‘Now don’t move!’ Coggins squealed. He dug the barrel of the pistol deep beneath the other man’s chin. ‘You tell them not to move, motherfucker,’ he shouted.
The man lifted his arms slowly, then let them drop, and as he did so, the others moved back slightly.
Coggins glanced back and saw Ben pressing the man against the wall. He looked at him imploringly.
Desperately, Ben tried to come up with a next move. Then, suddenly, a deep sonorous voice broke over him from the rear of the room.
‘Now what you boys gone do?’
Ben’s eyes searched the room until they settled on a huge figure which stood in a small doorway on the right side of the room.
‘You remember me?’ the figure said.
Ben squinted into the thick gray light, trying to bring him into focus.
‘Gaylord,’ the man said. Then he stepped forward into a shaft of light and Ben saw the little purple stud-pin wink brightly in the shadowy darkness.
Gaylord walked to the front of the room. For a moment he looked very grim. Then a smile swept over his face. What you gone do?’ he asked Ben. ‘Strangle poor ole Jackie to death?’
Ben released his grip somewhat, and Jackie broke away, gasping.
Gaylord continued to watch Ben closely. ‘You sure do end up in the most ridiculous places,’ he said. ‘You still checking on that girl?’
‘Yes.’
Gaylord stared at him expressionlessly. ‘Why don’t you tell your buddy to let Albert go.’
Ben nodded to Coggins.
Coggins looked at him wonderingly. ‘You sure?’
‘Let him go,’ Ben said.
Coggins pulled the pistol from the man’s chin, and Albert stumbled backward against one of the tables.
‘Now we all can talk like nice folks,’ Gaylord said lightly. ‘Why don’t you come on back to my office.’
The men at the tables parted immediately as Gaylord walked through them. Ben and Coggins followed along behind him until they were in a small cluttered office at the back of the hall.
Gaylord closed the door, then took a seat behind a plain metal desk. ‘You shouldn’t pull something like this again,’ he said. ‘You could get yourself hurt real bad.’ He glanced at the pistol, which was still dangling from Coggins’ hand. ‘Why don’t you put that away, boy,’ he said.
Coggins glanced at the pistol, as if surprised to find it still in his hand. He quickly tucked it into his belt.
‘Now that’s a lot more friendly,’ Gaylord said cheerily. He looked at Ben. What’d Mr Jolly tell you?’
‘Nothing,’ Ben said. ‘He wanted money.’
Gaylord laughed. ‘He got more than he could spend in two more lifetimes, but he still want more.’ He leaned back slightly, and the springs in his chair squeaked painfully under his shifting weight. ‘He own this poolhall,’ he said, ‘but I runs it for him.’ He looked at Coggins. ‘Who you, boy? You don’t look like you from Bearmatch.’
‘Ensley,’ Coggins said in a whisper.
A sly smile slithered onto Gaylord’s lips. ‘Ensley? You a long way from home, son.’
Coggins said nothing.
‘You gone be the first nigger policeman, or what?’
Coggins pulled himself to his full height. ‘I don’t think the man who killed that little girl should go unpunished, he declared.
Gaylord didn’t buy it. ‘That right? Well, lemme see, what if I done it? How you gone punish me?’
Coggins did not answer.
Gaylord stared at him smugly. ‘You got a big mouth for such a little ole pecker, boy.’ He turned back to Ben. ‘Now you and me, maybe we can talk,’ he said.
Ben took out the ring and handed it to him. ‘Doreen had this in her pocket when we found her.’
Gaylord studied the ring. ‘Doreen? That the little girl?’
‘Yes.’
‘Doreen Ballinger?’
‘That’s right.’
Gaylord nodded and handed Ben back the ring. ‘She deaf, right?’
‘Yes.’
Gaylord shook his head. ‘That’s not right, kill a little deaf girl.’
‘No, it’s not,’ Coggins said loudly.
Gaylord ignored him. ‘I seen that ring before,’ he said evenly.
Ben leaned forward instantly. ‘Where?’
‘I know the guy that used to wear it,’ Gaylord said casually. ‘He made like it was something real nice, like it was a diamond or something.’
Ben reached for his notebook and opened it. ‘Who?’
‘Don’t know his real name,’ Gaylord said, ‘but I recognize the ring. Ugly, cheap ole thing.’ He smiled. ‘You looking for a big man,’ he said. ‘Even bigger than ole Gaylord.’
‘I know,’ Ben told him.
‘He big,’ Gaylord added, ‘but he harmless. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.’
‘But you don’t know his name?’ Ben asked.
‘It’s like I said before,’ Gaylord told him. ‘He ain’t got no regular name. But everybody call him Bluto, ’cause he so big and such.’
‘Where does he live?’
‘Well, I hear tell he ain’t got no house.’
‘He must live somewhere.’
Gaylord laughed. ‘Way I hear it, he live in a pipe.’
‘Pipe?’
‘One of them big old pipes around the rubber plant.’
‘A storm drain?’ Ben asked unbelievingly.
‘That’s right.’
‘When did you see him last?’ Ben asked.
Gaylord’s eyes rolled toward the ceiling. ‘He was in here late Sunday. He come in most everyday.’
‘And plays pool?’
‘That’s right?’
‘Where does he work?’
Gaylord laughed. ‘Aw, he don’t work. He do a few little errands over in Bearmatch. Little of this, little of that. But he don’t have no regular job.’
‘Well, where does he get the money to play so much pool?’
Gaylord looked as if it had never occurred to him.
‘He has to get it from somewhere,’ Ben said insistently.
‘Guess so,’ Gaylord said.
‘How about friends, relatives?’
‘Ain’t got none, far as I know.’
‘Then he must have a job.’
‘Naw,’ Gaylord said with certainty. ‘He couldn’t have no regular job.’
‘How do you know?’
‘’Cause he ain’t got enough sense for a regular job,’ Gaylord said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘He like a child,’ Gaylord repeated. ‘You know, in his head.’
‘Retarded?’ Coggins blurted suddenly. ‘You mean, mentally retarded?’
Gaylord looked at him. ‘Yeah, like that. He like a little bitty child. Ain’t a speck of meanness in him.’
TWENTY-TWO
