Hank nodded. “Don’t you feel, though, that you’re simplifying things somewhat? I mean, by hiding behind all this psychological—”
“Hiding?”
“Perhaps that’s not the word I wanted. But do you feel that delinquency can be reduced to such simple psychological equations?”
“Of course not. There is practically no such animal as a pure delinquent type. The acting-out neurotic, the wayward egocentric boy, even the passive or socialized delinquent — the one who’ll succumb to the pressures of his environment or his group while not truly being a disturbed personality — are hardly ever encountered in a pure state. And we certainly can’t discount the influence of environment, or a poor school situation, or even the unenlightenment of many police officials, as contributing factors to delinquency. But this is not psychological gobbledygook, Mr. Bell. I hope you didn’t mean to imply that.”
“These boys, Mr. Walsh, killed another boy.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Would you excuse their act by telling me their parents have personality disorders?”
“Would I excuse the act of murder?” Walsh asked.
“Yes.”
“It is your job to decide the law, Mr. Bell, not mine. I am dealing with people, not torts.”
Hank nodded. “May I see the Di Pace boy now, please?”
“Certainly,” Walsh said. As he rose, the phone rang again. “Damnit,” he said. “Betty, would you answer that, please? This way, Mr. Bell.”
The boy had his mother’s red hair and brown eyes, the same oval face, the same mouth, which looked curiously feminine on a boy turning into a man. He was a tall boy, muscularly loose, with the huge hands that identified the street brawler.
“If you’re a cop,” he said, “I don’t want to talk to you.”
“I’m the district attorney,” Hank said, “and you’d better talk to me. I’m prosecuting this case.”
“All the more reason I got nothing to say. You think I’m gonna help you send me to the electric chair?”
“I want to know what happened on the night Morrez was killed.”
“Yeah? So go ask Morrez. Maybe he’ll tell you. I don’t have to tell you nothing. Go talk to the big-shot lawyers the court appointed. I got four of them all to myself. Go talk to them.”
“I’ve already talked to them, and they had no objections to my questioning you and the other boys. I guess you know you’re in serious trouble. Your lawyers have told you that.”
“I’ll go to Children’s Court.”
“No you won’t, Danny. You’ll be tried with the other boys in General Sessions, Part Three.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. The case will be tried in this county next month. You’ll get a fair trial, but nobody’s going to try to coddle you. You killed a boy, Danny.”
“Yeah? That’s what you got to prove, mister. I’m innocent until I’m proved guilty.”
“That’s true. Now suppose you tell me what happened on the night of July tenth?”
“I told the story a hundred times already. We were out for a stroll. The spic jumped us, so we stabbed him. It was self-defense.”
“The boy you stabbed was blind. You surely must realize that no jury is going to believe he jumped you.”
“I don’t care what they believe. That’s what happened. You can ask Batman and Tower. They’ll tell you the same thing.”
“Who’s Batman?”
“Aposto. That’s what they call him.”
“Who calls him that?”
“The guys on the club he belongs to.”
“What gang is that?”
“You know all this already. Who the hell are you trying to con?”
“I’m asking you anyway,” Hank said. “What’s the name of the gang?”
“The Thunderbirds.” Danny paused. “And it ain’t a gang. It’s a club.”
“I see. And what differentiates a gang from a club?”
“The Thunderbirds never go around looking for no trouble.”
“Then what were you doing in Spanish Harlem on the night of July tenth if not looking for trouble?”
“We were out for a stroll.”
“You and Tower — who I suppose is Reardon — and Batman. Is that correct?”
“That’s correct,” Danny said.
“Why do you call him Tower?”
“I don’t know. I guess because he’s a tall guy. Also, he’s very strong. Tower kind of rhymes with power.”
“What do they call you?”
“Danny.”
“No nickname?”
“What do I need a nickname for? Anyway, Danny is a nickname. My real name is Daniel.”
“Why’d you join the gang, Danny?”
“I don’t belong to no gang.”
“The club then.”
“I don’t belong to no club.”
“Then what were you doing with two members of the Thunderbirds on the night of July tenth?”
“They asked me would I like to go for a stroll, so I said yes. So I went. There ain’t no law against that.”
“There’s a law against murder.”
“Yeah, but this was self-defense.”
“Danny, that’s sheer nonsense and you know it. The boy was blind!”
“So what?”
“So I’m telling you this. If you stick to this story, I can guarantee one thing. I can absolutely guarantee that you’ll end up in the electric chair.”
Danny was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “That’s what you want, ain’t it?”
“I want the truth.”
“You got the truth. Tower and Batman and me were out for a stroll. The lousy spic jumped us and we knifed him. That’s the truth.”
“Did you stab Morrez?”
“Sure, I stabbed him. The lousy spic jumped us. I stabbed him four times.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to stab him. What’s the matter, you think I’m afraid of stabbing somebody? I’d stab anybody got wise with me.”
“A blind boy?”
“Oh, lay off the blind-boy jazz, willya? He jumped us.”
“How could he jump you when he couldn’t even see you?”
“Ask him. Maybe he heard us. Maybe he wasn’t really blind. Maybe he was only faking like he was blind so—”
“Danny, Danny.”
“How the hell do I know why he jumped us? But he did, all right. So we give it to him. One thing about the Thunderbirds, they got heart. They don’t go looking for no trouble, but if it comes, they don’t turkey out, either.”
“All right, Danny. The three of you made up a story, and maybe it was a good story. But it doesn’t work in the light of the facts, and I should think you’d be smart enough to change the story now that you know the facts. This way, you haven’t got a prayer.”
“I’m telling you exactly what happened. You want me to lie?”
“What are you afraid of, Danny? Who are you afraid of?”
“I ain’t afraid of nothing or nobody on the face of the earth. And don’t you forget that neither. And I’ll tell you something else. You may think I’m going to the chair, but you got it all wrong. ’Cause I ain’t. And if I was you, I’d watch my step, mister. I just wouldn’t go walking around no dark streets at night.”
“Are you threatening me, Danny?”
“I’m just advising you.”
“Do you think I’m afraid of a bunch of teen-age hoodlums?”
“I don’t know what you’re afraid of or what you ain’t. All I know is I personally wouldn’t want to tackle fifty guys who are out to burn.”
“The Thunderbirds, do you mean?”
“I ain’t mentioning no names. Just watch your step, mister.”
“Thanks for the warning,” Hank said dryly.
“Because just between the two of us,” Danny said, “you don’t look to me like you could handle a skinny dame, no less fifty guys.”
“You’ve got quite a talent, Danny,” Hank said.
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“I came here because your mother told me—”
“My mother? What’re you dragging her in this for? Why’d you send for her?”
“I didn’t. She came to see me. She told me you didn’t belong to the Thunderbirds, and that you’d had nothing to do with the stabbing. When I explained this to your lawyers, they agreed I might see you. So I came. And now I’m convinced more than ever that you did belong to the gang and that you killed that boy cold-bloodedly and with premeditation. That’s your talent, Danny. It should work well with a jury.”
“I didn’t kill him cold-bloodedly or nothing. I stabbed him in self-defense, and I wasn’t trying to kill him. I was only trying to stop him from hurting me.”
“He was blind!” Hank said angrily.
“I don’t know what he was, and I don’t care. All I know is he got off that stoop like a madman, and he had a knife in his hands, and when he come at us—”
“You’re lying!”
“I ain’t lying. He had a knife. I saw it. For God’s sake, I saw it! You think I wanted to get cut? So when Tower and Batman went at him, I went at him, too. I ain’t turkey, mister. When there’s trouble, I got heart.”
“It certainly takes a lot of heart to attack a boy who can’t see.”
“You don’t have to see to be able to stab somebody. There’s guys been stabbed on the blackest night. All you got to do is feel, and stick the blade. What the hell do you know? You lousy pansy, you was probably born on a big estate in—”
“Shut up, Danny!”
“Don’t tell me to shut up. You’re lucky my lawyers are even letting you talk to me. Nobody sent for you, you come of your own free will. Okay, you’re here and this is what I got to say. I say we were walking down that street, and that spic got up off the stoop like a crazy man and come at us with a blade in his fist. We stabbed him because it was either us or him. If he died, that’s tough. He shouldn’t of got wise.”
Hank rose. “Okay, Danny. That’s your story. I wish you luck.”
“And keep away from my mother, mister,” Danny said. “Just keep away from her. You hear me?”
“I hear you.”
“Then you better do it.”
“There’s only one thing I’m going to do, Danny. I’m going to send you and your friends to the electric chair for the murder of an innocent boy.”
The note was waiting for him back at the office. It was addressed to MISTER DISTRICT ATTORNEY HENRY BELL. The letters were scrawled across the face of the envelope in ink. He tore open the flap and pulled out the single sheet of notepaper. In the same hand were written the words: