‘What same name? Why don’t you try to make sense?’
‘Her name is Frances Sedziaski. How could I know she was his sister?’
‘For Christ sake, you didn’t know that was his name too? It even means “judge” in Polish. He only started calling himself Judge when he took over the column!’
‘I didn’t know that! How could I know if nobody told me!’
‘You didn’t know anything at all, but you went out and killed him?’
He wasn’t getting the idea at all. He just wasn’t getting it. I said, ‘I saw the way he beat up my father and I had to kill him. Because I didn’t know what my father did.’
‘How did Judge find out what your father did? What was it anyhow? Rape?’
‘No! Frances was in love with my father! She was crazy about him!’
‘Well, for Christ sake, what happened? Did she tell Judge? Did he catch them together?’
I didn’t know how to answer that. ‘Maybe he found out when Frances died.’
‘Died!’
‘She died from an A.B. That was when he must have found out. When she died from the A.B.’
Tanya said, ‘That’s awful. Oh, that’s awful,’ but Dr Cooper didn’t even listen to her. He said, ‘Where did you find all this out?’ like he didn’t believe me.
I said, ‘I was in a closet. After I killed him, I was in a closet and I heard people talking!’
He came close to me with his lips pulled back like a dog getting ready to fight. ‘That’s a lot of bull, isn’t it? But you think if you get me involved, I’ll fix up your story for you. Is that what you’re looking for?’
‘It isn’t bull! Honest to God, it isn’t!’
‘Then what did you come here for? You kill a man and then come running back to me! What do you want to get me mixed up in this for?’
He grabbed my overcoat and twisted it so tight that it cut into my chest and I was afraid to pull away. I said, ‘Honest to God, I don’t want to get you in trouble. I don’t want to get you in trouble, Dr Cooper,’ but he kept pushing me to the front door and he wouldn’t listen, and Tanya only stood there with that big scratch down her face and looked at me.
He said, ‘I’m telling you this, and, God damn it, get it into your head. You don’t know me. You don’t know me and you never saw me before in your life!’
The way he had me pushed up against the door I could hardly move, but I wouldn’t let him get his hand on the doorknob. I yelled, ‘You’ve got to let me stay here! You can’t chase me away! You’ve got to let me stay here!’
‘I’m giving you the biggest break of your life by not turning you over to the cops right now! Open that door, and start going.’
‘You’ve got to let me stay here!’
‘If you drag my name into this I’ll kill you myself. Do you understand? I’ve got a wife upstate, and I don’t want to do any explaining to her. And a job I’d be fired from tomorrow if this came out. Do you understand that?’
Tanya was standing in the middle of the room, and she wasn’t looking at me any more. She was looking at Dr Cooper and you could see from the way she was breathing that she was mad. She said, ‘Is that what’s bothering you? Go on, Lloyd, tell me. Is that what’s on your mind? That pretty little wife with the big eyes, and that wonderful job you’re so happy about?’
He let go of me all of a sudden and turned around to her. ‘Do you think I’m wrong if I don’t want ten years of my life blown up by a crazy kid?’
She said, ‘No. No, but you want to watch yourself when you’re drinking, Lloyd. That publicity job Olsen has waiting, that divorce, they all came out of the brandy bottle. Didn’t they, Lloyd?’
‘For Christ sake, Tanya! This isn’t the time to start that!’
‘You were lying all along, weren’t you?’
‘No, I wasn’t. I meant everything I said. But it takes time. You just don’t rush into things like that!’
‘You’re a riot, Lloyd. I don’t rush into things like that. I’ll be dead and gone before they happen.’
He went over and tried to get hold of her, but she pushed him away. He said, ‘For Christ sake, Tanya!’
‘Get away from me!’ she yelled. ‘Get out of here!’
‘Tanya!’
‘Get your clothes and get out of here! And stay away from me!’ She pointed at me. ‘And you get out of here too before I call the cops!’
Dr Cooper was still trying to get hold of her, and he was yelling, ‘Don’t you understand? I’m set! I can’t take a chance!’ and then Tanya hit him as hard as she could right across the face.
‘Get out of here! Both of you! Get out of here!’
Even on the other side of the door after I got it closed again, I could hear her yelling that.
Chapter Seventeen
I WAS afraid to go outside. I got as far as the little hall where the mailboxes were, and I waited there. There was a thin curtain over the front door, like a mosquito net, and I could look through it without anybody seeing me. Three or four times the street looked empty and I started to open the door, but then somebody would come along and I shut it quick.
I thought if only Al Judge would come alive again everything would be all right. Jesus Christ made a dead man come alive once, and if He would do that for me, I would never do anything wrong again. I would never even think anything wrong. I would be like a saint. I would only do good things, and if they wanted to burn me in a fire or cut me up on account of it, that would be all right.
The curtain smelled all dusty and old when I had my face against it, but I was crying and it felt better that way. I had it all straight in my mind. I would go into the first church I came to and tell the priest everything that happened. I wouldn’t go to St Theresa, because they knew me there, but any other church was just as good. I would tell everything that happened and then the priest would give me penance and tell me what to do and I could start being good again. It made me feel better just thinking about it.
The next time the street looked empty I went outside and started walking along fast. I had my collar up and my head held down so nobody would get a good look at me. It was cold and grey out and other people were walking around the same way, but I was still scared. When somebody came walking along alone it wasn’t so bad, but when a couple of people came along talking together I hated it. I thought they must be talking about me sure and then they would try to grab me, so I walked even faster.
I passed a lot of churches but they were all the wrong kind, and I was almost out of Greenwich Village before I came to the right one. I went up the stairs slow so I could get everything straight in my head before I started telling it to the priest, and then I pushed open the big door and went in.
They were having a Mass. It was after seven o’clock so of course it was seven-o’clock Mass. I had forgotten all about that. All the time I thought about going into the church I only saw the way it would be dark and quiet and nobody around. But there was a lot of people. And in a back row, right next to the aisle, there was a cop kneeling in his blue overcoat with the brass buttons in back of it, so if I took one step he might turn around and see me.
I was just inside the door. I reached around behind me with my hand and started pushing it open again. When it was open enough, I went through it fast, and down the stairs, only my legs were so weak they gave out near the bottom, and I fell on my hands and knees right out in the street.
I felt the gun slipping loose and I pushed it back hard into my pocket. My hat was near the gutter and a guy came running over with it. I was only afraid he would see my face good, so I grabbed the hat and put it on while I was running down the block. Maybe he was okay, but I couldn’t take any chances. I kept changing around, running and walking, until I hit Fourteenth Street. Then I turned down toward Ninth Avenue and slowed up a little.
There was only one place left I could go. I had to get back to the bar without anybody seeing me and take a chance my father would listen to me. I couldn’t figure what he would say
or do, but whatever it was it would be better than going crazy walking around and around the streets.
There were some stores open on Ninth Avenue already, and when I same to them I went by as fast as I could, and then I slowed down by the ones that weren’t open yet. That’s how it happened I was leaning up against the door of Mr Triola’s barbershop when I looked down the block and saw the cops coming out of the bar. All I could do was flatten myself up against the door and pray none of the cops would look down the block my way.
There were three cops in uniform and another guy, and they walked to a big black sedan that was parked there. They stood next to it, and the guy talked to them and pointed with his hand, and I saw it was Peckinpaugh. It sent a chill through me, and I pressed so hard against the door my shoulders hurt.
But he didn’t see me. He kept talking, and the other cops kept shaking their heads yes, and then he and two of the cops got into the car and drove right past me, very fast and with a lot of noise.
The cop that was left stood looking after them a little while, banging his night stick into his other hand like he was sore, and I saw it was Kennealy. Then he turned and walked back into Mr Ehrlich’s store. I could hear the door slam after him.
I couldn’t take a chance on passing in front of the candy store now. I ran across the street and down the block on that side until I came opposite the bar. I stopped to see if everything was still quiet around Mr Ehrlich’s, and then I ran back across the street to the bar. If the door was locked I was ready to kick it in, but it was all right. Just the way I left it. I went in quick and then pushed the door shut so it wouldn’t make any noise.
It was empty inside. If I had come five minutes before, I would have run into all those cops, but now it was empty and quiet the same as when I left it. The big puddle of whisky was only a dark spot on the floor now, and my busted glasses were in the middle of it. My plate was still on the table and the coke bottle half-full. I grabbed it and drank it all down the way it was. It was lukewarm and flat, but it tasted wonderful.
I didn’t want to go upstairs but I had to. I figured I would be the first one to tell my father about what happened, but I knew the cops must have done that. And maybe they told him a lot of lies. I had to go up and straighten him out if he would only listen to me.
I went through the back door into the hall. The yard didn’t look exciting any more. It looked cold and grey, and Mr Ehrlich’s peach tree was standing there like a dead thing. Then something pushed me and I froze up, all sick inside, until I looked down and saw it was Flanagan’s cat. That was when I heard the talking upstairs.
It wasn’t loud enough to hear the words. I went up the first two steps, but I still couldn’t hear them, and I had to. I started going up the rest of the way, flattened against the wall, and looking around to make sure nobody was watching me. There were two people talking in the parlour, and one of them was my father.
He said, ‘Don’t, Mr Judge! I tell you I don’t know. You saw them go over the place. I tell you I don’t know!’ and Al Judge said, ‘I warned you, LaMain. I’ll tear you apart if you don’t start talking! Where is he?’
I felt like I was walking in my sleep. I was standing in front of the door, looking at Al Judge’s face all blood-red, and watching him slap the cane into his other hand like Kennealy was doing with the night stick, and listening to his voice come from between his teeth. There was bandage and tape all along the side of his head, there wasn’t any white scarf, but it was him all right. It was a miracle.
My father was trying to move back, but he was up against the big armchair and he couldn’t. He said, ‘Don’t, Mr Judge! I swear I don’t know!’ and Al Judge yelled, ‘God damn you, LaMain! I warned you!’
And then the cane was up in the air. Up over his head the same way I remembered it, only it wasn’t meant for me. It was meant for my father, and it would come down across the stripes on his back and he would scream and fall down and the whole thing would start all over again.
The gun was in my hand. I didn’t think about pulling it out or anything because it was in my hand. I only thought, the best way to hold it is with both hands because it kicks back so hard, and I held it tight with both hands and squeezed it crash, squeezed it crash, again and again, until it went click-click-click, and Al Judge grabbed his belly with both hands and fell over on his face, and the cane was lying in the armchair.
I didn’t know Flanagan was there all that time. He grabbed me by one arm, and my father got me by the other and pulled the gun out of my hand. He held it out, showing it to me and yelling something, but my ears were ringing and I couldn’t hear him. I thought I was going to pass out right in the door, but Flanagan got an arm around me and tried to steer me to a chair there.
Then I heard what my father was saying. He was yelling, with his face all twisted like a crazy man, ‘It’s her blood! Do you hear? It’s her blood, and you’ll end the same way!’
He didn’t know Kennealy had come up. None of us knew it. He was standing at the top of the stairs with his gun pointed at my father, and he was bent over like a football player getting ready to tackle somebody.
He yelled, ‘LaMain! Drop it!’ and there was my father twisting around surprised with the gun still in his hand, and Kennealy yelled, ‘LaMain!’ and his gun went off, and my father kept twisting all the way around until he hit the little table with the radio and the picture on it. It went over, and he went over with it, and he lay there quiet.
That was all. Only Flanagan kneeling over him with his overcoat on and his torn old sweater showing. He was kneeling there, and I think he was crying, and he was pushing his teeth in with the back of his hand and saying over and over, ‘Ah, Kennealy, the gun was empty. Didn’t you know, Kennealy? The gun was empty.’
Over and over.
Chapter Eighteen
IT was quiet in the bedroom. Quiet and dark. Sitting on the edge of the bed with Flanagan next to me, and looking at the big double doors, it felt like the parlour and everything in it was a thousand miles away. You could hear the cops and the guys from the newspapers walking around and talking, but as long as the doors were closed I didn’t care.
It was different when they had me in the parlour. They asked me questions so fast I couldn’t think, and I had to put my hands over my ears and yell, ‘Shut up! Shut up!’ until they stopped. Then Flanagan and Kennealy started talking to an old guy who was there, and he let Flanagan take me into the bedroom.
It was good talking to Flanagan in the dark. It was almost like talking to myself, and it helped me put things together. When we sat on the bed, he whispered, ‘Keep your head screwed on. They think your father killed the man, do you see? And to my way of thinking, it’s enough he died for it. Now, for God sake, tell me everything so we’ll know what kind of a story to give them.’
So I told him. I told him everything from the time Al Judge came into the bar all the way to the end. Sometimes I couldn’t remember exactly what happened or somebody’s name, but it was so important to me that I should, that I stopped and figured it out until I had it right. And all the time I didn’t feel like I was doing the talking at all. It felt like the words were coming out by themselves and all I had to do was steer them along.
When I was done, Flanagan sat quiet a little, and then he said, ‘Peckinpaugh is the man to be afraid of, all right. He’ll twist and turn everything you’ve done until he has you where he wants you.’
I said, ‘What will he do to me?’
‘It may be, mind you I don’t say for sure, but it may be he’ll try to put the killing on you. He’s the one to keep in mind while we fix up the story.’
I said, ‘Why didn’t you stop me? I wouldn’t have done it, only nobody stopped me!’
‘Shh! Have you got stones in the head? When you weren’t home after twelve, your father had me walking the streets all night in the blackness looking for you. Only when Judge came with the cops did we have an idea what happened and your poor father near went out of his mind.’
Flanagan said, ‘Quiet! Who’s to pin the fault on anyone? He never told the girl he would marry her, but she said no matter. When she came crying, and said she was in trouble and he would have to marry her Johnny-on-the-spot, what could he do? He gave her the only advice he could.
‘Was it his fault if she died in her room from poisoning after the operation? Up to the end she hardly spoke a word about her brother, the way she hated him for his bullying ways, but the priest got him there before she went, and that’s how it all came out. It was nobody’s fault, the way it happened.’
‘It was! Why didn’t he marry her? He liked her all right, didn’t he? Then why didn’t he marry her?’
‘Marry her? Christ Jesus and the angels! How could he marry anyone when he’s still married to your mother?’
‘But she’s dead! My mother is dead!’
He started rocking from side to side so his shoulder kept hitting me. ‘Ah, Jesus, it’s out now and what’s the difference with him laying in there. He could have been free of your mother any day he said the word, but he would never say it. He could never have her, but the way he was mad about her, he would never cut the ties between them.
‘That was what he carried around inside of him, night and day. All he ever feared in his life was you would find out, and it would hurt you like it hurt him. He had you on one side and her on the other, and he was torn between you night and day.’
I whispered, ‘But she’s dead. He told me himself she was dead long ago.’
‘She’s in prison for life. She’ll live there, and she’ll die there, but as long as your father had breath in his body, she was the only woman for him. And she was no good. Smart and beautiful, and no good at all.’
‘But what did she do?’
‘What did she do? She had you squalling in a baby bed upstairs, and your father working his head off to make money for her, and all that time she was carrying on with another man! The bar was on the other side of town then, and from the day I went to work there, I could see she was no good. All that time carrying on with another man until the day he threw her over for someone else’s wife, and she found him out and shot his in his bed. And even knowing the truth, your father would have given his life to save her from what she had coming.’
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