Joppy's house was dark and his bar was padlocked from the outside. The night watchman on duty at Albright's building, a fat, florid-faced man, said that Albright had moved out.
So I made up my mind to call information for every town north of Santa Monica. I got lucky and found DeWitt Albright on my first try. He lived on Route 9, in the Malibu Hills.
29
I drove past Santa Monica into Malibu and found Route 9. It was just a graded dirt road. There I found three mailboxes that read: Miller, Korn, Albright. I passed the first two houses and drove a full fifteen minutes before getting to Albright's marker. It was far enough out that any death cry would go unheard.
It was a simple, ranch-style house, not large. There were no outside lights except on the front porch so I couldn't make out the color. I wanted to know what color the house was. I wanted to know what made jets fly and how long sharks lived. There was a lot I wanted to know before I died.
I could hear loud male voices and the woman's pleading before I got to the window.
Over the sill I saw a large room with a darkwood floor and a high ceiling. Before the blazing hearth sat a large couch covered with something like bear skin. Daphne was on the couch, naked, and the men, DeWitt and Joppy, stood over her. Albright was wearing his linen suit but Joppy was stripped to the waist. His big gut looked obscene hanging over her like that and it took everything I had not to shoot him right then.
"You don't want any more of that now do you, honey?" Albright was saying. Daphne spat at him and he grabbed her by the throat. "If I don't get that money you better believe I'll get the satisfaction of killing you, girl!"
I like to think of myself as an intelligent man but sometimes I just run on feelings. When I saw that white man choking Daphne I eased the window open and crawled into the room. I was standing there, pistol in hand—but DeWitt sensed me before I could draw a bead on him. He swung around with the girl in front of him. When he saw me he threw her one way and he leaped behind the couch! I moved to shoot but then Joppy bolted for the back door. That distracted me, and in my one moment of indecision the window behind me shattered and a shot, like a cannon roar, rang out. As I dove for cover behind a sofa chair I saw that DeWitt Albright had drawn his pistol.
Two more shots ripped through the back of the fat chair. If I hadn't moved to the side, down low, he would have gotten me then.
I could hear Daphne crying but there was nothing I could do for her. My big fear was that Joppy would come around outside and get me from behind. So I moved into a corner, still hidden, I hoped, from Albright's sight and in a position to see Joppy if he stuck his head in the window.
"Easy?" DeWitt called.
I didn't say a word. Even the voice was silent.
We waited two or three long minutes. Joppy didn't appear at the window. That bothered me and I began to wonder what other way he might come. But just as I was looking around I heard a noise as if DeWitt had lurched up. There was a dull thud and the sofa chair came falling backwards. He'd heaved a lamp at the top of its high back. The lamp shattered and, even as I pulled off a shot where I expected him to be, I saw DeWitt rise up a few feet farther on; he had that pistol leveled at me.
I heard the shot, and something else, something that seemed almost impossible: DeWitt Albright grunted, "Wha?"
Then I saw Mouse! The smoking pistol in his hand!
He'd come into the room through the door Joppy had taken.
More shots exploded. Daphne screamed. I jumped to cover her with my body. Splinters of wood jumped from the wall and I saw Albright hurl himself through a window at the other side of the room.
Mouse took aim but his gun wouldn't fire. He cursed, threw it down, and got a snub-nose from his pocket. He ran for the window but in that time I heard the Caddy's engine turn over; tires were slithering in the dirt before Mouse could empty his second chamber.
"DAMN!!" Mouse yelled. "DAMN DAMN DAMN!!!"
A cold draft, sucked in through the shattered window, washed over Daphne and me.
"I hit him, Easy!" He was grinning down on me with all those golden teeth.
"Mouse," was all I could say.
"Ain't ya glad t'see me, Ease?"
I got up and took the little man in my arms. I hugged him like I would hug a woman.
"Mouse," I said again.
"Com'on man, we gotta get yo' boy back here." He jerked his head toward the door he'd come through.
Joppy was on the floor in the kitchen. His arms and legs were behind him, hog-tied by an extension cord. There was thick blood coming from the top of his bald head.
"Les get him to the other room," Mouse said.
We got him to the chair and Mouse strapped him down. Daphne wrapped herself in a blanket and shied to the end of the couch. She looked like a frightened kitten on her first Fourth of July.
All of a sudden Joppy's eyes shot open and he shouted, "Cut me aloose, man!"
Mouse just smiled.
Joppy was sweating, bleeding, and staring at us. Daphne was staring at the floor.
"Lemme go," Joppy whimpered.
"Shut up, man," Mouse said and Joppy quieted down.
"Can I have my clothes now?" Daphne's voice was thick.
"Sure, honey," Mouse said. "Right after we take care on some business."
"What's that?" I asked.
Mouse leaned forward to put his hand on my knee. It felt good to be alive and to be able to feel another man's touch. "I think you an' me deserve a little sumpin' fo' all this mess, don't you, Easy?"
"I give you half of everything I made, Ray."
"Naw, man," he said. "I don't want your money. I wanna piece'a that big pie Ruby over here sittin' on."
I didn't know why he called her Ruby, but I let it pass.
"Man, that's stolen money."
"That's the sweetest kind, Easy." He turned to her and smiled. "What about it, honey?"
"That's all Frank and I have. I won't give it up." I would have believed her if she wasn't talking to Mouse.
"Frank's dead." Mouse's face was completely deadpan.
Daphne looked at him for a moment and then she crumpled, just like a tissue, and started shaking.
Mouse went on, "Joppy the one did it, I figure. They found him beat to death in a alley just down from his bar."
When Daphne raised her head she had hate in her eyes, and there was hate in her voice when she said, "Is that the truth, Raymond?" She was a different woman.
"Now am I gonna lie to you, Ruby? Your brother is dead."
I had only been in an earthquake once but the feeling was the same: The ground under me seemed to shift. I looked at her to see the truth. But it wasn't there. Her nose, cheeks, her skin color—they were white. Daphne was a white woman. Even her pubic hair was barely bushy, almost flat.
Mouse said, "You gotta hear me, Ruby, Joppy killed Frank."
"I ain't kilt Frankie!" Joppy cried.
"Why you keep callin' her that?" I asked.
"Me an' Frank known each other way back, Ease, 'fore I even met you. I remember old Ruby here from her baby days. Half sister. She more filled out now but I never forget a face." Mouse pulled out a cigarette. "You know you a lucky man, Easy. I got it in mind to follah this mothahfuckah when I seen'im comin' outta yo' house this afternoon. I'as lookin' fo' you when I seen'im. I had Dupree's car so I follahed him downtown and he hooked up with whitey. Once I seed that you know I was on his ass for the duration."
I looked at Joppy. His eyes were big and he was sweating. Watery blood was dripping from his chin. "I ain't killed Frank, man. I ain't had no cause. Why I wanna kill Frank? Lissen, Ease, only reason I got you in this was so you could get some money—fo' that house."
"Then why you wit' Albright now?"
"She lied, man. Albright come t'me and he told me 'bout that money she got. She lied! She said she ain't hardly had no money!"
"Alright, thas enough talk," Mouse said. "Now, Ruby, I don't wanna scare ya but I will have that money."
"Y
ou don't scare me, Ray," she said simply.
Mouse frowned for just a second. It was like a small cloud passing quickly on a sunny day. Then he smiled.
"Ruby, you gotta worry 'bout yourself now, honey. You know men can get desperate when it comes to money …" Mouse let his words trail off while he took the pistol from his waistband.
He turned casually to his right and shot Joppy in the groin. Joppy's eyes opened wide and he started honking like a seal. He rocked back and forth trying to grab his wound but the wires held him to the chair. After a few seconds Mouse leveled his pistol and shot Joppy in the head. One moment Joppy had two bulging eyes, then his left eye was just a bloody, ragged hole. The force of the second shot threw him to the floor; spasms went threw his legs and feet for minutes afterward. I felt cold then. Joppy had been my friend but I'd seen many men die and I cared for Coretta too.
Mouse stood up and said, "So let's go get that money, honey." He picked up her clothes from behind the couch and dropped the heap in her lap. Then he went out the front door.
"Help me, Easy." Her eyes were full of fear and promise. "He's crazy. You still have your gun."
"I can't," I said.
"Then give it to me. I'll do it."
That was probably the closest Mouse had ever come to a violent death.
"No."
"I found some blood in the road," Mouse said when he returned. "I tole ya I got'im. I don't know how bad it is but he gonna remember me." There was childish glee in his voice.
While he talked I untied Joppy's corpse. I took Mouse's jammed pistol and put it in Joppy's hand.
"What you doin', Easy?" Mouse asked.
"I don't know, Ray. Just confusing things I guess."
Daphne rode with me and Mouse followed in Dupree's car. When we were a few miles away I threw Joppy's extension cord bonds down an embankment.
"Did you kill Teran?" I asked as we swung onto Sunset Boulevard.
"I guess so," she said, so softly that I had to strain to hear her.
"You guess? You don't know?"
"I pulled the trigger, he died. But he killed himself really. I went to him, to ask him to leave me alone. I offered him all my money but he just laughed. He had his hands in that little boy's drawers and he laughed." Daphne snorted. I don't know if it was a laugh or a sound of disgust. "And so I killed him."
"What happened to the boy?"
"I brought him to my place. He just ran in the corner and wouldn't even move."
Daphne had the bag in a YWCA locker.
Back in East L.A. Mouse counted out ten thousand for each of us. He let Daphne keep the bag.
She called a cab and I went out with her to wait by the granite lamppost at the curb.
"Stay with me," I said. Moths fluttered around us in that small circle of light.
"I can't, Easy, I can't stay with you."
"Why not?" I asked.
"I just can't."
I put my hand out but she moved away saying, "Don't touch me."
"I've done more than touch you, honey."
"That wasn't me."
"What you mean? Who was it if it wasn't you?" I moved toward her and she got behind her bag.
"I'll talk to you, Easy. I'll talk to you till the car comes but just don't touch me. Don't touch me or I'll yell."
"What's wrong?"
"You know what's wrong. You know who I am; what I am."
"You ain't no different than me. We both just people, Daphne. That's all we are."
"I'm not Daphne. My given name is Ruby Hanks and I was born in Lake Charles, Louisiana. I'm different than you because I'm two people. I'm her and I'm me. I never went to that zoo, she did. She was there and that's where she lost her father. I had a different father. He came home and fell in my bed about as many times as he fell in my mother's. He did that until one night Frank killed him."
When she looked up at me I had the feeling that she wanted to reach out to me, not out of love or passion but to implore me.
"Bury Frank," she said.
"Okay. But you could stay here with me and we could bury him together."
"I can't. Do me one other favor?"
"What's that?"
"Do something about the boy."
I didn't really want her to stay. Daphne Monet was death herself. I was glad that she was leaving.
But I would have taken her in a second if she'd asked me to.
The cab driver could tell something was wrong. He kept looking around as if he expected to be mugged any second. She asked him to carry her bag. She put her hand on his arm to thank him but she wouldn't even shake my hand goodbye.
"Why'd you kill him, Mouse?"
"Who?"
"Joppy!"
Mouse was whistling and wrapping his money in a package fashioned from brown paper bags.
"He the cause of all yo' pain, Easy. And anyway, I needed to show that girl how serious I was."
"But she already hated him fo' Frank; maybe you could'a worked on that."
"It was me killed Frank," he said. This time it was Mouse reminding me of DeWitt Albright.
"You killed him?"
"So what? What you think he gonna do fo' you? You think he wasn't gonna kill you?"
"That don't mean I had t'kill'im."
"Hell it don't!" Mouse flashed his eyes angrily at me.
It was murder and I had to swallow it.
"You just like Ruby," Mouse said.
"What you say?"
"She wanna be white. All them years people be tellin' her how she light-skinned and beautiful but all the time she knows that she can't have what white people have. So she pretend and then she lose it all. She can love a white man but all he can love is the white girl he think she is."
"What's that got to do with me?"
"That's just like you, Easy. You learn stuff and you be thinkin' like white men be thinkin'. You be thinkin' that what's right fo' them is right fo' you. She look like she white and you think like you white. But brother you don't know that you both poor niggers. And a nigger ain't never gonna be happy 'less he accept what he is."
30
They found DeWitt Albright slumped over his steering wheel just north of Santa Barbara; it took him that long to bleed to death. I could hardly believe it. A man like DeWitt Albright didn't die, couldn't die. It frightened me even to think of a world that could kill a man like that; what could a world like that do to me?
Mouse and I heard it on the radio when I was driving him to the bus station the next morning. I was happy to see him off.
"I'm'a give all that money to Etta, Easy. Maybe she take me back now that I done saved yo' ass and come up rich." Mouse smiled at me and climbed on the bus. I knew I'd see him again and I didn't know how I felt about that.
That same morning I went to Daphne's apartment where I found the little boy. He was filthy. His underwear hadn't been changed in weeks and mucus was caked in his nose and on his face. He didn't say anything. I found him eating from a bag of flour in the kitchen. When I walked up to him and held out my hand he just took it and followed me to the bathroom. After he was clean I brought him out to Primo's place.
"I don't think he understands English," I said to Primo. "Maybe you could get something out of him."
Primo was a father at heart. He had as many children as Ronald White and he loved them all.
"I could give some mommasita a few hundred bucks over the next year or two while she looked after him," I said.
"I'll see," Primo said. He already had the boy in his lap. "Maybe I know someone."
The next person I went to see was Mr. Carter. He gave me a cool eye when I told him that Daphne was gone. I told him that I'd heard from Albright about the killings Joppy and Frank had done. I told him about Frank's death and that Joppy had disappeared.
But what really got to him was when I told him that I knew Daphne was colored. I told him that she wanted me to tell him that she loved him and wanted to be with him but that she would never know any kind of peace as long
as she was with him. I laid it on kind of thick but he liked it that way.
I told him about her sundress, and while I talked I thought about making love to her when she was still a white woman. He had a look of ecstasy on his face; I had a darker feeling, but just as strong, inside.
"But I've got a problem, Mr. Carter, and you do too."
"Oh?" He was still savoring the last glimpse of her. "What is that?"
"I'm the only suspect that the police have," I told him. "And unless sumpin' happens I'm'a have to tell'em 'bout Daphne. And you know she gonna hate you if you drag her through the papers. She might even kill herself," I said. I didn't think it was a lie.
"What can I do about that?"
"You the one braggin' 'bout all your City Hall connections."
"Yes?"
"Then get'em on the phone. I got a story t'tell'em but you gotta back me up in it. 'Cause if I go in there on my own you know they gonna sweat me till I tell about Daphne."
"Why should I help you, Mr. Rawlins? I lost my money and my fiancée. You haven't done a thing for me."
"I saved her life, man. I let her get away with your money and her skin. Any one of the men involved with this would have seen her dead."
That very afternoon we went to City Hall and met with the assistant to the chief of police and the deputy mayor, Lawrence Wrightsmith. The policeman was short and fat. He looked to the deputy mayor before saying anything, even hello. The deputy mayor was a distinguished man in a gray suit. He waved his arm through the air while he talked and he smoked Pall Malls. He had silver-gray hair and I thought for a moment that he looked the way I imagined the president to be when I was a child.
Officers Mason and Miller were called when I mentioned them.
We were all sitting in Mr. Wrightsmith's office. He was behind his desk and the deputy police chief stood behind him. Carter and I sat before the desk and Carter's lawyer was behind us. Mason and Miller sat off to the side, on a couch.
"Well, Mr. Rawlins," Mr. Wrightsmith said. "You have something to tell us about all these murders going on?"
"Yessir."
"Mr. Carter here says that you were working for him."
"In a way, sir."
"What way is that?"
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