Albright shrugged. 'No one knows. He was raised in an orphanage, in Jersey City. Drink?'
'Sure.'
'One of the benefits of working for yourself. Always have a bottle on the table. Everybody else, even the presidents of these big companies, got the booze in the bottom drawer, but I keep it right out in plain sight. You want to drink it? That's fine with me. You don't like it? Door's right there behind you.' While he talked he poured two shots into glasses that he had taken from a desk drawer.
The gun interested me. The butt and the barrel were black; the only part of DeWitt's attire that wasn't white.
As I leaned over to take the glass from his hand he asked, 'So, you want the job, Easy?'
'Well, that depends on what kind of job you had in mind?'
'I'm looking for somebody, for a friend,' he said. He pulled a photograph from his shirt pocket and put it down on the desk. It was a picture of the head and shoulders of a pretty young white woman. The picture had been black and white originally but it was touched up for color like the photos of jazz singers that they put out in front of nightclubs. She had light hair coming down over her bare shoulders and high cheekbones and eyes that might have been blue if the artist got it right. After staring at her for a full minute I decided that she'd be worth looking for if you could get her to smile at you that way.
'Daphne Monet,' Mr. Albright said. 'Not bad to look at but she's hell to find.'
'I still don't see what it's got to do with me,' I said. 'I ain't never laid eyes on her.'
'That's a shame, Easy.' He was smiling at me. 'But I think you might be able to help me anyway.'
'I can't see how. Woman like this don't hardly know my number. What you should do is call the police.'
'I never call a soul who isn't a friend, or at least a friend of a friend. I don't know any cops, and neither do my friends.'
'Well then get a—'
'You see, Easy,' he cut me off, 'Daphne has a predilection for the company of Negroes. She likes jazz and pigs' feet and dark meat, if you know what I mean.'
I knew but I didn't like to hear it. 'So you think she might be down around Watts?'
'Not a doubt in my mind. But, you see, I can't go in those places looking for her because I'm not the right persuasion. Joppy knows me well enough to tell me what he knows but I've already asked him and all he could do was to give me your name.'
'So what do you want with her?'
'I have a friend who wants to apologize, Easy. He has a short temper and that's why she left.'
'And he wants her back?'
Mr. Albright smiled.
'I don't know if I can help you, Mr. Albright. Like Joppy said, I lost a job a couple of days ago and I have to get another one before the note comes due.'
'Hundred dollars for a week's work, Mr. Rawlins, and I pay in advance. You find her tomorrow and you keep what's in your pocket.'
'I don't know, Mr. Albright. I mean, how do I know what I'm getting mixed up in? What are you—'
He raised a powerful finger to his lips, then he said, 'Easy, walk out your door in the morning and you're mixed up in something. The only thing you can really worry about is if you get mixed up to the top or not.'
'I don't want to get mixed up with the law is what I mean.'
'That's why I want you to work for me. I don't like the police myself. Shit! The police enforce the law and you know what the law is, don't you?'
I had my own ideas on the subject but I kept them to myself.
'The law,' he continued, 'is made by the rich people so that the poor people can't get ahead. You don't want to get mixed up with the law and neither do I.'
He lifted the shot glass and inspected it as if he were checking for fleas, then he put the glass on the desk and placed his hands, palms down, around it.
'I'm just asking you to find a girl,' he said. 'And to tell me where she is. That's all. You just find out where she is and whisper it in my ear. That's all. You find her and I'll give you a bonus mortgage payment and my friend will find you a job, maybe he can even get you back into Champion.'
'Who is it wants to find the girl?'
'No names, Easy, it's better that way.'
'It's just that I'd hate to find her and then have some cop come up to me with some shit like I was the last one seen around her— before she disappeared.'
The white man laughed and shook his head as if I had told a good joke.
'Things happen every day, Easy,' he said. 'Things happen every day. You're an educated man, aren't you?'
'Why, yes.'
'So you read the paper. You read it today?'
'Yes.'
