Thomas Cook - Streets of Fire

‘Sick,’ Langley answered dully. ‘He’s got a fever, so he didn’t come in.’ He glanced up and down the street, his face grim and oddly bitter. ‘If you worked this shithole,’ he said at last, ‘you’d get just like me.’

‘I thought you liked it.’

‘I do,’ Langley said, lifting his face proudly. ‘You know why?’ Cause I can do some good here. For my own damn race.’ He eased himself off the hood of the car, leaving a wide swath across its dusty, unwashed surface. ‘Well, that’s about all I got to say to you. I mean, you know how it is, a cop’s got to be on the street.’

Ben touched his arm. ‘Not yet,’ he said.

Langley stopped abruptly and turned toward him. ‘I meant what I said just now,’ he said grimly. ‘Don’t you ever make a move on me again.’

‘I took a look inside a little house this morning,’ Ben began.

‘What house?’

‘Little wood-frame thing, over on Courtland.’

Langley’s face turned rigid but he didn’t speak.

‘You know the one I’m talking about?’

Langley did not answer.

‘Sort of let go, the house,’ Ben went on. ‘No paint. A lot of crabgrass.’

Langley shifted nervously on his feet. ‘What about it?’

‘You don’t live there, do you?’

‘No.’

‘Why do you keep it?’

‘That’s my business.’

‘It’s some sort of headquarters, right?’ Ben asked.

‘I can think whatever I want to,’ Langley said bitterly. ‘I don’t have to account for it. And I’ll tell you something else. The niggers, they got some sympathy right now, but deep in every white man’s heart they’s just one truth. You know it, and I know it, and they’s not a white man on earth that don’t know it.’

‘What’s that, Teddy?’

‘A nigger is lower than a white man,’ Langley said authoritatively. ‘He’s closer to the monkeys. Nothing’s ever going to change that fact. Not Martin Luther King, or the Kennedy brothers, or you or Breedlove, or anybody else. Race is race, and that’s the end of it.’ He started for his car again, but this time Ben grasped his upper arm firmly.

‘I have to bring you back to headquarters, Teddy,’ he said.

Langley looked at him astonished. ‘Headquarters?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Why?’

‘Some people want to talk to you.’

‘What people?’

‘Captain Starnes,’ Ben said. ‘Me.’

Langley started to laugh, then abruptly stopped himself. ‘Because of that house?’ he asked with a laugh. ‘Shit, I don’t make no secret about how I feel. I know people don’t like some of the things I got in that house. Those pictures. I know that. But they’ll get used to seeing them. You know why? Because they like the ideas behind them. They know it’s the truth.’

‘I found a ring in your desk,’ Ben told him quietly. ‘Third drawer down.’

‘What desk?’

‘The one you have in that little house on Courtland.’

Langley looked at him quizzically. ‘Who told you about that place, anyway?’ he asked.

‘Breedlove told someone where he was going the night he was killed. He gave the Courtland address.’

Langley stared at Ben wonderingly. ‘He told somebody he was going over there?’

‘Yes.’

‘Was it you he told?’

‘No.’

‘But somebody told you, and you went over there to have a look around.’

‘That’s right.’

Langley laughed bitterly. ‘Shit, Ben, you do more than love niggers, you pimp for them.’

Ben felt his fingers draw more tightly around Langley’s arm. ‘I found a ring,’ he repeated. ‘It was wrapped up in a spool of electrical tape.’ He watched Langley’s eyes as he delivered the last line. ‘It belonged to Charlie Breedlove. He wore it the night he was killed.’

Langley’s face paled in a sudden realization. ‘So that’s it, then,’ he said quietly. ‘They’re going to pin it on me.’

‘Where were you the last night?’ Ben asked.

Langley looked at him mockingly. ‘What difference does it make?’

‘We’re talking about a murder,’ Ben said.

‘And so you want me to come up with some alibi?’

‘I want to know where you were.’

Langley shook his head. ‘It don’t matter. The niggers want me strung up. The big wheels want that, too. I embarrass them.’

‘Where were you?’ Ben repeated.

‘I was with Tod,’ Langley said determinedly. ‘He was sick last night, just like I told you. Had a fever. I tended to him all night.’

‘Did anybody else see you?’

‘No,’ Langley replied. ‘It was just me and Tod in his house. All alone. By ourselves. Just me and Tod. You figure anybody’ll believe that?’

Ben did not answer.

‘Hell, no,’ Langley said firmly. ‘Not a soul.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m already gone. They’ve already stuck me in the pen. Locked up tight.’ He smiled haughtily. ‘But I’ll tell you one thing, by God: when the people come back to their senses, I’ll be a goddamn hero. They’ll bring me out of jail on their shoulders.’

Ben tugged him forward toward his car. ‘Maybe so, Teddy,’ he said. ‘But not yet.’

THIRTY-SEVEN

Luther pounded his fist on the desk. ‘Goddammit, Teddy!’ he cried. ‘What is this about a house and crazy pictures on the walls and shit like that?’

Langley sat calmly in a chair across from Luther’s desk, his eyes shifting slowly from one face to the next.

Ben stood in the left corner by the window. Daniels leaned on the wall opposite him, his eyes watching Langley steadily.

‘What’s in that house, Teddy?’ Luther demanded.

‘You already know,’ Langley replied almost offhandedly. ‘Wellman’s already told you. You’ve already found everything you need.’

Luther leaned toward him menacingly. ‘Crazy shit, right?’

Langley said nothing.

‘Goddammit, Teddy, you know what this makes us look like?’ Luther demanded. ‘Like a bunch of idiots, morons!’

Daniels straightened himself from the wall. ‘I don’t give a shit about that house,’ he said. ‘But if you laid one goddamn finger on Charlie Breedlove, I’ll –’

Langley shook his head despairingly. ‘They’ll do it for you, Harry,’ he said. ‘They already have.’

Daniels stared at Langley threateningly. ‘Did you kill Charlie?’

‘No,’

Daniels stepped away from the wall. ‘Don’t you lie to me, Teddy. Charlie Breedlove was my partner.’

‘I didn’t lay a hand on Charlie Breedlove,’ Langley said coldly. ‘I figure the FBI did it. They been after all of us, sniffing around, trying to pin things on us.’

‘FBI, my ass,’ Daniels hissed. He scooped the ring from the top of Luther’s desk and pressed to within a few inches of Langley’s face. ‘You see this, Teddy? This was Charlie’s wedding ring. You know where Ben found it?’

Langley didn’t bother to answer.

Suddenly, Daniels stepped over and slapped his face. ‘Do you know where he found it, you little shit!’

Luther jumped to his feet. ‘Stop it, Harry,’ he shouted. ‘Give me that goddamn ring.’ He snapped it from Daniels’ fingers. ‘Where’d you get this?’ he demanded, his eyes bearing down on Langley.

‘I never seen it before,’ Langley said sullenly.

‘Harry already took it over to Mrs Breedlove,’ Luther said. ‘She identified it. She said it was definitely Charlie’s.’

Langley remained silent.

‘Where’d you get it, Teddy?’ Luther repeated.

Langley shook his head. ‘I never seen it before.’

Luther picked up the roll of electrical tape and held it in the air.

‘How about this? You ever seen this tape before?’

‘No.’

‘You didn’t buy it?’ Luther continued insistently. ‘It didn’t belong to you?’