‘Where’ve you been all morning?’ Ben asked crisply.
‘Here and there.’
‘Don’t you ever report in to headquarters?’
‘When I want to.’
‘Everybody else has to do it whether they want to or not.’
‘Everybody else works something besides Bearmatch,’ Langley said. This time the smile had an edge of bitterness. ‘Niggers got their own time, and that’s what I got to keep track of.’
Ben leaned against the tree, nudging his shoulder up hard against it. ‘Where do you live, Teddy?’
‘Right in town.’
‘I mean the address.’
Langley eyed him cautiously. ‘What do you care where I live? You ain’t invited to supper.’
‘I looked your address up in the personnel file,’ Ben said. ‘It said you lived in a trailer park on the south side.’
‘So what?’
‘Do you still live there?’
‘What’s it to you where I live?’ Langley asked resentfully.
‘Scottish Glen Trailer Park, is that right?’
Langley watched him irritably. ‘You doing the census?’
Ben let it pass. ‘What’d you know about Charlie Breedlove?’ he asked bluntly.
‘Nothing.’
‘Did you like him?’
‘Nothing special.’
Ben stared at him evenly. ‘You glad he’s dead?’
Langley shrugged halfheartedly. ‘It didn’t mean much to me one way or the other.’
‘Some people might think that’s a strange attitude,’ Ben said cautiously.
‘What do I care what some people think?’ Langley said irritably. ‘Some people think we should eat and go to school and have babies with niggers.’
‘Is that what Breedlove thought?’
A short, edgy laugh suddenly broke out of Langley. ‘Well, I’ll be shit, Ben, you must have figured Breedlove out.’ He slapped his knee and laughed again, this time more freely. ‘Hell, boy, you’re better than I thought.’
‘What are you talking about? Figured out what?’
‘That Breedlove was an informer.’
‘What makes you think that?’ Ben asked, astonished at Langley’s bluntness.
‘Hell, I’m no fool,’ Langley said. ‘It was easy to spot. He was always overdoing it. Nigger this and nigger that. Always yelling at them, pushing them around. He was always doing that kind of shit.’
‘So do you.’
‘Yeah, but with some people, when they do it, it’s for real. You can tell. They got blood in their eye, you might say.’
‘And Breedlove didn’t?’
‘Hell, no,’ Langley said. ‘With Breedlove it was all an act.’ He waved his hand. ‘I always knew that. It was just for show. There was nothing to it. He was just doing it to cover up for something.’
‘And because of that, you fingered him for an informer?’
‘Well, you figure it this way: Maybe it’s an act because he wants to be like the rest of us, a real tough guy, something like that. So. to look good, he slaps a dumb burrhead up against the wall once in a while. Or maybe it’s something else. Maybe he’s acting this way because these ain’t his real feelings at all. Matter of fact, his real feelings is just the opposite.’ He took an idle swig from the bottle. ‘That’s how I figured it with Breedlove.’
Ben nodded. ‘But did you have any proof?’
‘Proof?’ Langley asked. ‘That he was an informer? No, I never had no proof. I just knew it, that’s all.’ His eyes slid up toward the overhanging limbs, then dropped back to Ben. ‘Just like I know you for a nigger lover, Ben,’ he said. Then he smiled. ‘Course, you don’t make much a secret of that, do you?’
‘I guess not.’
Langley drained the last of the cola, then tossed the bottle into the yard beyond the cracked sidewalk. ‘They decide to put you on the case?’ he asked.
‘Which one?’
‘The Breedlove thing.’
‘You might say that,’ Ben told him.
‘Why you?’
‘Maybe because I’m a nigger lover.’
Langley laughed. ‘You know why I didn’t beat the shit of you back at headquarters?’
Ben did not answer.
‘’Cause that’s exactly what the niggers would want,’ Langley said. ‘A full-scale fight between two white cops would have got us both fired.’ He shook his head. ‘And then I wouldn’t be busting heads in Bearmatch anymore, breaking up their crap games, raiding their stinking shothouses, smashing their little basement stills and chasing their whores out of town.’ He smiled cunningly. ‘That’s why I didn’t whop your ass, Ben,’ he said with a sudden coldness. ‘But I can’t always be depended upon to control myself.’
Again, Ben kept silent. He could see the sort of rage that swept back and forth like a hot wind in Langley’s mind, and he wanted to cool it slightly, coax more talk out of him.
‘Where’s Tod?’ he asked finally.
‘Sick,’ Langley answered dully. ‘He’s got a fever, so he didn’t come in.’ He glanced up and down the street, his face grim and oddly bitter. ‘If you worked this shithole,’ he said at last, ‘you’d get just like me.’
‘I thought you liked it.’
‘I do,’ Langley said, lifting his face proudly. ‘You know why?’ Cause I can do some good here. For my own damn race.’ He eased himself off the hood of the car, leaving a wide swath across its dusty, unwashed surface. ‘Well, that’s about all I got to say to you. I mean, you know how it is, a cop’s got to be on the street.’
Ben touched his arm. ‘Not yet,’ he said.
Langley stopped abruptly and turned toward him. ‘I meant what I said just now,’ he said grimly. ‘Don’t you ever make a move on me again.’
‘I took a look inside a little house this morning,’ Ben began.
‘What house?’
‘Little wood-frame thing, over on Courtland.’
Langley’s face turned rigid but he didn’t speak.
‘You know the one I’m talking about?’
Langley did not answer.
‘Sort of let go, the house,’ Ben went on. ‘No paint. A lot of crabgrass.’
Langley shifted nervously on his feet. ‘What about it?’
‘You don’t live there, do you?’
‘No.’
‘Why do you keep it?’
‘That’s my business.’
‘It’s some sort of headquarters, right?’ Ben asked.
‘I can think whatever I want to,’ Langley said bitterly. ‘I don’t have to account for it. And I’ll tell you something else. The niggers, they got some sympathy right now, but deep in every white man’s heart they’s just one truth. You know it, and I know it, and they’s not a white man on earth that don’t know it.’
‘What’s that, Teddy?’
‘A nigger is lower than a white man,’ Langley said authoritatively. ‘He’s closer to the monkeys. Nothing’s ever going to change that fact. Not Martin Luther King, or the Kennedy brothers, or you or Breedlove, or anybody else. Race is race, and that’s the end of it.’ He started for his car again, but this time Ben grasped his upper arm firmly.
‘I have to bring you back to headquarters, Teddy,’ he said.
Langley looked at him astonished. ‘Headquarters?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Why?’
‘Some people want to talk to you.’
‘What people?’
‘Captain Starnes,’ Ben said. ‘Me.’
Langley started to laugh, then abruptly stopped himself. ‘Because of that house?’ he asked with a laugh. ‘Shit, I don’t make no secret about how I feel. I know people don’t like some of the things I got in that house. Those pictures. I know that. But they’ll get used to seeing them. You know why? Because they like the ideas behind them. They know it’s the truth.’
‘I found a ring in your desk,’ Ben told him quietly. ‘Third drawer down.’
‘What desk?�
��
‘The one you have in that little house on Courtland.’
Langley looked at him quizzically. ‘Who told you about that place, anyway?’ he asked.
‘Breedlove told someone where he was going the night he was killed. He gave the Courtland address.’
Langley stared at Ben wonderingly. ‘He told somebody he was going over there?’
‘Yes.’
‘Was it you he told?’
‘No.’
‘But somebody told you, and you went over there to have a look around.’
‘That’s right.’
Langley laughed bitterly. ‘Shit, Ben, you do more than love niggers, you pimp for them.’
Ben felt his fingers draw more tightly around Langley’s arm. ‘I found a ring,’ he repeated. ‘It was wrapped up in a spool of electrical tape.’ He watched Langley’s eyes as he delivered the last line. ‘It belonged to Charlie Breedlove. He wore it the night he was killed.’
Langley’s face paled in a sudden realization. ‘So that’s it, then,’ he said quietly. ‘They’re going to pin it on me.’
‘Where were you the last night?’ Ben asked.
Langley looked at him mockingly. ‘What difference does it make?’
‘We’re talking about a murder,’ Ben said.
‘And so you want me to come up with some alibi?’
‘I want to know where you were.’
Langley shook his head. ‘It don’t matter. The niggers want me strung up. The big wheels want that, too. I embarrass them.’
‘Where were you?’ Ben repeated.
‘I was with Tod,’ Langley said determinedly. ‘He was sick last night, just like I told you. Had a fever. I tended to him all night.’
‘Did anybody else see you?’
‘No,’ Langley replied. ‘It was just me and Tod in his house. All alone. By ourselves. Just me and Tod. You figure anybody’ll believe that?’
Ben did not answer.
‘Hell, no,’ Langley said firmly. ‘Not a soul.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m already gone. They’ve already stuck me in the pen. Locked up tight.’ He smiled haughtily. ‘But I’ll tell you one thing, by God: when the people come back to their senses, I’ll be a goddamn hero. They’ll bring me out of jail on their shoulders.’
Ben tugged him forward toward his car. ‘Maybe so, Teddy,’ he said. ‘But not yet.’
THIRTY-SEVEN
Luther pounded his fist on the desk. ‘Goddammit, Teddy!’ he cried. ‘What is this about a house and crazy pictures on the walls and shit like that?’
Langley sat calmly in a chair across from Luther’s desk, his eyes shifting slowly from one face to the next.
Ben stood in the left corner by the window. Daniels leaned on the wall opposite him, his eyes watching Langley steadily.
‘What’s in that house, Teddy?’ Luther demanded.
‘You already know,’ Langley replied almost offhandedly. ‘Wellman’s already told you. You’ve already found everything you need.’
Luther leaned toward him menacingly. ‘Crazy shit, right?’
Langley said nothing.
‘Goddammit, Teddy, you know what this makes us look like?’ Luther demanded. ‘Like a bunch of idiots, morons!’
Daniels straightened himself from the wall. ‘I don’t give a shit about that house,’ he said. ‘But if you laid one goddamn finger on Charlie Breedlove, I’ll –’
Langley shook his head despairingly. ‘They’ll do it for you, Harry,’ he said. ‘They already have.’
Daniels stared at Langley threateningly. ‘Did you kill Charlie?’
‘No,’
Daniels stepped away from the wall. ‘Don’t you lie to me, Teddy. Charlie Breedlove was my partner.’
‘I didn’t lay a hand on Charlie Breedlove,’ Langley said coldly. ‘I figure the FBI did it. They been after all of us, sniffing around, trying to pin things on us.’
‘FBI, my ass,’ Daniels hissed. He scooped the ring from the top of Luther’s desk and pressed to within a few inches of Langley’s face. ‘You see this, Teddy? This was Charlie’s wedding ring. You know where Ben found it?’
Langley didn’t bother to answer.
Suddenly, Daniels stepped over and slapped his face. ‘Do you know where he found it, you little shit!’
Luther jumped to his feet. ‘Stop it, Harry,’ he shouted. ‘Give me that goddamn ring.’ He snapped it from Daniels’ fingers. ‘Where’d you get this?’ he demanded, his eyes bearing down on Langley.
‘I never seen it before,’ Langley said sullenly.
‘Harry already took it over to Mrs Breedlove,’ Luther said. ‘She identified it. She said it was definitely Charlie’s.’
Langley remained silent.
‘Where’d you get it, Teddy?’ Luther repeated.
Langley shook his head. ‘I never seen it before.’
Luther picked up the roll of electrical tape and held it in the air.
‘How about this? You ever seen this tape before?’
‘No.’
‘You didn’t buy it?’ Luther continued insistently. ‘It didn’t belong to you?’
‘No.’
‘It looks like the same kind of tape that was wrapped about Breedlove’s hands,’ Luther said.
Langley’s eyes shifted slowly to the right, settling on Ben’s. ‘I never saw that tape. I never saw that ring. The niggers are doing this. Them and their big-wheel friends.’
‘Niggers?’ Luther cried. ‘You think they killed Breedlove?’ He laughed. ‘You’re up to your neck in bullshit, Teddy. You’re spilling over with it.’
Langley drew his eyes away from Ben, then let them drift back to Luther. ‘You going to arrest me?’
‘You got a reason I shouldn’t?’
‘I was with my brother.’
‘That may be true, Teddy,’ Luther replied icily. ‘But the question is, where were the two of you?’
‘We was in our trailer, that’s where we was.’
‘It probably took two people to hang Breedlove up the way he was,’ Luther said accusingly.
‘Me and Tod, right?’ Langley said with a snide laugh. ‘That’s the way you figure it?’
‘It’s beginning to look that way.’
Langley tightened his lips. His eyes returned to Ben, but he did not speak.
‘Where’s Tod now?’ Luther demanded.
‘At home.’
‘Home, or that little dump you got over on Courtland?’
‘Home,’ Langley said. ‘You know, the trailer.’
‘And I guess he’ll say you two were together all night?’
Langley nodded.
‘And that you were in the trailer?’
‘That’s right,’ Langley said. ‘He was sick. He had a fever. He’s my brother, and so it’s my job to see after him when he’s feeling bad.’
Daniels stepped over to face Langley. ‘Let me tell you something, Teddy,’ he said. ‘If you hurt Charlie, I’m going to deal with you myself. ’
Langley stared coldly into Daniels’ face. ‘I didn’t lay a finger on your asshole buddy,’ he spat, ‘but Breedlove was a goddamn informer, and it don’t surprise me a bit that he ended up dead.’
Instantly, Daniels raised his hand to strike Langley, but Luther grabbed his hand. ‘You want your job, Harry, you let me handle this.’
Daniels’ hand trembled in place for a moment, then lowered slowly. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘You’re right, Captain.’
Luther let go of Daniels’ hand, then turned to Ben. ‘Go over and check on Tod,’ he said. ‘See what he has to say.’
Ben nodded quickly, then stepped toward the door.
‘Oh, by the way,’ Luther said, ‘you forgot this when you left this morning.’
Ben turned around in time to see Luther toss his badge toward him from across the room.
The Langleys’ trailer sat on plain gray cinderblocks at the back corner of the lot. Other trailers were scattered across the bare ground, their doors and windows flung ope
n against the baking heat. A few work shirts and tattered bedsheets hung from the communal clothesline at the opposite end of the field, and beyond it, Ben could see a rusty set of swings and a crude seesaw.
Tod Langley opened the door slightly, and Ben could see a single eye peering at him from the darkness behind it.
‘I need to talk to you, Tod,’ he said.
‘Me?’ Tod asked surprised. ‘Where’s Teddy?’
‘He’s still on duty,’ Ben told him.
Tod still did not open the door. ‘Well, I don’t know,’ he said, hesitant, an edgy fear in his voice. ‘I mean, after the way you done with Teddy, I –’
‘It’s not about that,’ Ben assured him.
‘Well, what is it then?’
‘It’s about Charlie Breedlove.’
‘What about him?’
‘I’m checking on a few things.’
‘It ain’t got nothing to do with me.’
Ben could feel himself growing increasingly impatient as he continued to stand in the steamy summer air. ‘Let me in, Tod,’ he said finally. ‘This is department business and I don’t have time to argue about it.’ He pressed his hand against the door and felt it give way as Tod drew back.
Tod had already dropped into the small chair a few feet from the door, and for a moment Ben simply stood, his body framed in the doorway, and let his eyes adjust to the darkened room.
‘Me and Teddy keeps everything closed up,’ Tod explained. ‘On account of being cops, you know?’
Ben stared at him quizzically.
‘Grudges, I mean,’ Tod explained. ‘People out to get us.’
Large sheets of tinfoil had been taped to all the windows, and they gave the room an eerie look of utter isolation, of something cut off from the outside world.
‘It’s for pictures,’ Tod said. ‘All this tinfoil, I mean.’
‘Pictures?’ Ben asked. ‘You take pictures?’
‘It’s against pictures,’ Tod explained. ‘Against getting them taken of you. You put tinfoil on your windows, can’t nobody see inside, can’t nobody take no pictures.’ He leaned forward conspiratorially. ‘Like the federal boys, you know? I mean, the FBI.’ He laughed idiotically. ‘They’d take a picture of a man on his shitter if they thought they could use it against him.’
Streets of Fire Page 27
