be a big crowd but late enough for the fading light to provide some cover. Rai parked his unmarked state car in the alley down the block, hoping it would still be there when he needed it later.

He walked back to the Soul Spot, hugging the wall and trying to make himself very small. He turned into the alley beside the club and made his way around back. He tried the back door and grimaced as it creaked open. He paused a moment to see if he'd drawn any attention, then stepped inside. He was at the end of an unlit hallway that he guessed led to the bar. On the right were two doorways marked as restrooms. On the left were two unmarked doorways. Rai eased up to the first and pressed his ear against it. Nothing. He tried the knob. Locked. He moved to the next door and tried that knob. It turned. Slowly he opened it just a crack. He strained to hear any sound from inside the room. He heard voices and moved his ear a little closer to the opening.

"Look, I'm sorry, Latiesha. I don't want to hurt you, but you're coming to work for me, like it or not. You ought to be happy. You're going to make a lot of money."

"I told you, Mr. Young, I never done nothing like that before. I don't know how, and I don't want to."

"Yeah, you told me already. We've been through it a dozen times. The only reason I keep talking is because I like you. I don't want to hurt you, but my patience is wearing thin. You're 14 already. I'll bet most of the girls you know have already been doing this stuff for a long time, so it's no big deal. Innocence like yours is worth a lot of money. Some men I know will pay good for a baby face, and they'll pay even more if they think they're your first. We can sell that first time over and over. You just have to do your part."

"But I don't know what to do, and I don't want to do it."

"I'll teach you what to do, and you'll learn to like it. Everybody does." There was a pause, and then the voice continued a little more intense. "I'm really running out of patience. We're just wasting time. It's too bad your brother got himself killed. He was going to help me bring you into the business. It would be a lot easier if he were here to help you get started."

"I don't believe that," said Latiesha. "My brother warned me to stay away from you."

"He did that because he wanted to be sure he got his cut. If I brought you in without his help, he wouldn't get anything out of it. So he wanted to make sure that didn't happen."

"You killed Johnny! You killed my brother," said Latiesha.

"Nope, 'fraid not, little girl. I wanted him around to help me with you. Like I said, you're worth money to me."

Rai heard movement from beyond the door. He slipped his .38 police special from its holster on his belt. The department didn't issue weapons to POs, but most of the guys, and a few of the women, carried them. The voice behind the door continued. "Besides that, your brother owed me for all the favors I did for him in the past. That's a debt of honor. He can't pay me now. Now it's up to you to make things right." The voice became lower. "We're going to do this, Latiesha, and we're going to start right now. Just to let you see how easy it is, I'm going to be your first."

Rai heard the sounds of a struggle. The girl cried out for help.

"Nobody's going to help you, Latiesha. Just relax and make it easy on yourself." The sound of a grunt and a slap followed.

Rai pushed the door open and stared over his pistol into the room. Right in front of him was an old government surplus desk with a couple of straight metal chairs in front of it. To the left was a faded, threadbare couch which apparently had once been red and was now a dull brown. Sobbing on the couch was Latiesha, lying on her side with her skirt pushed up. Standing over her was a tall, slim black man who looked slick and greasy like the pimps in old genre films. When he saw Rai, the man stopped fumbling with his belt and lunged toward the desk. He ripped open a side drawer and jerked out a revolver which he raised toward Rai. Rai squeezed off a single round that caught the man in the center of his chest and knocked him backwards. Rai walked quickly to the desk and peered over it, his gun poised. But the tall, slim man lay still. His gun had fallen between the desk and the couch.

Latiesha sat up, pushing down her skirt and reaching for the gun. "Don't touch the gun," Rai shouted. He heard a sound from behind him, from the doorway. He whirled and found six or eight men bunched around the door, peering in. He grabbed his shield from his pocket and thrust it toward them in his left hand while his right hand leveled his gun on them. "This is police business, gentlemen," Rai said. "I'd suggest that you not interfere."

The man in front raised his hands and slowly backed out the door. The men behind him gave way and they all disappeared.

By the time the police arrived in response to Rai's 911 call, the club was empty. Sergeant Macauley was the first officer to arrive. Rai was a little surprised that he could fit it into his busy schedule. But he was very efficient at the crime scene. He took Rai's gun and a quick statement and allowed him to drive Latiesha home.

When Rai dropped her off in front of her building, Latiesha turned her baby face to him and said, "Thank you, Mr. Danford. Thank you for my brother. I think he'll be able to sleep much better now."

Rai thought the innocence of that statement made her appear even younger than her years. He looked into her trusting young eyes and wondered how people like Rafer Young could exploit such children. "I'm more concerned about how well you'll sleep, Latiesha," he said. He walked her up the steps to her apartment.

Latiesha's aunt met them at the door. She wrapped her arms around Latiesha and said, "Honey, I'm so glad you alright. I was so afraid they were gonna hurt you."

"Thanks to Mr. Danford they didn't," said Latiesha. "Thanks to him, too, the person who killed Johnny is dead."

"What?" said Mrs. Brown. "Who killed Johnny?"

"Rafer Young killed Johnny, Aunty May, and Mr. Danford killed Rafer," said Latiesha.

A little hesitantly, Mrs. Brown said, "Well, anybody want to hurt my baby deserves to die." Then she turned to Rai and said in a much lower voice, barely a whisper, "Anybody!"

The intensity of that last word stayed with Rai as he drove back to the office. Why did Mrs. Brown find it necessary to emphasize that so strongly? Another nagging thought kept interfering with what should be his sense of having done a good thing today. He had saved a young girl from being raped and pimped out, but he still couldn't shake the feeling that Rafer Young was telling the truth when he said he didn't kill Johnny. Why should he lie about that under the circumstances?

The next morning, Rai called Latiesha and asked her to come to the office to help him fill out a report of the incident. When she arrived, he told her that he needed some background information. "Latiesha, some of the questions I need to ask you may seem unrelated to what happened yesterday, but I need the information to give me a full picture for the police. Okay?"

"Sure, Mr. Danford, I'll tell you anything you need to know."

"Well, one thing they're going to want to know is whether you had any kind of weapon you could have taken with you to Rafer's place. So do you or your aunt have a gun?"

Latiesha hesitated then asked, "Can my aunt get into trouble if she has a gun—I mean just for our protection?"

"As long as she didn't use the gun, I don't think she can get into trouble," said Rai. "But the police are going to want to know one way or another. If she has one and doesn't tell them, it'll be worse for her."

"Okay, well, she used to have a little gun for protection. You know how it is down there. I guess she still has it, but I haven't seen it lately."

"Latiesha, I need to see that gun, to see if it's legal or not. You think you can show it to me, maybe sometime when your aunt isn't around. I don't think we should worry her until we know there's a problem."

"I hate to sneak around behind her back," Latiesha said, "but if you think it's best, I can show you the gun this afternoon. My aunt has an appointment at the clinic.”

Rai took Latiesha to lunch at the Burger King across from his office. Then he drove her back to south Ballentine to her apartment. Latiesha unlocked the door and called out, "Aunty May, are you home?" There was no answer. Latiesha led Rai down a short hall to a back bedroom. "This is my aunt's bedroom," she said. "The gun used to be in her nightstand."

Latiesha opened the drawer to the nightstand and revealed a small, silver pistol. She reached for it, but Rai stopped her. "We don't want your fingerprints on the gun until we know it won't figure in the case," he said. He used his handkerchief to gingerly extract the gun so he could get a closer look. It was an Italian-made .22 automatic, a classic Saturday night special. "Latiesha, I think I need to take this gun and run some tests to be sure it's clean, that it doesn't have any kind of a history. That's for your aunt's protection. You tell her I've got the gun, and she can call me if she wants to talk about it."

The gun was the same caliber that had killed Johnny. Rai knew forensics could tell him if it was the gun that killed Johnny and probably even who used it. He wondered if he wanted to know that. Mrs. Brown's whispered "anybody" kept running through his mind.

Rai waited for Mrs. Brown to call about her gun. She didn't call. After a week, he cleaned it up, took the harbor tour, and dropped it over the rail halfway across.

THE END