“LOOKIT, SONEJI didn’t have no friends in here. He didn’t need nobody. Man had a guest in his attic. Know what I mean? Only talked to me when he wanted something.”

“What kind of things did you do for Soneji?” I asked.

“Soneji had simple needs. Cigars, fuck-books, mustard for his Froot Loops. He paid to keep certain individuals away. Soneji always had money.”

I thought about that. Who gave Gary Soneji money while he was in Lorton? It wouldn’t have come from his wife-at least I didn’t think so. His grandfather was still alive in New Jersey. Maybe the money had come from his grandfather. He had only one friend that I knew of, but that had been way back when he was a teenager.

Jamal Autry continued his bigmouthed spiel. “Check it out, man. Protection Gary bought from me was good-the best. Best anybody could do in here.”

“I’m not sure I follow you,” I said. “Spell it out for me, Jamal. I want all the details.”

“You can protect some of the people some of the time. That’s all it is. There was another prisoner here, name of Shareef Thomas. Real crazy nigger, originally from New York City. Ran with two other crazy niggers-Goofy and Coco Loco. Shareef’s out now, but when he inside, Shareef did whatever the hell he wanted. Only way you control Shareef, you cap him. Twice, just to make sure.”

Autry was getting interesting. He definitely had something to trade. “What was Gary Soneji’s connection with Shareef?” I asked.

“Soneji tried to cap Shareef. Paid the money. But Shareef was smart. Shareef was lucky, too.”

“Why did Soneji want to kill Shareef Thomas?”

Autry stared at me with his cold eyes. “We have a deal, right? I get privileges for this?”

“You have my full attention, Jamal. I’m here, I’m listening to you. Tell me what happened between Shareef Thomas and Soneji.”

“Soneji wanted to kill Shareef ’cause Shareef was fuckin’ him. Not just one time either. He wanted Gary to know he was the man. He was the one man even crazier than Soneji in here.”

I shook my head and leaned forward to listen. He had my attention, but something wasn’t tracking for me. “ Gary was separated from the prison population. Maximum security. How the hell did Thomas get to him?”

“Gah-damn, I told you, things get done in here. Things always get done. Don’t be fooled what you hear on the outside, man. That’s the way it is, way it’s always been.”

I stared into Autry’s eyes. “So you took Soneji’s money for protection, and Shareef Thomas got to him anyway? There’s more, isn’t there?”

I sensed that Autry was relishing his own punch line, or maybe he just liked having the power over me.

“There’s more, yeah. Shareef gave Gary Soneji the Fever. Soneji has the bug, man. He’s dying. Your old friend Gary Soneji is dying. He got the message from God.”

The news hit me like a sucker punch. I didn’t let it show, didn’t give away any advantage, but Jamal Autry had just made some sense of everything Soneji had done so far. He had also shaken me to the quick. Soneji has the Fever. He has AIDS. Gary Soneji is dying. He has nothing to lose anymore.

Was Autry telling the truth or not? Big question, important question.

I shook my head. “I don’t believe you, Autry. Why the hell should I?” I said.

He looked offended, which was part of his act. “Believe what you want. But you ought to believe. Gary got the message to me in here. Gary contacted me this week, two days ago. Gary let me know he has the Fever.”

We had come full circle. Autry knew that he had me from the minute he walked into the room. Now I got to hear the punch line of his joke-the one he’d promised at the start. First, though, I had to be his straight man for a little while longer.

“Why? Why would he tell you he’s dying?” I played my part.

“Soneji said you’d come here asking questions. He knew you were coming. He knows you, man-better than you know him. Soneji wanted me to give you the message personally. He gave me the message, just for you. He said to tell you that.”

Jamal Autry smiled his crooked smile again. “What do you say now, Dr. Cross? You get what you come here for?”

I had what I needed all right. Gary Soneji was dying. He wanted me to follow him into hell. He was on a rampage with nothing to lose, nothing to fear from anyone.

WHEN I got home from Lorton Prison I called Christine Johnson. I needed to see her. I needed to get away from the case. I held my breath as I asked her to dinner at Georgia Brown’s on McPherson Square. She surprised me-she said yes.

Still on pins and needles, but kind of liking the feeling, I showed up at her place with a single red rose. Christine smiled beautifully, took the rose and put it in water as if it were an expensive arrangement.

She was wearing a gray calf-length skirt and a matching soft gray V-necked blouse. She looked stunning again. We talked about our respective days on the drive to the restaurant. I liked her day a lot better than mine.

We were hungry, and started with hot buttermilk biscuits slathered with peach butter. The day was definitely improving. Christine ordered Carolina shrimp and grits. I got the Carolina Perlau-red rice, thick chunks of duck, shrimp, and sausage.

“No one has given me a rose in a long time,” she told me. “I love that you thought to do that.”

“You’re being too nice to me tonight,” I said as we started to eat.

She tilted her head to one side and looked at me from an odd angle. She did that now and again. “Why do you say that I’m being too nice?”

“Well, you can tell I’m not exactly the best company tonight. It’s what you’re afraid of, isn’t it? That I can’t turn off my job.”

She took a sip of wine. Shook her head. Finally she smiled, and the smile was so down-to-earth. “You’re so honest. But you have a good sense of humor about it. Actually, I hadn’t noticed that you weren’t operating at one hundred and ten percent.”

“I’ve been distant and into myself all night,” I said. “The kids say I get twilight zoned.”

She laughed and rolled her eyes. “Stop it, stop it. You are the least into-yourself man I think I’ve ever met. I’m having a very nice time here. I was planning on a bowl of Sugar Puffs for my dinner at home.”

“Sugar Puffs and milk are good. Curl up in bed with a movie or book. Nothing wrong with that.”

“That was my plan. I finally gave in and started The Horse Whisperer. I’m glad you called and spoiled it for me, took me out of my own twilight zone.”

“You must really think I’m crazy,” Christine said and smiled a little later during dinner. “Lawdy, Miss Clawdy, I believe I am crazy.”

I laughed. “For going out with me? Absolutely crazy.”

“No, for telling you I didn’t think we should see each other, and now late dinner at Georgia Brown’s. Forsaking my Sugar Puffs and Horse Whisperer.”

I looked into her eyes, and I wanted to stay right there for a very long time, at least until Georgia Brown’s asked us to leave. “What happened? What changed?” I asked.

“I stopped being afraid,” she said, “Well, almost stopped. But I’m getting there.”

“Yeah, maybe we both are. I was afraid, too.”

“That’s nice to hear. I’m glad you told me. I couldn’t imagine that you get afraid.”

I drove Christine home from Georgia Brown’s around midnight. As we rode on the John Hansen Highway, all I could think about was touching her hair, stroking the side of her cheek, maybe a few other things. Yes, definitely a few other things.

I walked Christine to her front door and I could hardly breathe. Again. My hand was lightly on her elbow. She had her house key clasped in her hand.

I could smell her perfume. She told me it was called Gardenia Passion, and I liked it a lot. Our shoes softly scraped the cement.