Walter Mosley - Bad Boy Brawly Brown

“Easy?”

“Yeah, babe?”

She stood up all naked and womanly. From her purse she took a Camel cigarette. She always carried a pack because she sometimes smoked with her girlfriends. She lit the cigarette, took a drag, and then put it between my lips.

She kissed my cheek and said, “You need to be calm out there, Mr. Rawlins. Give up smoking some other time.”

“Aren’t you upset about some woman calling me in the middle of the night?”

“No,” she said. “You wouldn’t give our number to some bird you took a fancy to. You wouldn’t hurt me like that. I am worried about someone pulling a gun on you, though.”

“He wasn’t serious,” I said. “Just tryin’ to show me who was boss.”

Liselle met me at the front door. She looked even older late at night. The flesh under her eyes hung down and her shoulders did, too.

But, weak and tired as she was, she grilled me before allowing me to set foot past the threshold.

“I don’t want you worrying her now, Easy,” Liselle said. “You know that girl has enough problems. And I don’t want you bringing her down just because you wanna help that broodin’ Brawly boy.”

“You know Brawly?” I asked.

“He been here. Yes, he has.”

“What do you know about him?”

“Just that he’s sullen and childish. Start talkin’ to anybody like they supposed to care how he feels. Told me that he liked me ’cause I wasn’t cold like his mother. I told him that it’s much easier for a stranger to be nice than a mother who got to listen to a boy’s boasting he’s a man while she washin’ the shit stains outta his drawers.”

I laughed. “What he say to that?”

“Just frowned an’ never even said hello to me again.”

“I won’t hurt Tina,” I said. “I promise you that.”

Liselle held my gaze with her drooping, watery eyes for a good five seconds before leading me into the old-fashioned parlor, where Tina was seated on a straight-backed walnut chair.

The young radical was wearing baggy blue slacks and a coral-colored top that was also loose-fitting. Tina had a small nose and medium brown skin. She was pretty because she was twenty, more or less. By thirty she’d be no more than handsome, and by forty she’d be considered plain.

But right then she held the strong attraction of vulnerability. She looked up at Liselle and me like some condemned prisoner hoping for a reprieve but expecting the worst.

“Here he is, baby,” Liselle said. “But if you don’t want to talk no more, just stand up and come in to me. Just come in to me.”

“Thank you, Miss Latour,” Tina said.

Liselle walked into her small apartment, leaving her door slightly ajar. I waited a moment before walking over and pushing the door closed. Then I came back to the chair across from Christina Montes.

“How are you doing?” I asked.

“Okay. But you know three of our brothers are still in jail. One’s in the hospital.”

“Why’d the cops break in on you like that?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Thanks for helping me get away.”

“No problem.”

“Conrad shouldn’t have put that gun in your face. Xavier says it’s because people think he looks white that he always feels he has to prove himself.”

“I’m not worried about him,” I said. “Liselle told you that I’m tryin’ t’help Brawly, right?”

“You told us that you were lookin’ for him in the car the other night.”

“Yeah, I forgot. Well, she told you that I’m all right, I guess.”

“She said that you could help people out if they’re in trouble but that I should be careful because you move with dangerous people.”

“I can’t argue about that,” I said. “But you put me to shame.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You got Conrad and Brawly stackin’ up guns with Brawly’s girlfriend—”

“Clarissa?” Tina was really surprised.

“No, the white one, BobbiAnne.”

“You got that wrong, Mr. Rawlins. Clarissa is Brawly’s girl,” Tina said. “He loves her.”

“I don’t know what the word is that he does to BobbiAnne, but she’s his girl, too,” I said with a great deal of authority in my voice.

“I don’t know anything about that or any guns, either. All I know is that Henry Strong is dead and I’m scared, scared for Xavier and the others.”

“What about Aldridge Brown?” I asked.

“What about him?”

“Did you know him?”

“Sure I know him. He’s Brawly’s father. A couple of times he bought us dinner at Egbert’s Coffee Shop.”

“So Aldridge was in the Party, too?” I asked.

“No. Really I don’t think he cared about politics. But he had a lot of trouble with Brawly when Brawly was a boy, and they were tryin’ to make up for it.”

“Do you think whoever killed Strong killed Brawly’s father?”

“The police killed Henry, but what do you mean about Mr. Brown?” If she was lying, she was a master at it.

“He was killed two days ago at a house owned by a woman named Isolda Moore.”

Tina shook her head slowly.

“Don’t you read the newspaper?” I asked.

“Why would I? It’s all lies anyway,” she said. “Why be blinded by white men’s lies?”

“Because you might read something that has something to do with you,” I said. “That’s why.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Mr. Rawlins. I’ve been staying at different friends’ houses since the night the cops busted up our meeting. Mr. Strong said that we should keep moving because the police had us all on a list and the leaders might be killed. I only came here tonight to get my stuff and move away. Miss Latour has always been kind and friendly. She told me I should talk with you, but really I don’t know anything about guns and murderers.”

“Why do you think the cops killed Strong?” I asked her.

“Because he’s so important to the movement. He told us that the police would try to eliminate our elite either by framing them or by assassination.”

Before I visited with Colonel Lakeland I would have sneered at the possibility of such a conspiracy; now, I didn’t know.

“What about Aldridge?” I asked. “Why would the cops kill him?”

“I don’t know. He never went to our meetings or anything. He just picked up Brawly sometimes and took us out for coffee.”

“But him and Brawly got along okay?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I mean, they had a bad history, like I said. But that was all worked out. You could tell that Brawly was still a little distant, though.”

I tucked her words away. It was a puzzle with too many pieces. Even if one thing seemed to fit, something else was left to the side.

“What about you and Strong?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Did he ever come by here without Xavier knowin’ it?”

“A few times. But there’s nothing wrong with that. Men and women are free to know each other and see each other and—”

“How much did you show to Mr. Strong?” I asked.

“What business is that of yours?”

“Because after this talk here I’m gonna ask you to go with me to see Xavier. I don’t wanna say anything that will make him so mad that he loses reason.”

“Why would I take you to Xavier, anyway?”

“I didn’t say I wanted you to take me to him. I know where he lives. On Hoover.” I told her the address. “What I need is for you to pave the way for a calm conversation. Now how are we going to be calm if in the middle of it, it turns out that you’ve been beddin’ the master?”

The intensity of Tina’s eyes told me that Liselle’s suspicions were right.

“It wasn’t nuthin’,” Tina said. “He was lonely down here and we liked to talk. One day he put his hand on the back of my neck...”