laughed, some were shocked.
They took me to the desk sergeant, who handed me my wallet and pocketknife.
'We might be in touch with you later, Mr. Rawlins,' Miller said. 'If we have any questions we know where you live.'
'Questions about what?' I asked, trying to sound like an honest man asking an honest question.
'That's police business.'
'Ain't it my business if you drag me outta my own yard an' bring me down here an' throw me around?'
'You want a complaint form?' Miller's thin, gray face didn't change expression. He looked like a man I once knew, Orrin Clay. Orrin had a peptic ulcer and always held his mouth like he was just about to spit.
'I wanna know what's goin' on,' I said.
'We'll be coming 'round if we need you.'
'How am I supposed to get home from way out here? The buses stop after six.'
Miller turned away from me. Mason was already gone.
11
I left the station at a fast walk but I wanted to run.
It was fifteen blocks to John's speak and I had to keep telling myself to slow down. I knew that a patrol car would arrest any sprinting Negro they encountered.
The streets were especially dark and empty. Central Avenue was like a giant black alley and I felt like a small rat, hugging the corners and looking out for cats.
Every once in a while a car would shoot past. Maybe I'd catch a snatch of music or laughter and then they'd be gone. There wasn't another soul out walking.
I was three blocks from the station when I heard, 'Hey you! Easy Rawlins!'
A black Cadillac had pulled up beside me and matched my pace. It was a long automobile; long enough to be two cars. A white face in a black cap stuck out of the driver's window. 'Come on, Easy, over here,' the face said.
'Who are you?' I asked over my shoulder, then I turned to keep on walking.
'Come on, Easy,' the face said again. 'Somebody in the back wants to talk to you.'
'I don't have the time right now, man. I gotta go.' I had doubled my pace so that I was nearly running.
'Jump in. We'll take you where you're going,' he said, and then he said 'What?' not to me but to whoever his passenger was.
'Easy,' he said again. I hate it when someone I don't know knows me by name. 'My boss wants to give you fifty dollars to take a ride.'
'Ride where?' I didn't slow my stride.
'Wherever you want to go.'
I stopped talking and kept on walking.
The Cadillac sped on ahead and pulled onto the curb about thirty feet ahead of me. The driver's door swung open and he came out. He had to unfold his long legs from his chest to climb out from the seat. When he stood up I could see that he was a tall man with a thin, almost crescent face and light hair that was either gray or blond—I couldn't tell which by lamplight.
He held his hands out in front of him, about shoulder height. It was a strange gesture because it looked like he was asking for peace but I knew he could have grabbed me from that pose too.
'Listen here, man,' I said. I crouched back thinking that it would be easiest to take a tall man down at the knee. 'I'm goin' home. That's all I'm doin'. Your friend wanna talk, then you better tell'im to get me on the phone.'
The tall driver pointed behind with his thumb and said, 'Man told me to tell you that he knows why the police took you in, Easy. He says he wants to talk about it.'
The driver had a grin on his face and faraway look in his eye. While I looked at him I got tired. I felt that if I lunged at him I'd just fall on my face. Anyway, I wanted to find out why the police had taken me in.
'Just talk, right?' I asked.
'If he wanted to hurt you you'd already be dead.'
The driver opened the door to the back seat and I climbed in. The moment the door shut I gagged on the odors. The smells were sweet like perfume and sour, an odor of the body that I recognized but could put no name to.
The car took off in reverse and I was thrown into the seat with my back to the driver. Before me sat a fat white man. His round white face looked like a moon in the flashes of passing lamplight. He was smiling. Behind his seat was a shallow storage area. I thought I saw something moving around back there but before I could look closer he spoke to me.
'Where is she, Mr. Rawlins?'
''Scuse me?'
'Daphne Monet. Where is she?'
