For a moment or two after I spoke it was quiet at our table as the news soaked in. “You mean Sam Irwin from down in Motor Pool?” Ron asked.
I nodded. “One and the same,” I said.
Maybe word about traitors in our midst was news to people like Ron Peters and J.P. Beaumont, but clearly Sam Irwin’s name was no surprise to Knuckles Russell.
“So?” He spat in disgust. “You think that motherfucker’s the only one? All he knows is cars and knives and cuttin‘ people. Sam Irwin’s not the brains. He ain’t runnin’ the show.”
“Who is then?”
Knuckles shrugged. “I dunno.”
“I’ve heard rumors that Ben Weston was in on it,” I said tentatively, just to see what kind of reaction the comment would elicit. The result was far more explosive than I expected. Ezra Russell half rose to his feet until his face was barely inches from mine, his features contorted into a look of sheer hatred.
“Don’t you dis’ my friend, One-Time. You say that again, and I’ll smoke you sure!”
I took Knuckles Russell at his word. No disrespect for his dead friend Ben Weston would be tolerated.
“Tell me about Ben,” I said, backing off, modifying my tone. “What made him tick?”
Unexpectedly, Ezra Russell’s eyes clouded with tears. He wiped them away angrily with the back of his hand. “Ben Weston was the onliest real friend I ever had,” he said despairingly. “The only one.” He broke off, his voice choked with raw emotion.
The whole time, I had been wondering how Ron Peters had managed to overcome Knuckles’s entirely understandable distrust and antipathy toward cops, how he had talked him into coming to talk to us. Now I knew the answer. Something about Ben Weston had engendered a powerful loyalty in the boy.
“How did that happen?” I asked. “How did you two become friends?”
He shook his head. “I dunno. Not exactly. I didn’t want it. Ben shows up at my door one mornin‘ and says he wants to talk to me. I say I don’t wanna talk to no cops. He says we talk anyway, he says he knows my uncle from church and my mama and Mrs. Davis, my fourth grade teacher. He says he knows I be…he knows I’m smart and do I want to be somebody’s smart homeboy and do their dirty work and get myself killed or do I want to have a life?
“I say to him you can’t come in here. My friends’ll say I’m turnin‘ on ’em, and Ben says that’s right, that’s the way it’s gonna look. He says he’s puttin‘ the word out on the street that me and him is good buddies, so if I doan wanna get my ass killed, I better be. And so he come almost every night and we talk. He talks ’bout my mama and my uncle and how family’s the most important thing of all. And he talks ‘bout how bein’ somebody’s homeboy’s no better’an bein‘ their slave.
“So word gets out that me an‘ him hang out together. The BGDs all say I’m spyin’ for him. Ben laughs and says that’s right, that’s the way it looks. So what’m I gonna do now? He axs me if I know Harriet Tubman. He says she run the Underground Railroad back in the old days. He says he’s startin‘ one of his own-a railroad to out, away from gangs and drugs. He axs me if I want to be on that train or be dead. I say that’s not much choice and he and says, boy, that’s the only choice you gots. And so I took it.”
Knuckles’s words had tumbled out in an almost breathless rush. Now he stopped and waited.
“Where did the railroad take you?” I asked.
“Ellensburg. Ben Weston worked some kind of deal to get me an‘ this other kid in over at Central. We both be…we’re both in this special English class. He helped me sell my car for this quarter and he was gonna get me student aid for the next one. All I gotta do is promise not to come ’round here, not to get involved. He says my family can’t even know ‘bout what I’m doin’ ‘cause they might tell the wrong people. He says he ain’t tellin’ anybody, not even his woman, neither.
“And so I’m over there workin‘ my ass off. I doan read no papers, doan see no TV. So when this One-Time here wakes me up at six o’clock in the mornin’, I think maybe some of my ex-friends’re lookin‘ for me to cause trouble. Instead, he tells me ’bout Ben and all those poor little kids.”
“You’ve been in Ellensburg the whole time?”
He nodded.
“What about your briefcase?” I asked. “The one you got from your mother for your birthday?”
His eyes narrowed. “What about it? How’d you know ‘bout that?”
“It was found on what used to be your doorstep the morning after the murders. Some of your former associates from the streets turned it over to us. The clothes inside-red sweats-were soaked with blood.”
“I be a BGD,” he announced defiantly. “I don‘ wear red sweats. Ever!”
As soon as he said it, the frame-up was so obvious I felt stupid for falling for it even momentarily. The color red and BGD do not go together.
“Okay.” I nodded. “I understand that, but somebody wanted us to think you did it. They went to a lot of trouble to make it look as though you had something to do with what happened to the Westons. Maybe they figured that if we didn’t get you for the murder, maybe some of your ex-friends would take care of you just on general principles. So you tell me, who did it, Ezra? Do you have any idea?”
“You already know one name,” he said. “Sam Irwin. If I say the others, I be breakin‘ my word to the Black Gangster Disciples and to Ben Weston both.”
“As far as the BGD are concerned, you’re a marked man anyway. They already told me that. And after talking to them, I can understand why Ben wanted you to stay out of it, to keep your mouth shut. We’ll try not to use your word alone to build our case, Ezra. There’ll be other evidence as well. In fact, there probably already is. Did Ron tell you about Junior, Ben’s son, that somebody tried to kill him again last night?”
“Yes,” he said with downcast eyes. “That’s why I’m here.”
“Don’t you owe Junior Weston the same kind of chance his father gave you? If we don’t stop these guys, they may try again, and the next time they may succeed. I can’t promise that you won’t be called on to testify against whatever police officers are behind this operation, because you probably will be, but I can say you’ll be given the best protection we have to offer.”
He raised his eyes and met mine, but he said nothing. “I’ll ask you again. What happened to your briefcase, Ezra?”
“One-Time took it.”
“A cop took it? Which one? When?”
“Name’s Deddens.”
“Gary Deddens? From Patrol?” I remembered Deddens from Ben Weston’s house. He had been one of the officers left guarding the crime scene, the guy who, along with me, had gone chasing after my would-be assassin. Talk about leaving the wolf to guard the henhouse. No wonder Ben Weston’s Day-Timer had disappeared into thin air.
Ezra Russell nodded. “That’s the one.”
“How did he get it?”
“He’s the bagman. We pay him to let us know where the gang enforcement’s gonna be. Me? I’m the treasurer of the Black Gangster Disciples. I take the money to Deddens in that briefcase my mama gave me for my birthday. Deddens takes the money and then he says he likes the case and that he’s gonna keep that too. And all the time he’s sayin‘ this, ol’ Sam Irwin’s standin‘ off to one side with his knife, sharpenin’ it. So I say fine, you keep it. But when people ax me about it, I say someone stole it.”
“Did Ben Weston know this was going on? Did he know there were cops on the take?”
“Ben knows.”
“Why didn’t he do something about it?”
“Don’t you understand nothin‘?” Knuckles Russell demanded. “He was. He was gettin’ the evidence. That’s why those mothers smoked him. That’s why he be dead.”
“You’ve already named two-Deddens and Irwin. Are there others?”
“Ben says there be at least one more and when he finds him, maybe that’ll be the end of it.”
“Did he mention a name, give you any kind of a clue?”
“Somebody in the gang unit,” Knuckles Russell said softly. “He says somebody who all the time knows what’s goin‘ down.”
Somebody in the gang unit? Who could that be? I glanced at Ron, who was studying his watch. “I’ve got an idea,” he said, “It’s almost time, so let’s go to the funeral. I don’t know if Gary Deddens plans to attend or not, but my understanding is that as many people from Patrol as possible are coming as a group. Since Ben worked both places, I expect CCI will be there in force as well. If Deddens shows up, let’s cut him out of the herd in public, turn it into a media event. Once we do that, all we have to do is watch for a reaction from somebody in the gang unit.”