Walter Mosley - Bad Boy Brawly Brown

John moved to stand against the wall on the other side of Chapman. He noticed that we had cut off his avenue of escape.

“I hear that Mercury quit,” I said.

“Yeah,” Chapman said. “Yeah, he sure did. Been threatenin’ to move down to Texas for so long that I guess he felt he had to do sumpin’ about it.”

“He left town?”

“That’s what he told me he was doin’.”

“But you his best friend,” John said. “Best friend should know for sure about his partner.”

“Have you called his house?” I added.

“He said he was goin’ to Texas, to look for work. Bought me a drink to say he was leavin’ the next day. Why I’ma call him if he supposed to be gone?”

“Supposed to be,” I said. “That mean you don’t believe him?”

“What is this? Some kinda police interrogation?”

“I was out at Mercury’s house the other day,” I said.

“So?”

“You know, that’s a nice house he got.”

“So?”

“Where do you live, Kenneth?” I asked the ex-burglar.

“Over on One-sixteen. The LaMarr Towers.”

“That’s projects,” I said in mock surprise.

“So what?”

“So how come you in the projects and Mercury got a house over in the nice part’a the slum?”

“He got some money from an uncle that died back in Arkansas.”

“Did you know his uncle?” John asked.

“Yeah. I went with him to the funeral.”

“Was he rich?” I asked.

“Rich enough to leave Mercury ten thousand dollars, I guess.”

“He bought the house for cash?” I asked.

“That’s what he said,” Chapman answered. I could see that an old suspicion was rekindled in his mind.

“I hear that they got extra police patrols because of thefts out around the sites,” I said.

“So what?”

“So maybe you two didn’t go as straight as you said you did.”

“You listen to me, Easy Rawlins,” Chapman lectured. “I put up my burglary tools right after you and Mr. Alexander got them men off’a us. I even took the five hundred you gave me and donated to my mother’s church. I already told you where Mercury said he got his money. That’s all I know.”

“When I was out to his place I asked him about you and Henry Strong and Aldridge Brown,” I said.

“Asked what?”

“Didn’t you use to hang out with Brawly and them?”

“We had drinks once or twice, but it was Mercury hung out with them. Why? What’d he say?”

“That you were thick as thieves with all three,” I said. “That they’d come and pick you up after work and you’d go off together.”

“That was him. Not me. No. I don’t like Aldridge, ’cause he’s a braggart. And Strong made you feel like he was keepin’ secrets. I don’t like a man like that. That’s why I never hung out with you, Easy.”

“How’s that?”

“Nobody ever know what you thinkin’,” Chapman said. “That day we went out to see them union men, we didn’t know that you was gonna bring Mouse along. And then when you made them pay us...I ain’t complainin’ about the help, but I knew right then you was too deep for me.”

“And you felt the same about Strong?” I asked.

“That’s right.”

“Why?”

“He had a way of gettin’ you to talk about stuff. Merc and me don’t like to brag that much about the old days, but the first night we saw Strong, Mercury started in on how when we were teenagers we’d break into candy stores. Strong wheedled it outta him. I was always too busy for drinks after I seen that.”

I glanced at Chapman’s plastering job. It was excellent. He used a circular motion of his knife to make every application neat and perfect. The swirls were all of equal size and depth. When he came back to level the wall, it would be just right.

“Blesta told me that you and Merc would go off and play snooker after work a few times a week,” I said.

“Used to,” Chapman said. “Used to, but we ain’t played in months.”

“Where you think he been goin’ lately?” I asked.

“Gettin’ his hambone greased,” Chapman said. He looked me in the face.

“Who wit’?”

“He never said a word about it,” Chapman replied. “I just knew by the way he was actin’ that he was gettin’ it on with some girl.”

Chapman looked me in the eye for a second and then he looked down.

“That all you got, Easy?” John asked me.

“Yeah.”

“Then I got a question,” the bartender said to Kenneth Chapman. “Why didn’t you tell me when Brawly’s father come around here?”

“Brawly’s a man, John,” Chapman replied. “I cain’t be workin’ with him and treatin’ him like a child, too.”

“Do you think Merc left town?” I asked Chapman.

“I don’t know.”

“You still don’t wanna help me after what I told you?”

“What you said is just talk, Easy. And talk is cheap.”

John walked me down to my car after our chat with Chapman.

“What you think about Mercury?” he asked me.

“Once a thief...,” I said.

“What’s that got to do with that group Brawly’s messed up with?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe nothing.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Maybe I been lookin’ at this whole thing wrong. Maybe you were right from the beginning. Maybe Brawly’s tied up with a bunch’a thugs and thieves.”

“What are they gonna steal?”

“If Mercury’s in it, it’s likely to be a payroll. There any big ones out around here?”

“Manelli,” John said. “They’re big and they pay once a month — in cash.”

“Oh yeah,” I said. “That’s the top of the list. You know when the next payday is?”

John just shook his head and scowled.

When i knocked on Mercury Hall’s door later that morning, I had my hand on the.38-caliber pistol in my pocket. Blesta opened the door as far as the guard chain would allow. She stuck her face into the crack and so did little Artemus two feet below.

“Boo!” the child said.

“He’s gone,” Blesta said.

“Say what?” I asked her.

“Down to Texas to get a job,” she said.

There were bags under her eyes and a strained quality to her voice.

“He said he’s gonna send for us,” she added.

“Can I come in?”

“I’m sorry, but no, Mr. Rawlins,” she said. “You know with Merc gone, I got to be careful.”

“Careful of me?”

Her stare was all the answer she offered.

“What’s wrong, Blesta?” I asked.

“Mercury told me not to talk to you,” she said. She was an honest young woman. The truth was a balm to her.

“Lotta men been sayin’ that about me lately. You think I might hurt your man?”

“Where’s Daddy?” Artemus asked. Maybe it was the first time he realized his father was gone.

“Not now, Arty,” Blesta said.

“You tell Mercury, when he calls you from the road, that I’m out here lookin’ for him. Okay?”

“I don’t think he’s gonna call for a few days,” Blesta said.

“Not till Sunday?” I asked.

Blesta nodded, though I believe it was against her will.

“Where’s Daddy?” Artemus asked in an anxious tone.

“If he calls you before then, you tell him what I said.”

Blesta looked down to avoid my gaze. She closed the door.

“Where’s my daddy?” Artemus shouted from behind the door.

I walked down to my car, hoping that Mercury really was on the road down South.

Isolda answered her shanty apartment door in nothing but a bathrobe. That was at eleven o’clock in the morning. I wondered how she managed to pay her nickel rent — or her dollar mortgage, for that matter.

When she smiled at me the questions in my mind dimmed somewhat. Sexual charm will do that to a man.