Thomas Cook - Streets of Fire

‘No.’

‘It looks like the same kind of tape that was wrapped about Breedlove’s hands,’ Luther said.

Langley’s eyes shifted slowly to the right, settling on Ben’s. ‘I never saw that tape. I never saw that ring. The niggers are doing this. Them and their big-wheel friends.’

‘Niggers?’ Luther cried. ‘You think they killed Breedlove?’ He laughed. ‘You’re up to your neck in bullshit, Teddy. You’re spilling over with it.’

Langley drew his eyes away from Ben, then let them drift back to Luther. ‘You going to arrest me?’

‘You got a reason I shouldn’t?’

‘I was with my brother.’

‘That may be true, Teddy,’ Luther replied icily. ‘But the question is, where were the two of you?’

‘We was in our trailer, that’s where we was.’

‘It probably took two people to hang Breedlove up the way he was,’ Luther said accusingly.

‘Me and Tod, right?’ Langley said with a snide laugh. ‘That’s the way you figure it?’

‘It’s beginning to look that way.’

Langley tightened his lips. His eyes returned to Ben, but he did not speak.

‘Where’s Tod now?’ Luther demanded.

‘At home.’

‘Home, or that little dump you got over on Courtland?’

‘Home,’ Langley said. ‘You know, the trailer.’

‘And I guess he’ll say you two were together all night?’

Langley nodded.

‘And that you were in the trailer?’

‘That’s right,’ Langley said. ‘He was sick. He had a fever. He’s my brother, and so it’s my job to see after him when he’s feeling bad.’

Daniels stepped over to face Langley. ‘Let me tell you something, Teddy,’ he said. ‘If you hurt Charlie, I’m going to deal with you myself. ’

Langley stared coldly into Daniels’ face. ‘I didn’t lay a finger on your asshole buddy,’ he spat, ‘but Breedlove was a goddamn informer, and it don’t surprise me a bit that he ended up dead.’

Instantly, Daniels raised his hand to strike Langley, but Luther grabbed his hand. ‘You want your job, Harry, you let me handle this.’

Daniels’ hand trembled in place for a moment, then lowered slowly. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘You’re right, Captain.’

Luther let go of Daniels’ hand, then turned to Ben. ‘Go over and check on Tod,’ he said. ‘See what he has to say.’

Ben nodded quickly, then stepped toward the door.

‘Oh, by the way,’ Luther said, ‘you forgot this when you left this morning.’

Ben turned around in time to see Luther toss his badge toward him from across the room.

The Langleys’ trailer sat on plain gray cinderblocks at the back corner of the lot. Other trailers were scattered across the bare ground, their doors and windows flung open against the baking heat. A few work shirts and tattered bedsheets hung from the communal clothesline at the opposite end of the field, and beyond it, Ben could see a rusty set of swings and a crude seesaw.

Tod Langley opened the door slightly, and Ben could see a single eye peering at him from the darkness behind it.

‘I need to talk to you, Tod,’ he said.

‘Me?’ Tod asked surprised. ‘Where’s Teddy?’

‘He’s still on duty,’ Ben told him.

Tod still did not open the door. ‘Well, I don’t know,’ he said, hesitant, an edgy fear in his voice. ‘I mean, after the way you done with Teddy, I –’

‘It’s not about that,’ Ben assured him.

‘Well, what is it then?’

‘It’s about Charlie Breedlove.’

‘What about him?’

‘I’m checking on a few things.’

‘It ain’t got nothing to do with me.’

Ben could feel himself growing increasingly impatient as he continued to stand in the steamy summer air. ‘Let me in, Tod,’ he said finally. ‘This is department business and I don’t have time to argue about it.’ He pressed his hand against the door and felt it give way as Tod drew back.

Tod had already dropped into the small chair a few feet from the door, and for a moment Ben simply stood, his body framed in the doorway, and let his eyes adjust to the darkened room.

‘Me and Teddy keeps everything closed up,’ Tod explained. ‘On account of being cops, you know?’

Ben stared at him quizzically.

‘Grudges, I mean,’ Tod explained. ‘People out to get us.’

Large sheets of tinfoil had been taped to all the windows, and they gave the room an eerie look of utter isolation, of something cut off from the outside world.

‘It’s for pictures,’ Tod said. ‘All this tinfoil, I mean.’

‘Pictures?’ Ben asked. ‘You take pictures?’

‘It’s against pictures,’ Tod explained. ‘Against getting them taken of you. You put tinfoil on your windows, can’t nobody see inside, can’t nobody take no pictures.’ He leaned forward conspiratorially. ‘Like the federal boys, you know? I mean, the FBI.’ He laughed idiotically. ‘They’d take a picture of a man on his shitter if they thought they could use it against him.’

Ben leaned against the doorframe. ‘Why would the FBI be interested in taking pictures of you, Tod?’

‘Some things I believe,’ Tod said. ‘It makes them mad.’

‘What things?’

‘About the niggers, mostly,’ Tod said with a sudden casualness. He leaned forward. ‘I mean, you know how it is with the niggers, they all got –’

Ben waved his hand quickly to silence him. ‘Look, Tod, we have a serious problem in the department. It has to do with Breedlove, with his murder.’

Tod sat back slightly but he didn’t speak.

‘Do you know about this little house on Courtland?’ Ben asked.

Tod glanced away fearfully.

‘I was in there,’ Ben went on. ‘I found a few things that could cause some people a lot of trouble.’

‘You mean Teddy? Cause Teddy trouble?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Me, too?’

Ben nodded.

‘Well, I don’t see how,’ Tod said in a tightly drawn voice. ‘I mean, we got a right to our beliefs, right?’

‘Your beliefs don’t matter,’ Ben said.

‘Well, what are you talking about then?’ Tod asked quickly. ‘Them pictures.’ He laughed nervously. ‘Ain’t they funny?’

Ben didn’t answer.

Tod’s voice took on a desperate edginess. ‘Listen, Ben – I wouldn’t say this in front of Teddy, but with me it’s just sort of a game, you know?’

‘A game?’

‘Like playing army, you know, like when we was boys. ’

Ben let him go on.

‘Like playing,’ Tod sputtered. ‘I mean, it’s nothing for anybody in the department to worry about. I just got them pictures and stuff— and sometimes I play with the guns a little.’ He shook his head vigorously. ‘But it ain’t real. It’s just for fun, that’s all.’

‘Where were you last night, Tod?’ Ben asked sternly.

Tod looked at him, puzzled. ‘Last night?’

‘That’s right.’

Tod continued to stare at Ben, questioning. ‘Well, I was right here in the trailer,’ he said. ‘I was sick. I was running a fever.’

‘Where was Teddy?’

‘He stayed with me. We’re family. We all that’s left of our family.’

‘Did either one of you leave the trailer?’

Tod shook his head.

‘Did anybody come to visit you?’

Again Tod shook his head.

‘Did anybody see the two of you in here?’ Ben asked.

Tod laughed fearfully. ‘Well, nobody could do that, right? I mean, I got all this tinfoil on the windows.’

Ben watched him gravely, his eyes bearing down. ‘Think, Tod,’ he said. ‘Did anybody at all see you and Teddy last night?’

Tod did not answer. He leaned forward again, this time running his fingers through his hair. ‘What is all this, Ben? What’s last night got to do with anything? Was some other little nigger killed or something?’