Chester Himes - The crazy kill

Pony Boy came back to the kitchen to see if Johnny needed him, but Johnny was gone.

"That Chink Charlie," he said. "Death ain't two feet off him."

Alamena answered the door bell.

Chink said, "I want to talk to her."

She said, "You're stark raving crazy."

The black cocker spaniel bitch stood guard behind Alamena's legs and barked furiously.

"What are you barking at, Spookie?" Dulcy called in a thick voice from the kitchen.

Spookie kept on barking.

"Don't try to stop me, Alamena, I warn you," Chink said, trying to push past her. "I've got to talk to her."

Alamena planted herself firmly in the entrance and wouldn't let him by.

"Johnny's here, you fool!" she said.

"Naw, he ain't," Chink said. "I just left him at the club."

Alamena's eyes widened. "You went to Johnny's club?" she asked incredulously.

"Why not," he said unconcernedly. "I ain't scared of Johnny."

"Who the hell is that you're talkin' to, Meeny?" Dulcy called thickly.

"Nobody," Alamena said.

"It's me, Chink," he called.

"Oh, it's you," Dulcy called. "Well, come on in then, honey, or else go 'way. You're making Spookie nervous."

"Hell with Spookie," Chink said, pushing past Alamena and entering the kitchen.

Alamena closed the entrance door and followed him. "If Johnny comes back and finds you here, he'll kill you sure as hell," she warned.

"Hell with Johnny," Chink fumed. "I got enough on Johnny to send him to the electric chair."

"If you live that long," Alamena said.

Dulcy giggled. "Meeny's scared of Johnny," she said thickly.

Both Alamena and Chink stared at her.

She was sitting on one of the rubber-cushioned kitchen chairs with her bare feet propped on the table top. She was clad only in her slip, with nothing underneath.

"Cops," she said, coyly, catching Chink's look. "You're peeping."

"If you weren't drunk I'd give you something to giggle about," Alamena said grimly.

Dulcy took her feet down and tried to sit straight.

"You're just mad 'cause I got Johnny," she said slyly.

Alamena's face went blank and she looked away.

"Why don't you get out and let me talk to her," Chink said. "It's important."

Alamena sighed. "I'll go up front and watch out the window for Johnny's car."

Chink pulled up a chair and stood in front of Dulcy with his foot on the seat. He waited until he heard Alamena enter the front room, then suddenly went and closed the kitchen door, came back and took his stance.

"Listen to me, baby, and listen well," he said, bending over and trying to hold Dulcy's gaze. "You're either going to get me those ten G's you promised to Val or I'm going to lower the boom."

"Boom!" Dulcy said drunkenly. Chink gave a violent start. She giggled. "Thought you wasn't scared?" she said.

Chink's face became mottled with red. "Listen, I ain't playing, girl," he said dangerously.

She reached up as though she'd forgotten his presence and began to scratch her hair. Suddenly she looked up and caught him glaring at her. "It's just one of Spookie's fleas," she said. He began swelling about the jowls, but she didn't notice. "Spookie," she called. "Come here, darling, and sit on Mama's lap." The dog came over and began to lick her bare legs, and she picked it up and held it in her lap. "It's just one of your little black fleas, ain't it, baby?" she said, bending over to let the dog lick her face.

Chink slapped the dog from her lap with such savage violence it crashed against the table leg and began running about the floor yelping and trying to get out.

"I want you to listen to me," Chink said, panting with rage.

Dulcy's face darkened with lightning-quick fury and she tried to stand up, but Chink put his hands on her shoulders and pinned her in the chair.

"Don't you hit my dog, you mother-raper!" she shouted. "I don't allow nobody to hit my dog but me. I'll kill you quicker for hitting my dog-"

Chink cut her off. "God damn it, I want you to listen." Alamena entered the kitchen hurriedly, and when she saw Chink holding Dulcy pinned to her seat she said, "Let her alone, nigger. Can't you see she's drunk?"

He took away his hands but said furiously, "I want her to listen."

"Well, that's your problem," Alamena said. "You're a bar jockey. Get her sober."

"You want to get your throat cut again?" he said viciously.

She didn't let it touch her. "No damned nigger like you will ever do it. And I'm not going to watch out for more than fifteen minutes, so you'd better get your talking done in a hurry."

"You don't need to watch out for me at all," Chink said.

"I ain't doing it for you, nigger, you needn't worry 'bout that," Alamena said as she left the kitchen and went back to her post. "Come on, Spookie." The dog followed her.

Chink sat down and wiped the sweat from his face.

"Listen, baby, you're not that drunk," he said.

Dulcy giggled, but this time it sounded strained. "You're the one that's drunk if you think Johnny's going to give you ten grand," she said.

"He ain't the one who's going to give it to me," he said. "You're the one who's going to give it to me. You're going to get it from him. And you want me to tell you why you're going to do this, baby?"

"No, I just want you to give me time to brush off some of these hundred-dollar bills you see growing on me," she said, sounding more and more sober.

"There's two reasons why you're going to do this," he said. "First, it was your knife that killed him. The same one I gave you for Christmas. And don't tell me you've lost it, because I know better. You wouldn't carry it around with you unless you intended using it, because you'd be too scared of Johnny seeing it."

"Oh no you don't, honey," she said. "You ain't going to make that stick. It was your knife. You're forgetting that you showed me both of them when you told me that man down at your club, Mr. Burns, had brought them back from London and said one was for you and one was for your girl friend in case you got too handy with yours. I've still got the one you gave me."

"Let's see it."

"Let me see yours."

"You know damn well I don't carry that big knife around with me."

"Since when?"

"I ain't never carried it on me. It's at the club."

"That's just fine. Mine's at the seashore."

"I ain't joking with you, girl."

"If you think I'm joking with you, just try me. I can put my hand on my knife this minute. And if you keep pressing me about it I'm liable to get it and stick it into you." She didn't sound the least bit drunk any more.

Chink scowled at her. "Don't threaten me," he said.

"Don't you threaten me then."

"If you've still got yours, why didn't you tell the cops about mine?" he said.

"And have Johnny take the one I got and cut your throat and maybe mine too?" she said.

"If you're all that scared, why didn't you get rid of it?" he said. "If you think Johnny's going to find it and start chivving on you."

"And take a chance on you turning rat and saying it was my knife that killed him?" she said. "Oh no, honey, I ain't going to leave myself open for that."

His face began to swell, but he managed to keep his temper.

"All right then, let's say it wasn't your knife," he said. "I know it was but let's just say it wasn't-"

"All together now," she cut in. "Let's say bull."

"All right then, let's say it wasn't your knife," he said. [missing] to shake Johnny down for ten grand. I know that for sure."

"And what I know for sure is that you and me ain't been drinking out the same bottle," she said. "You must have been drinking extract of gold or U.S. mint juleps, the way you keep talking about ten grand."

"You'd better listen to me, girl," he said.

"Don't think I ain't listening," she said. "I just keep hearing stuff that don't make any sense."