'No thanks.' I realized that we were whispering and asked, 'Is there anybody else here?'
'No,' she whispered, moving close enough for me to smell the soap she used, Ivory. 'I live alone.'
Then she reached out a long delicate hand to touch my face.
'You 'ave been fighting?'
'What?'
'The bruises on your face.'
'Nuthin'.'
She didn't move her hand.
'I could clean them for you?'
I put my hand out to touch her face, thinking, This is crazy.
'It's okay,' I said. 'I brought you twenty-five dollars.'
She smiled like a child. Only a child could ever be that happy.
'Thank you,' she said. She turned away and seated herself on the brown chair, clasping her hands on her lap. She nodded at the couch and I lowered myself.
'I got the money right here.' I went for my pocket but she stopped me with a gesture.
'Couldn't you take me to him? I'm just a girl, you know. You could stay in the car and I would only take a little time. Five minutes maybe.'
'Listen, honey, I don't even know you …'
'But I need 'elp.' She looked down at the knot of hands and said, 'You do not want to be bother by the police. I do not either…'
I'd heard that line before. 'Why don't you just take the taxi?'
'I am afraid.'
'But why you gonna trust me?'
'I 'ave no choice. I am a stranger 'ere and my friend is gone. When Coretta tells me that you are looking for me I ask her if you are a bad man and she says no to me. She says that you are a good man and that you are just looking, how you say, innocent.'
'I just heard about ya,' I said. 'That's all. Bouncer at John's said that you were something to see.'
She smiled for me. 'You will help me, yes?'
The time for me to say no was over. If I was going to say no, it should have been to DeWitt Albright or even to Coretta. But I still had a question to ask.
'How'd you know where to call me?'
Daphne looked down at her hands for maybe three seconds; long enough for the average person to formulate a lie.
'Before I gave Coretta her money I said that I wanted to 'ave it, so I could talk to you. I wanted to know why you look for me.'
She was just a girl. Nothing over twenty-two.
'Where you say your friend lives?'
'On a street above Hollywood, Laurel Canyon Road.'
'You know how to get there?'
She nodded eagerly and then jumped up saying, 'Just let me get one thing.'
She ran out of the living room into a darkened doorway and returned in less than a minute. She was carrying an old beaten-up suitcase.
'It is Richard's, my friend's,' she smiled shyly.
I drove across town to La Brea then straight north to Hollywood. The canyon road was narrow and winding but there was no traffic at all. We hadn't even seen a police car on the ride and that was fine with me, because the police have white slavery on the brain when it comes to colored men and white women.
At every other curve, near the top of the road, we'd catch a glimpse of nighttime L.A. Even way back then the city was a sea of lights. Bright and shiny and alive. Just to look out on Los Angeles at night gave me a sense of power.
'It is the next one, Easy. The one with the carport.'
It was another small house. Compared with some of the mansions we'd seen on the ride it was like a servant's house. A shabby little A-frame with two windows and a gaping front door.
'Your friend always leave his door open like that?' I asked.
'I do not know.'
When we parked I got out of the car with her.
'I will only be a moment.' She caressed my arm before turning toward the house.
'Maybe I better go with ya.'
