Scratch turned to each corner of the room and bowled. More people cheered, hooted at him. Scratch felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and saw it was Dobro. They gazed at each other and no words were spoken until Scratch leaned in and hugged Dobro.
“Brother,” Scratch said.
Dobro laughed, hugged Scratch back. “Brother! Been too damn long!”
“I know, I know,” Scratch said.
“Let's get a drink,” Dobro pointed to a door with a sign stating keep out.
His office was under the staircase leading to the rooms the whores did their business and the theater where men paid a quarter to see films of people having sex.
“Wolfy! Going to my office!” Dobro yelled over top of loud chatter and driving guitar blues. A tall, bearded black man looked up. “Bring us a bottle of Tennessee!” Wolfy waved, and when he noticed Scratch, he laughed and pointed. Scratch smiled, pointed back. Wolfy came from behind the bar and handed two shot glasses to a woman in a red dress, said he'd see her in 10 minutes. She kissed Wolfy and turned to walk away, but was held up momentarily when Wolfy placed a hand up her dress. She laughed and wiggled more, looking over her shoulder at Wolfy.
Dobro unlocked the door to his office and flipped the light switch on. Nothing much to brag about. A desk, two chairs and a leather couch. The bookshelf behind the desk had lobby cards from all the movies Dobro had seen. Posters of Bogart and Mitchum plastered the walls. A framed autographed photo of Betty Grable sat on the desk with Cab Calloway and the Nicholas brothers.
“Have a seat,” Dobro said. He sat behind his desk. He opened a drawer, removed two large glasses and set them on the desk. “What brings you back to Darktown, brother?”
“Thought I'd see you and Immy,” Scratch said.
“How is your sister?”
“She's… OK.” Scratch shrugged.
There was a knock on the door. Dobro said to come in and Wolfy appeared on the threshold. He ambled over, set the bottle down, put a hand on Scratch's shoulder.
“I'm glad to see you, Scratch,” he said. Scratch patted Wolfy's hand and thanked him. “Took care of that business with Reverend Joe, boss.”
“Good, good.” Dobro opened the whiskey and poured it into the glasses. “Want a drink, Wolfy?”
Wolfy shook his head. “You know I don't drink booze these days, boss. Booze makes me mean.”
“All right,” Dobro chuckled and sipped from his glass. I know Jaunita is waiting for you. Ya'll use room three. It's cleanest.”
Wolfy nodded and went out of the office, closing the door behind him.
“You didn't come here just to see us,” Dobro said.
“No,” Scratch said. “I didn't.”
“You need my help,” Dobro extended his hand, sipped from his glass.
“I do,” Scratch said.
“Tell me what you need, Scratch. You know if I can help, I will. Drink up.”
“I really don't want any.” Scratch pushed the glass aside. “I need some of those pills you have.”
Dobro scoffed. “Bennies?”
“Yeah, those,” Scratch said.
“You sure about that, brother? When was the last time your head laid on a pillow?”
“I don't need sleep, Dobro,” Scratch said. “I need those pills.”
Dobro licked his lips. He opened another drawer, took out a black bottle with no label. He stared hard at Scratch, then tossed the bottle to him. Scratch caught it with one hand.
“You ought to play for the Dodgers,” Dobro chuckled. “OK. Tell me a story.”
“Got a problem with blackmail.” Scratch took the top off and poured a handful of pills into the palm of his hand. He chucked the pills in his mouth. Dobro watched in awe.
“A client, or Spiff has the problem?”
Scratch shook his head as he chewed the pills. “Me and Immy.”
“For what?” Dobro asked. He finished off the whiskey in his glass and started on Scratch's glass.
“What happened to our father,” Scratch said.
“That was a long a time ago,” Dobro said. “I don't even think anyone remembers that happening.”
“Somebody does.”
“You know who?”
Scratch took the letters from his jacket pocket and threw them toward Dobro. The papers fell on the empty glass. Dobro snatched the letters, eyeing Scratch. He read them in silence.
“Hmph! OK. You want five hundred from me? No sweat,” Dobro said. “I'll borrow it from your uncle.”
“Not paying,” Scratch said.
“Oh?”
“Not paying.”
“Then what?”
“I want you to help me get this blackmailer,” Scratch said.
“You didn't say who it was. Somebody from Darktown?”
“Too white.”
“Who is it, then? Shit, boy! Anybody teach you how to tell a story? You start at the beginning,” Dobro put the bottle in the top drawer, slamming it shut. He leaned across the desk, pointed a finger. “You want me to help you make this blackmailer disappear.”
“Yeah,” Scratch nodded. His eyes became wild. He could feel the pills working, like a lamp plugged into an electrical outlet, electricity hitting every nerve in his body.
“Tell me who it is, then,” Dobro ordered.
“Smell the paper,” Scratch told him.
Dobro did. He pulled his head away quickly. “Damn it! Coulda told me it was lye!”
“The blackmailer was trying to remove a stamp or a seal already on the paper,” Scratch said. “Look at the top right side. Hold it under a light.”
Dobro removed the lamp shade on the lamp on his desk. He turned it on and held it to the paper. He laughed, sat the lamp back in place, and the shade back on it. He stared at Scratch and smiled.
“Coleman county Sheriff's department,” Dobro said. “You're talking about wiping Rooster off the face of the earth and not thinking anyone would notice or care? Hell, your uncle has dealings with Rooster!”
“Not Rooster,” Scratch said. “Deputy Shaw.”
“That's another story.” Dobro raised an eyebrow.
“He wants to meet at the lake at 10pm tomorrow night.”
“Hmm…” Dobro thought about it. “What I can do is arrive with Wolfy much earlier from Darktown side.”
“Don't bring Wolfy. I don't want anyone else knowing about this,” Scratch said.
“OK.” Dobro shrugged. “I'll just come early. You arrive a
