CHAPTER FIVE

“Thank you for letting us look at the records,” said Code, nodding at the Reverend.

“Of course. Anything to help, but I’m not sure you’ll find anything in there on Matilda. I promised that I wouldn’t pry about her real name or where she’d come from. When she arrived here, she was beaten pretty severely. She refused to go to a hospital and wanted to stay just a few days. We have three small emergency apartments upstairs. They’re not much,” he said, shaking his head, “but when you have nothing, they’re the Ritz.”

“I understand,” nodded Code.

“Do you believe her name was really Matilda Smith?” asked Pork. The Reverend took in a deep breath and shook his head.

“No. In fact, I know it wasn’t. She didn’t tell me her real name, just that it would be a good idea if I didn’t know. I convinced her that we had to come up with something. She said she liked the kids’ movie, Matilda , and that’s where we landed. We didn’t get very creative on the last name.”

“Smith is a fine last name,” smiled Pork. “You said she was beaten. Did she say anything about that?”

“No. Not a word. I brought out the first-aid kit and stitched two head wounds, reset a broken finger, and gave her some over-the-counter anti-inflammatories and pain meds. That’s all I had. She lay in that bed upstairs for weeks. Shirley or Imelda would go up and give her lunch, talk to her for a while, until she finally decided to come down one day.”

“Why do you think she suddenly came downstairs?” asked Pork.

“I’m not sure. Maybe she thought whoever was looking for her wasn’t going to show up after all. The more she came down, the more she wanted to help out. She was good with accounting, great at paying the bills, that sort of thing.”

“You trusted her with your funds?” frowned Code. The Reverend laughed, shaking his head.

“Yes, son. I trusted her. We don’t have a lot. Just enough to pay our bills, and that’s about it. Anything she would have taken would have barely covered a bus ticket, which I would have gladly given her anyway. And before you ask, nothing was missing when she disappeared.”

“Is her room being used now?” asked Code.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m ashamed to say it, but I haven’t even had time to clean it yet. It’s up the steps and the first one on the left.”

The two men nodded, taking the stairs to the second floor of the small church. As it turned out, the second floor was nothing more than an attic space that had been converted to storage rooms. Later, it appeared that someone added a toilet and sink, and there appeared to be a community shower in the hallway. Small window units were in place for air-conditioning and based on their power, they were just enough to keep the second-floor tenants from melting in the summer heat.

Code slowly opened the door and caught the faint smell of a woman’s perfume. It was barely there, but he knew a woman had been in the room. The bed was still unmade, even some of her clothes sitting on the floor.

“Looks like she left in a hurry,” said Pork.

“Yeah, but she did leave us something valuable,” he said, leaning over the pillow. He pulled a plastic bag from his pocket and, with a pair of tweezers, picked up three long brown hairs. He carefully put them in the bag and sealed it.

“I’ll be damned,” muttered Pork. “I’ll bag the clothes as well.”

“She was a reader,” he said, pointing to the stack of romance novels in the corner. “Or someone was.”

“She was,” said a deep voice at the door. “Does the Reverend know you’re here?”

“Yes, sir. We’re trying to find Matilda and who killed Imelda.”

“I see,” he nodded. “Well, both ladies were ‘bout as nice as they could be. Matilda, she was real young. Maybe twenty-three, twenty-four. Sweet girl. Never cared that I smelled sometimes. She would sit with me in the hallway and talk to me for hours.”

Both men stared at one another then back at the other man.

“Talk to you for hours? Did she talk about anything in particular?” asked Pork.

“Just stuff,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

“The Reverend said she didn’t like to talk much. Sorry, that just caught us by surprise,” said Code.

“She wasn’t a talker with everyone. She was afraid of her own shadow and real careful about what she said to folks,” he chuckled. “I think she knew we was kindred spirits, like they say.”

“How so?” asked Code.

“I was a bouncer at a club.” The two men looked at the old man suspiciously. “Not recent-like. Ten, fifteen years ago. I was strong, real strong. One night, this man comes in with a bunch of friends and starts harassin’ the girls. I don’t stand for that, so I asked him to leave. He decided not to, and I decided to help him.”

“You killed him?” asked Pork.

“Not that night,” he frowned. “No. I just got him out of there. Next night, him and his buddies decided they was gonna be waitin’ for me. Pumped me with so much heroin they didn’t think I’d make it. Some days, I wish I hadn’t. But I did. Fought that bitch for years. I’d get clean, and then something in me would trigger, and I would need it again somethin’ awful. That’s when the Reverend found me. Got me into rehab and let me stay here. Now, I do maintenance around the church.”

“What does that have to do with Matilda?” asked Code.

“She was a dancer in a club in Atlanta. Topless. Dancin’ one night, and this man starts to reach for her. Turns out he was one of them VIP fellas. He dragged her to a room, was gonna rape her, I s’pose. Beat the hell out of her, but she kept her wits about her. Grabbed a champagne bottle and hit him over the head with it. Killed him.”

“Do you think they found her?” asked Pork.

“Nah, ain’t nobody lookin’ for people like us in a rundown church in New Orleans,” he laughed, shakin’ his head. “No, I ‘spect she decided it was time to move on.”

“Do you really believe that?” asked Code.

The old man stared at them, then looked around the small space that Matilda had once occupied.

“Not a chance in hell.”