I didn’t say anything.
“You gotta find that girl, man. You gotta make this shit right.”
“Fuck you!”
“Uh-uh, Easy. That don’t make you brave. Brave is findin’ that white man an’ yo’ friend. Brave is not lettin’ them pull this shit on you.”
“So what can I do?”
“You got that gun, don’t ya? You think them men’s gonna beat bullets?”
“They armed too, both of ’em.”
“All you gotta do is make sure they don’t see ya comin’. Just like in the war, man. Make believe you is the night.”
“But how I even find’em t’sneak up on? What you want me t’do? Look in the phone book?”
“You know where Joppy live, right? Les go look. An’ if he ain’t there you know they gotta be with Albright.”
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.
Chapter 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 bearskin. 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 backward. 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 loose, 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.