Black Betty

by Mosley, Walter

  “I want,” he said slowly, “you to back me up on this.”

  “On what?”

  He blinked again and squinted. Like most drunks he thought that if he took longer to think he’d come up with the thoughts of a sober man.

  “It’s got to be the woman. Sarah Cain. She’s the one going to lose everything. And so she throws her big money around and people start dying.”

  “Why not her son? He seems to get along with Hodge just fine. It could be him.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah. But it’s got to be one or both of them. But all we got to do is go down there and face them. Try to figure out what’s going on.”

  I was thinking about Marlon; about how he’d said that the cops had beaten him.

  “Why not just go to the cops?” I asked.

  “Do you know a cop you can trust?” he asked back. His brilliant eyes shone like some ignorant serpentine god’s. “There’s been two murders…”

  “Two?”

  “Albert Cain was killed too. The police made that plain. And now this Tyler-Eady boy. And when it comes to that much money, you and me are just a couple of grease spots. No. I want to know my P’s from my Q’s before I go to the police.”

  “Why should I care?” I said. “You the one came to me. All I got to do is to tell the cops that.”

  “How do you explain to the police that you were looking for Terry Tyler and then fighting with him just before he was found dead? Yeah. The cops told me about that.”

  Saul wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t trying to rub my nose in it. And I appreciated that, even though I didn’t take the threat seriously. I didn’t think that the cops could take me down for anything. I was worried about Betty, though. I didn’t want to allow those rich white people to murder her.

  “What you wanna do?” I asked Saul.

  “Go up to the house. Talk to the lady. Then we’ll see.” Saul got to his feet as if that meant it was time to go.

  But I held up my hand and said, “Hold on, man. I cain’t drive up there.”

  “Why not?”

  “’Cause of a man called Styles.”

  “Commander Styles?”

  “You know him?”

  “He’s done a lot of work for Hodge. One time when I got into a fix up in the Hills he helped me out. When we shook he grabbed me so hard that he broke one of the bones in my hand.” Saul cradled his right hand. “What’s Styles got to do with you?”

  “Hodge put him on me.”

  “Oh.” Saul felt his liquor then. Without me having to argue he sat back in his chair.

  “Coffee?”

  “Yeah. Yeah.”

  I went to the four-burner stove and heated some water. When the water boiled I took out a bottle of instant powder and a spoon and put them in front of him with one of my coffee mugs.

  “Milk and sugar?”

  “Like a good woman,” he answered.

  “Say what?”

  “Dark and sweet.”

  SAUL DOWNED FOUR CUPS of the stuff, drinking it until he thought he should have been sober.

  We decided that he would drive my car because there was more room in the back for my sore bones.

  I took a cotton sheet from the hamper to use as a cover should Saul be pulled over for some innocent reason. I figured that if I lay down in the leg space covered with the sheet a sloppy cop might not notice.

  “You been doin’ this kinda work a long time?” I wanted to talk in the car. Anything not to think about what I was doing.

  “Long enough,” he answered. Then after a pause, “At least I don’t have to punch in and kiss butt. At least when I don’t like how something smells I can take it out to the ash can.”

  “I didn’t say nuthin’,” I responded.

  “No. But you can see I don’t have much. But at least I got a little bit of pride. My family eats and the rent is paid. And if I decide that something is wrong I can do something about it. I don’t belong to a paycheck.”

  “You married?”

  “Yep. Met her down in Georgia when I was in the service. She worked in the PX.”

  I could hear his grin.

  “You in the war?” I asked.

  “Military police.”

  Sunlight moved to and fro across the backseat. It struck me that I’d never been in the backseat of the car. I had them vacuum it out at the car wash so I didn’t even clean back there. Here was a part of my life and property and I’d never even looked at it.

  “What about you?” Saul asked.

  “What?”

  “You married?”

  “Used to be. I got a letter last year sayin’ that the state of Mississippi granted my wife a divorce.”

  “Too bad.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” I was thinking about Sooky, Betty, and Martin. Which one of them had the perfect kind of life that Saul Lynx bragged about?

  After quite a while Saul said, “Here comes the gate.”

  I huddled down under my sheet and the car came to a stop.

  “Private,” a voice said. I couldn’t tell if it was the man from the other day.

  There was the rustling of papers then the voice said, “Security, huh?”

  “Yeah,” Saul answered. “Nasdorfs up on Fischer want something. Probably a burglar alarm for the kennel.”

  The men both laughed. Then there was silence for a minute.

  “Hey, um,” the guard said. “Any openings down at your company?”

  “Always room for a good man. You got a card?”

  “Uh, well, uh, no, not on me.”

  “Always have your card,” Saul chided. “That way the boss man knows you got the goods. But that’s okay this time. I’m not the boss. Write up your name, address, and position and I’ll pick it up on the way back down.”

  “Hey, thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  When we’d driven far enough away I asked, “Why’d you go through the gate? We could have taken side streets in.”

  “’Cause they got this unmarked car surveillance system up here. If they see a strange car they call it in to the gate. But now the gate knows we’re here. So it’s fine.”

  I was a fish out of his bowl.

  — 36 —

  YES? WHO IS IT?” Gwendolyn Eady said through the speaker in the gate.

  “It’s Easy, Gwen. Lemme in, willya?”

  I sat up when we passed the gate, taking Saul’s .38 from my pocket.

  “Here you go, man,” I said as I handed it over. There was a .32 in my other pocket. Small-sized death.

  THERE WAS A FIRE-ENGINE-RED ’57 Thunderbird parked in front of the house.

  “Oh!” Gwen said when she found two men at the door.

  “We need to talk, Gwen.”

  “Sarah’s very tired, Mr. Rawlins. I don’t think that it’s a good time to bring in people that she doesn’t know.” She came out of the door to keep us from going in.

  “This is important. It’s got to do with Betty and you.”

  She didn’t take my meaning. “Where’s Betty?”

  “She’s fine.” I was happy to see her relief. “Maude and Odell lookin’ out for her. But Terry’s gone.”

  Before that moment, Gwendolyn Eady was just a girl to me. But seeing the pain she felt for that wild boy, who she didn’t even know to call her brother, made me have respect for her as a woman. I knew right then that I would come calling if I survived. Even before she nodded, holding back the grief, I imagined her and Feather riding a bicycle down that rocky dirt road near the sea.

  She stepped aside and we came into the house.

  Arthur and Sarah were standing in the entrance hall. They both had dark circles under their eyes.

  “What is this?” Sarah Cain asked. “Where is Elizabeth?”

  “Where she’s safe from you,” I said.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that we’ve come here to set things straight.”

  “What are you talking about?” Arthur wanted to kn
ow.

  “He means,” Saul piped in, “that we know everything that happened and that we’re going to go to the cops with it. But first we wanted to give you a chance to explain yourselves.”

  “And who are you?” When Sarah’s straw-colored eyes blinked at Saul they reminded me of frail butterflies in the rain.

  “Saul Lynx, ma’am. I was employed by you, through Calvin Hodge, until I realized that I was being used for murder.”

  Sarah reached behind to grab hold of Arthur’s arm. Gwen drifted across the room toward them. They were the only family she knew, but she didn’t know that they really were related. Sarah and Gwen were half sisters.

  “Come into the sitting room,” Sarah said.

  We followed them down a long hall lined with suits of armor designed for tiny little men; even Saul towered over them. We reached a doorway that was flanked by two larger metal figures; maybe six feet each.

  “What’s this?” I asked. “Giants?”

  “After the plague,” Arthur said, distracted.

  “How do ya mean?” I asked.

  “The reason Europeans were so small back then was because of diet. They didn’t get enough meat, protein. After the plague there were lots of cows but hardly any people. So people grew bigger and some of the biggest ones put on armor.”

  I didn’t know if it was true, but it was a good story. I’d try it out on Jackson Blue if we both lived long enough.

  “Come in, gentlemen.” The sweep of Sarah’s arm introduced us to a large room. The ceiling hovered twenty feet above. From it was a chandelier adorned with crystal balls big enough to see back to the beginning of time. The clear crystal was surrounded by red and blue teardrop glass. The floor was covered with an off-white and thick carpet. The walls were a marbled tan. It was a room that cost more than I was ever likely to make in a lifetime. There was a stand of fifteen-foot palm trees against the far wall. On wheels so that they could easily be taken outside for the sun.

  The trees made the air fresh and friendly. But Mr. Lynx and I weren’t after friendship.

  We sat on a smoke-colored leather couch while the family members spread themselves out on chairs sheathed in wolf pelts, heads and all, that sat here and there.

  “So?” Sarah wondered out loud.

  “We know why Terry Tyler was killed,” I said.

  “Who is Terry Tyler?” Sarah asked me.

  “You know who he is,” I answered back. I could see the truth slowly dawning.

  “That boy who, who used to come play with Gwen?” Sarah was shaken.

  “What has that got to do with us?” Arthur said.

  “Arthur!” Arthur followed his mother’s stare to Gwendolyn, who was biting at her lower lip.

  “Sorry,” the boy said. He got up and went over to her. He even put his arms around her.

  “I’m sorry about the boy, but I really don’t see how you can think that has anything to do with us.” Sarah’s eyes were strong again. They bored into me.

  “But it’s not only him,” I said. “Marlon Eady has disappeared and Elizabeth is hiding in fear for her life.”

  At least I rubbed some of the arrogance off her face.

  “And it’s all because of your father’s will.” I was finished.

  The silence was profound. Arthur released Gwen. Sarah sat perfectly still except for the tremor up the back of her neck—keeping time with her wild heart.

  “It’s true, Mrs. Hawkes,” Saul Lynx said. “We have reason to believe that Elizabeth Eady and her immediate family are the heirs to your father’s estate. Somebody killed your father and then they found out about the will. That’s how we figure it.”

  “If…” She stammered for a moment and then halted. “If… that’s true, then you think it was me?”

  “You killed Terry,” I said, “her son, and now all that’s left is her daughter…”

  “No,” Sarah said, holding her hand up to stop my words.

  “…Gwendolyn.”

  “What?” Gwen asked. She wasn’t upset, just bemused.

  “We haven’t gone to the police, because there’s no proof, and when there’s no proof there’s no case. But…” Saul was at a loss for words.

  “But we know that you killed Terry and Marlon and that you plan to do in Gwen and Betty ’fore you through.” I was mad enough to pull out my pistol, but I didn’t. “But we’re not gonna stand for that.”

  “My mother? Betty?” Gwen shook her head.

  “Yeah.” I stood up to meet her. “Here you are treatin’ these white people like they loved you and when they just reapers cuttin’ down your real people like dead grass!”

  “Easy.” Saul was by my side. “Calm down.”

  “This is ridiculous.” Sarah Cain was up too. “Do you really believe that Arthur or I could go out killing people like that?”

  “I believe that Commander Styles could do it. I believe that Calvin Hodge could do it.”

  “It’s true? Oh my God!” Gwen put her hands to her face and backed away from everyone.

  “No, honey,” Sarah cried. But when she approached, Gwen fell down to the floor.

  “Uh-huh! Now she see the light. Now she sees.” I was ranting. Some deep hatred inside of me came out suddenly, evilly.

  “No!” Sarah yelled. “It’s not like that! We were only trying to help Betty.”

  “But it’s true about the will, ain’t it? It’s true that Gwen is Betty’s girl but you never let her know it.” I wanted Gwen to know, to see the truth.

  “We only wanted time to talk to Betty.” Sarah was crying now too. “She ran away and my father was dead…”

  “You thought that Miss Eady killed your father?” Saul asked.

  “She, she ran. And then we found him dead.” Sarah turned to Gwen. “That’s why Arthur called Styles. My father had had dealings with Commander Styles before, and, and we didn’t want any trouble for Betty. We wanted everything quiet. It wasn’t to hurt your mother, it was to keep her out of trouble. I had nothing to do with keeping secrets from you. That had to do with Betty and my father.”

  “Betty killed Cain?” The wind was out of my sail.

  “Who’s my father?” Gwen asked.

  Nobody answered.

  Right then a bell rang. It was the kind of buzzing bell that schools have to indicate the passing period between classes.

  “I’ll get it,” Gwen said, comforting herself in the role of a maid. She pulled herself to her feet and staggered away toward the hall.

  No one moved to stop her.

  “So.” Saul started thinking out loud. “You got Hodge and Styles in here to take care of anything, um, nasty. But then they find out that you’re broke, that the murderer, if there was a murder, has inherited the money.” He pushed out his lower lip and nodded, appreciating the complexity of the crimes. “If it was just her, if she was the only heir, then all they’d have to do would be to turn her in. But since it’s her whole family the court might rule that they get the pie.”

  “No!” Sarah Cain was ready for another round. “No! That’s not it! That’s not what happened! I wouldn’t hurt Betty. She’s like my mother.”

  “But that could still make sense,” Saul said. “Sure it could. Hodge and Styles want their piece, and the way they see it is that all Eadys have to go. They don’t need you to tell them that.”

  “Calvin didn’t come to me until after Father died,” Sarah Cain said. “Somehow he’d found out about the will. Father had fired him and taken on a new lawyer, his old business partner Bertrand Fresco. Calvin said that we’d better find Betty and talk to her. That’s all I wanted to do.”

  “Sure, sure you did. We believe you.” Saul touched my arm to include me in his generosity. “But they knew that these people were going to lay claim to your fortune. They’d lose whatever you promised plus the blackmail they’d get later on—I mean if there was a murder and then a cover-up.”

  I had to admit that Lynx made sense. But there was something wrong, something I wasn’t sure ab
out.

  “Did Betty kill your father?” I asked straight out.

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “He was suffocated. He was really suffering. Maybe she just wanted to help him.”

  The sorrow in her face forced a sudden truth in my heart. I came to a decision that I knew would follow me down into my grave.

  The hurt must have shown in my face. Sarah mistook my deadly decision as having something to do with her. She said, “You see? You understand, Mr. Rawlins.”

  “I don’t understand a damn thing. What I wanna know is what’s goin’ on. ’Cause if you so worried ’bout Betty and her family, then why didn’t you tell Gwen about all this?” I looked around but Gwen hadn’t returned yet.

  “I was going to tell her. I was. It’s just that it was such a shock. A terrible shock. You can understand that, can’t you? He’d made sure that Gwen never found out about him.”

  “Why’s that, Mrs. Hawkes?” Saul asked.

  She looked at him as if he had just peed on the floor. “She’s Negro. He couldn’t let people know about that, not if she was still living in the house. That would be as if he recognized her.”

  “Bastard,” Saul said through clenched teeth.

  “And he had to keep her,” I said. “Because Betty would have left if he tried to take her girl.”

  “Why didn’t she just leave anyway?” Saul asked.

  “We’re a family here, sir,” Sarah said. “She was afraid. Everybody in the house was afraid of him. He had an awful lot of power. Betty didn’t want to leave Arthur and me alone. She took over for us after my mother died.”

  “Where’s the girl?” Saul asked.

  “She answered the gate. Maybe it was a delivery,” Arthur said. I noticed that he’d turned a grim shade of green.

  “Gwen!” Sarah shouted. She went to the door and yelled down the hall, “Gwen!”

  “It’s just a delivery, Mother,” Arthur said. He was at a chrome-and-glass standing bar that came out from the wall, adding things to a tumbler of gin, or vodka.

  “Let’s go look,” Saul said, and it struck me that this careful little man was like me, that he lived his life on hunches. Hunches are a desperate man’s way to hope.