My first reaction was to look around to see if there was something that might save me but there was nothing except walls and furniture. Then I noticed something strange. The straight-back wood chair that I kept in the kitchen was pulled up to my sofa chair as if someone had used it for a footrest. I don't know why I concentrated on that; for all I knew Frank had pulled it out while I was still out of it.
'Hear me out,' I said.
'What?'
'I might could make it seven-fifty.'
'How a mechanic gonna get that kinda money?'
'Man wanna talk to a girl you know. Rich man. He pay that much just to talk.'
'What girl?' Frank's voice was almost a growl.
'White girl. Daphne Monet.'
'You a dead man, Easy,' Frank said.
'Frank, listen to me. You got me wrong, man.'
'You been nosin' all 'round after me. I been hearin' it. You even goin' where I'm doin' business and where I be drinkin'. I come back from my little business trip and now Daphne's gone and you in every hole I shit in.' His hard yellow eyes were staring right into mine. 'The cops lookin' fo' me too, Easy. Somebody kilt Coretta and I hear you was around 'fore she died.'
'Frank …'
He pressed the blade a little harder. 'You dead, Easy,' he said and then he shifted the weight of his shoulder.
The voice said, 'Don't cry or beg, Easy. Don't give this nigger the satisfaction.'
'Evenin', Frank,' somebody said in a friendly tone. It wasn't me. I could tell that it was real because Frank froze. He was still staring at me but his attention was at his back.
'Who's that?' he croaked.
'Been a long time, Frank. Must be ten years.'
'That you, Mouse?'
'You got a good mem'ry, Frank. I always like a man got a good memory, cause nine times outta eleven he's a smart man could 'preciate a tough problem. 'Cause you know I got a problem here, Frank.'
'What's that?'
Right then the phone rang, and I'll be damned if Mouse didn't answer it!
'Yeah?' he said. 'Yeah, yeah, Easy's here but he kinda busy right now. Uh-huh, yeah, sure. Could he call you right back? No? Okay. Yeah. Yeah, try back in 'bout a hour, he be free by then.'
I heard him put the phone back on the hook. I couldn't see past Frank Green's chest.
'Where was I… oh yeah, I was gonna tell ya my problem. You see, Frank, I got this here long-barreled forty- one-caliber pistol pointed at the back'a yo' head. But I cain't shoot it 'cause I'm afraid that if you fall you gonna cut my partner's throat. Thas some problem, huh?'
Frank just stared at me.
'So what you think I should do, Frank? I know you just itchin' t'cut on poor Easy but I don't think you gonna live t'smile 'bout it, brother.'
'Ain't none'a yo' business, Mouse.'
'I tell you what, Frank. You put down that knife right there on the couch an' I let you live. You don't an' you dead. I ain't gonna count or no bullshit like that now. Just one minute and I'm'a shoot.'
Frank slowly took the knife from my throat and placed it on the couch, where it could be seen from behind.
'Okay now, stand away and sit over in this here chair.'
Frank did as he was told and there was Mouse, beautiful as he could be. His smile glittered. Some of the teeth were rimmed with gold and some were capped. One tooth had a gold rim with a blue jewel in it. He wore a plaid zoot suit with Broadway suspenders down the front of his shirt. He had spats on over his patent leather shoes and the biggest pistol I had ever seen held loosely in his left hand.
Frank was staring at that pistol too.
Knifehand was a bad man but there wasn't a man in his right mind who knew Mouse who didn't give him respect.
''S'appenin', Easy?'
'Mouse,' I said. Blood covered the front of my shirt; my hands were shaking.
'Want me t'kill'im, Ease?'
'Hey!' Frank yelled. 'We hadda deal!'
'Easy my oldest partner, man. I shoot yo' ugly face off and ain't nuthin' you gonna say t'stop me.'
'We don't need t'kill'im. All I need is a couple of answers.' I realized that I didn't need Frank if I had Mouse on my side.
