The Mystery of Chad Harris: Fate Delivers Us, Chapter Eighteen
 
 

George burst into a big smile and looked at Chad. His smile grew wider and wider.

" What?", Chad said.

" We caught the break I’ve been looking for."

" What break?"

" This!", George said, showing the audiocassette.

" George, I think I'm as confused as Chad.", TC said.

George motioned for them all to sit down, which they did.

" Chad, I told you that we needed to catch a break. We have. From what Crystal said in her note to you, this is a tape of your mother."

" Yeah. The voice of a singer over 25 years ago? You consider this a good thing?"

" Absolutely.  This is the first solid clue we've ever had. The first substantive link to your mother. Chad, I need to take this tape back to Washington with me. I'll be back in around a week. I'm going to have travel arrangements made for you to Boston. We'll meet there in a week. "

" Boston?"

" Yes. Sam, that is where all your shady characters in Crystal's life came from, right?"

" Yep. There were a few in New Orleans, but, in the timeframe we're talking about with regards to Chad, it was Boston. "

George nods. " Then Boston it is. " George looks at his watch. " Well, I've got enough time to swing by and say goodbye to my mother, and take the last plane out for Washington. Chad, I'll be in touch."

They said their goodbyes to George. Once he was gone, Chad turned to Sam and asked: " Chief Bennett, do you believe Mr. A? Do you think that the tape is a good clue?"

" I don't know Chad. But, I know that George must have some sort of a plan. And, that he's the best at what he does. …….well, it's time for me to go too. Thanks for the dinner, and TC, we'll talk later."

" Sure Sam. I'll walk you out. "

Chad, Whitney and Simone were sitting around.

" Chad, do you think that the tape can help?", Simone asked.

" I dunno. I think so. But, damn.."

" What is it, Chad?", TC asked, walking back into the room.

" Mr. A wants me to meet him down in Boston. I gotta find a way to get there."

" Nonsense. I'll get you a ticket."

" Coach Russell, I'm not a mooch. I can't take anymore charity from you."

" This isn't charity, Chad. This is a friend helping another friend. "

" Thanks, Coach. I think I'm going to try and do a shift at the Book Café tonight. I know what you've said about the money, but, I still insist on paying my own way. " Chad leaves the Russell House.

Once they were alone, TC turned to his daughters: " Girls, you know that your mother still has a problem with Chad. So, why don't we keep what happened here tonight to ourselves. There's no need for her to know that George wants to meet Chad in Boston. She's not that interested in Chad's search, so let's not annoy her with the details…OK?"

" Ok, Daddy. I don't know what Mom has against Chad, but, I'll keep quiet in order to help him.", Simone said.

" Me too, Daddy."

" That's my girls. Your mother will come around when it comes to Chad. I know she will. But, we can't push it. "

Simone and Whitney went up to their rooms, and TC got online to check out prices for tickets to Boston for Chad.
 
 

One week later:

" Chad! Over here!"

Chad looked around to see George Alexopoulos waving to him. Chad picked up his dufflebag and went towards the car. He put the bag and his backpack on the backseat and got in the car.

" Thanks for picking me up, Mr. A."

" No problem, Chad. So, you ready to do some old-fashioned detective work?"

" More than ready."

" OK, well, I have a guy whose going to join us for lunch. Have you even been to Boston before?"

" No. Only the bus station, on my way to Harmony."

" It's a nice city. I thought we would go to the restaurant first. Unless you need to go to the hotel?"

" Nope. I just wanna get on it."

George smiled. " Good. "

George put on his CD.

Chad smiled. " Miles Davis."

" Yep. He was the best."

" Absolutely."

The two of them enjoyed the music until George stopped the car in front of a restaurant. From the look of things, Chad realized that they were in Chinatown. George took out his briefcase, and Chad followed him into this small, non-descript restaurant front.

" Mister George! How are you?", The man greeted George with a deep handshake and a smile.

" I'm fine, Chen. This is a friend of mine, Chad Harris. Chad, this is Chen Kim."

" Nice to meet you, Mr. Harris.", he says taking Chad's hand.

" Nice to meet you, Mr. Kim."

" Got my room ready?", George asked.

" Sure ." Chen led George and Chad upstairs. It was a converted housing units. In the earlier days, Chad was sure that the store owners lived up there, and had the store downstairs. But, now, they were little private dining rooms. Theirs was complete with a big round booth. It was oversized, but, extremely comfortable. George and Chad sat town in the booth, and a young woman came in.

" George. This is Lin. She'll be waiting on you."

" Thanks Chen. You'll send the other party up?"

" As soon as they arrive. "

George looked at Chad. " You want anything to drink?"

" Sure. A coke."

" You trust me to order?"

" Yeah, Mr. A. You ' Da Man'. "

George turns to Lin, and begins to rattle off their order in perfect Mandarin. Chad was surprised. She smiled as she left the room.

" Where did you learn Chinese?"

" I was part of the Asian Organized Crime Unit at the Bureau. Mr. Kim is a friend I met along the way."

" I get it."

George opens his briefcase and brings out some CD's, a portable CD player with speakers, and puts it on the table, as well as a legal tablet.

" You've been pretty patient Chad. I guess you've been wondering why I'm so happy about the tape from Crystal. I should tell you that I took it to a friend of mine who does audio for major record companies, and he cleaned it up, and took away all the other noise, and made new cassettes, and some CD's for me. That is what's in the CD player. "

" You're right. I didn't see anything to be happy about. It's a recording of one woman, from over 20 years ago."

" True. To you and to me. But, to others, it is a vocal fingerprint."

The waitress returned with their drinks, some tea, and the beginning of the appetizers. Once she left, Chad took a bite into his spring roll, and said, " Vocal Fingerprint?"

" Yep. 10 years ago, I wouldn't have thought that this tape was anything special. But, then, I was assigned to an art thievery case, in conjunction with Interpol. And, what I learned there changed my thinking about  cases like this. Once I was finished with that case, everything that I learned there, I can apply here. Just switch art for music, and it's the same deal.

Chad, how many people do you think live in Boston?"

" An few hundred thousand?"

" Try eight hundred thousand. Now, how many do you think are Black?"

" Don't know."

" Well, let's just take the statistical average: 12%. Crystal told you that your mother is Black, which immediately allows us to exclude 88% of the population in Boston. Then, we're looking for a female, which cuts it in half.

Now, we hit the jackpot with what KIND of singer your mother was. Nothing modern. She was singing Jazz and Blues, because how else would she and Crystal have met. And, it's on the tape, which is nothing but 'Old School' - Billie Holiday, Sarah Vaughn, some Bessie Smith. Not a modern tune to be found for that day, or anything that would have been sung in those days. Nothing.

The type of music she sang cuts down our search considerably. How many places do you think she would have been able to sing at during that time?"

Suddenly, it dawns on Chad. " Not many, I guess."

" Nope. A handful of clubs. I don't think that to say we won't be looking at more than 10 clubs isn't an exaggeration. "

" But, they don't have a picture of her."

" I know. We have something better - the CD. When I called it a vocal fingerprint, I meant it. To people myself, that like music, it would just be a tape. But, to others, who have made music their lives, they can distinguish between voices. And, they might forget a name. But, they never forget a voice. And, THEY should be able to put a face with the voice. "

George looks up to see a tall, burly Black man coming into the room. He gets up and gives the guy a bear hug.

" Well, Georgie, you old sonuvabitch. How are you?"

" Good, Jack." He brought the man over to the table. " Chad, this is Sylvester Davis."

" Everyone calls me Jack."

" Ok, Jack. Nice to meet you.", Chad says, extending his hand. Jack settled into the booth, with Chad moving over to be in between the men. The waitress took his drink order, as she delivered the second set of appetizers.

" Got something that I want you to listen to.", George says, playing the CD. He lets it play for a few minutes before turning it off.

" George, you trying to break into the music biz? I didn't know Maggie could sing."

" She can't. It's for a case. First impressions of the voice?"

" Terrific potential. Needs a little bit of singing lessons, but, it's the real thing for sure. Phrasing is very distinctive, and the range is awesome. That 'scat ' session that she did, was terrific. So, who is she?"

" That's what I was hoping you could tell me."

The waitress brought back Jack's drink, and he sipped on it, as George began explaining.

" She was a singer, here in Boston, 20 - 25 years ago."

" That's ALL you have to go on?"

" Well, outside of the type of music, and the name of one of her old cronies, that's about it. "

" Well, damn, George, why don't you just ask me to give you needle to find in a haystack. That would be easier."

" Come on, Jack. I thought you could help me. "
Jack downed some dim sum and thought about it.

" Ok. Back then, there were maybe 5-10 places where a singer could have sung that kind of music. But, I'm not sure. " He took George's pad, and began writing.

" There's the beginning list. Here's the name of a guy who would totally know the rest."

" Ok. What about accomodations. We know she was Black. Where would have a Black struggling singer have lived back then?"

" Black neighborhood?"

" She might have roomed with a white girl."

" Hmm. That broadens it a little bit, but, not a lot. There are a few places where musicians could pay week to week.", Jack says, scribbling down some more names and addresses.

" Of course, there were some who stayed in Chinatown."

" Really?", George said.

" Yep. Not many places. Actually, I can give you the name of the woman who began it in the late 60's. She would know the name of the Asians who did that kind of landlording. But, I see where you're going with the living situation angle. Boston's so segregated, and especially 25 years ago. The places where a Black would live were slim. So, you might actually get lucky with those. "

"You think the CD is going to be any help?"

" Yeah. I really do. If you luck upon someone who worked in the club where she was singing, and they're into music. More than likely, they'll remember the voice. It had depth and promise, and the truly talented, you don't usually forget. "

" That's what I thought. "

" Why don't I call Sal right now, and see if we can stop off by his place, so that he can fill in the rest of those possible clubs. "

Jack makes his phone call. " Yeah…..well, thanks Sal. We'll be by there in a couple of hours." Jack hangs up his cellphone.

" He's at home?"

" Yep. And, there's no one better than Sal. He's lived his entire life in Boston, and has worked in the Boston music scene for the past 50 years. No matter the music, he knew it. He retired from doing the music beat for the Boston Globe around 10 years ago. But, he still knows the beat, and does it for his weekly radio show still today. If you want some info, he’s your man."

George looks at them. " Eat up! The faster we eat, the faster we get to Sal."

Chad smiles at George as he piles up his plate. For the first time, Chad honestly believed he could find his mother.