'You're the only one that knows where the money comes from?'
'Yes.'
'How'd it start?'
Winston stared out through the glass at Commonwealth Avenue. 'The first donations were anonymous,' he said in a flat soft voice. 'Big donations when we were struggling to get a foothold. Life-saving donations.'
'Seed money,' I said. 'It's the same way they develop a junkie.'
'Then one day Mickey Paultz came and called on me. He introduced himself, explained that he'd been the anonymous contributor, and made another donation. In cash, always cash. No strings. That continued for a while and then he came again and asked for a loan. I was sorry, embarrassed even, but I explained to him that I'd spent all of his donation money on church business. He said that was understandable, that he'd give me a very large donation and ask me to lend that to him. I was puzzled. Naive, I suppose, but I couldn't see why he'd want to do that. He insisted, and I said that I had never seen anything done like that, and that I felt I should consult an attorney before I did it.'
Winston paused and hunched his shoulders a little.
'Then Paultz explained it to me. He told me where the money came from and why he had given it to me and said that I'd be through if people knew it was dirty money.'
'And?' I said.
'And there'd be no more donations if I didn't go along.'
I nodded. 'Hard to give up,' I said. 'The church, the power, the home, the car, the deacons, the whole thing.'
'I couldn't,' Winston said. 'I couldn't give it up. I'd created it, built it, made it work, made it flourish. I couldn't.'
We were both quiet until the phone rang. I answered. It was Hawk.
I said, 'I need a body guarded. Can you take the first shift while I work up some more troops?'
'Winston?'
'Yes.'
'Paultz?'
'Unh-huh.'
'Wondered when you'd think of that,' Hawk said. 'I be along.'
When I hung up, Winston looked at me and licked his lips. 'What is this about a bodyguard?'
'You're the only one who can tie Paultz to this,' I said. 'He'd sleep better if you were dead.'
Winston said, 'Oh, my dear God.'
'It's all right,' I said. 'Hawk will keep you safe for now, and I'll arrange with a man I know to give you round- the-clock protection.'
'Is Hawk the Negro who told me Paultz had to see me?'
'Yes.'
'The one who was with you when you took the pictures?'
'Yes.'
'He'll guard me alone?'
'He could guard Yugoslavia alone,' I said.
'I could have some deacons come.'
I shook my head. 'If there's trouble, they'll just get hurt,' I said.
Winston nodded. There was no resolve left in him. He was scared and it made him weak. In ten minutes Hawk showed up at the front door carrying a leather gun case and a Nike gym bag. He nodded at Winston, took a box of 12-gauge shotgun shells from the gym bag and set them on the table, put a box of .357 shells beside them, unzipped the gun case, took out an Ithaca shotgun, loaded it, and leaned it against the table. Then he looked around the room.
'Good place to get shot from the street,' he said.
I nodded. Winston seemed to sink back deeper into his chair. He looked smaller than he had when I'd first met him.
'Let's find an inside room,' Hawk said. He put his ammunition back into the gym bag. Picked up the shotgun.
I said, 'I'm going out and work on things. I'll be back to give you a break.'
Hawk nodded. Winston looked at me as if I were his father leaving him at a strange nursery school. 'Do what Hawk says,' I told him. 'You'll be fine.'
He nodded. I left him with Hawk and let myself out the front door.
I went to my office and called Vinnie Morris. He wasn't there. I asked for Joe Broz. There was no one by that name there. Which was a crock, but Joe had always been shy. I left word for Vinnie to call me and hung up and sat.
