Robert absently thought how easily men in the movies knocked a man out. In reality it was much harder.
Robert pulled the lookout’s body behind a tall bush and hid next to him. Linda jumped out and stood on the corner. She had her skirt hiked up to the crest of her ass and Robert couldn’t help but look.
The dirty cops waited outside the house. One of them was a big guy, six feet about two fifty. The other was thinner but just as tall. Suddenly, a small boy came running out carrying a thick package. The thin cop took it and they rolled off.
“That’s it,” said Robert. “Here they come.” He pulled a ski mask over his face. In the van, Yusef did the same.
The dirty cops rolled to the corner. Linda waited until they could see her and then pretended to hurry away. It was well known that dirty cops forced hookers to give them freebies.
One of the cops issued a short blast on his siren. Linda stopped, uttering a curse. She walked over to the cops who had stopped their bikes at the corner.
“Well, well,” said one of the cops. “A young one.”
“Get your ass over here, girl,” said the other.
Neither of them saw Robert circling behind them. Nor did they give a second thought to the old van parked nearby.
Linda walked over, keeping her head turned down so they could not get a good look at her.
“Move it!” said one of the cops.
Linda walked up to them then reached into her purse and pulled a gun and leveled it at one of the cops.
“What the fuc—“
A second later, Robert put a shotgun in the back of the other cop.
“Don’t move,” he said.
At the same time, Yusef came flying out of the van holding a rifle. He was wearing the ski mask and stepped in front of Linda blocking the cops’ view. Linda jumped back into the van and got behind the wheel.
“You can give us that money,” said Yusef.
Robert took the money package from the skinny cop’s motorcycle compartment. He then disarmed both officers.
“You’re all dead,” said the big cop. “No where for your black asses to hide.”
“Get off them bikes,” commanded Robert. The cops dismounted reluctantly.
“Now run,” said Yusef pointing in the opposite direction of where Robert had thrown the guns.
The cops moved away from the motorcycles but did so slowly. Suddenly Robert fired the shotgun into the air.
“I said run, goddammit!” Robert said.
The cops began to run. When they were a good distance away. Yusef ran back to the van.
Robert kicked over the cop’s bikes then took out a knife and slashed their back tires.
He ran back to the van. He took two steps when someone tackled him. It was the man he’d knocked out. He’d come to. Robert fell forward, the attacker on his back. The shotgun went off into the air.
Yusef leapt out of the van and kicked Robert’s attacker hard in the face. The man fell backward. Robert scrambled to his feet.
Robert kicked the fallen man in the ribs and heard one of them break. The man howled in pain.
Linda ran from the van with a can of gasoline and poured it over the toppled motorcycles. She dropped a lit match on them and they burst into flames.
Linda, Robert and Yusef ran back to the van. Linda jumped behind the wheel then peeled off.
They were half way up the block when one of the motorcycles’ gas tanks exploded.
18
KNOWLEDGE
“Letter for you, Riley,” said Dennison as Thomas walked through the lobby of the precinct house.
“Letter?” said Thomas curiously even as he took it from the burly Sergeant.
The letter was in a plain white envelope and was addressed to him care of the station house. He opened it. The envelope contained a single piece of paper with the word “murderer” written on it in red.
Now Thomas was sure that he was being followed. This had to be from the dead boy’s brother, what had he said his name was? Robert, he thought.
He tore the note to pieces and went in to change. He tried to calm as he dressed, telling himself that the uniform made him noble, pure and above all the trouble he sensed.
But an hour later, there was more bad news. Yet another committee was calling him and this time, it was official.
He immediately went to look for Ned. He wanted to talk to him, ask him what had happened in his meeting. Ned had told him it was quick and uneventful. He told them that he was the last on the scene and by the time he got there, the boy was dead. But Thomas had sensed there was something more, something Ned wasn’t saying.
Ned had called in sick. Convenient, Thomas thought. Brady and Reid were not to be found either.
Now he could see the looks of suspicion on the faces of his coworkers. He felt the whispering behind his back. He was in trouble, a young cop’s future on the line for a murder.
Thomas took off early that day and went straight to McGinty’s bar and tied one on. Later, he fought bitterly with Sarah after coming in drunk.
There are times in life things seemed simple to everyone around you. People were telling Thomas to tow the line, to stick to the story but it wasn’t that easy. He kept seeing the dead boy on the ground and that look of anger in the eyes of his brother. He kept seeing Shaun dying in Korea and watching his father fall to pieces because of it and he kept seeing his beloved Cahan in a big coffin surrounded by hundreds of people.
Death was all around him, guiding his destiny, changing his life. Death and all its vile products sat before him like a putrid tree, whose roots sank straight to hell.
The next day, he went into the committee. This time it had officers from the FBI and IAD. One of the FBI Agents was a Negro.
His Police Officers Association representative was there and they were recording the event for posterity.
Brady and Reid had already talked to this new panel. Thomas wondered why they talked to him last.
“Are you sure you don't want your rep to speak for you, officer?” asked the IAD Agent as Thomas took a seat.
“No, sir,” said Thomas. “I can speak for myself.”
“My client has nothing to hide,” said John Richards, the Police Rep. He was a cop turned attorney and he was known for being good at his job. He had told Thomas not to worry with an air of confidence. But that had not kept Thomas from his concern.
“Do you know why we reopened this case, Officer Riley?” asked the Negro FBI Agent.
“No,” said Thomas.
“Don't you mean, "no sir?" asked the Negro.
There was quiet in the room at this question. Thomas locked gazes with the Negro FBI Agent.
“I'm not in the FBI,” said Thomas defensively.
The Negro Agent laughed at him derisively like he had scored some kind of victory.
“Some of the riot files were sent to Quantico for analysis,” said the Black FBI Agent. “This case bounced back to us.”
“We just have a few questions for you, officer,” said the White FBI Agent.
“We read your account and the other officers' as well,” said the Internal Affairs cop. “You still contend the deceased was dead on the street when you and the other officers found him?”
Thomas looked at Richards who nodded to him.
“Yes,” said Thomas.
“You said he had a knife near his hand like he'd been in a fight,” said the White FBI Agent.
“Yes,” said Thomas not bothering to check with Richards.
“And you heard the shot prior to discovering the body?” asked the Negro FBI Agent.
“That's correct,” said Thomas.
“But you and your partner, Ned Young, got separated so only you and officers Don Brady and Matthew Reid found the body first,” said the IAD cop.
“That’s right,” said Thomas.
“And none of your weapons match the bullet that killed Marcus Jackson,” said the Negro Agent.
“Because none of us shot him,” said Thom
as with a little anger in his voice.
“Try to keep your answers to yes or no Thomas,” said Richards. “I ask this panel to phrase their questions accordingly.”
“We’re only stating things that are in the record,” said the IAD cop. “We’re just getting verification.”
“If it’s in the record,” said Richards, “you don’t need to re-verify it. “
The IAD cop threw his hand up in mock surrender. Thomas wanted to nod to Richard or something but he didn’t want to make this matter any more antagonistic than it already was.
“So, officer which hand was it in?” asked the White FBI Agent.
“Excuse me?” asked Thomas.
“The knife,” said the White officer. “Which hand did Marcus Jackson hold it in?”
Thomas looked at Richards who didn't know what to say.
“This isn’t a test people,” said Richards. “Whatever’s in the report is his answer.”
“Your client said the knife was near his right hand,” said the Negro FBI agent. “The other two officers said the same thing in their reports and the crime scene photo shows the same.”
“If the report says that, then that’s what I said,” said Thomas.
“Marcus Jackson was left handed,” said the IAD cop flatly.
Thomas tried not to show his shock at this. Richards was as cool as ice and then he laughed. “So?” said Richards.
“The man was in danger of losing his life against an armed assailant and he used his other hand?” said the Negro Agent and Thomas saw a deadly serious look on his face.
“And that’s not all,” said the white FBI Agent. “We found Marcus Jackson’s prints on the knife handle but not on the blade. The knife wasn't a switchblade. You have to open it like this.”
The agent took out a buck knife and opened it, pulling the blade out with his fingers. He made sure Thomas and Richards saw this action.
“How the hell did he pull off that trick?” asked the IAD cop.
Thomas looked at Richards who terrified him by having a shocked look on his face.
“Nothing to say, officer?” asked the IAD cop.
“All I know is that he was dead when we got there,” said Thomas. He looked at Richards who still had the shocked look on his face.
“Listen,” said Richards finally. “These matters are filled with stress, maybe my client was mistaken.”
“The medical team reports the knife was by his right hand as well,” said the Negro Agent.
“Officer,” began the IAD cop. “This case is going to be looked at further by this committee. I strongly suggest that you think about the story you gave and what it means to your career.”
“People have died, officer,” said the White FBI Agent. “And the government is not going to just sit around while nothing is done.”
“People have died,” said the Negro FBI Agent and Thomas caught the meaning of his emphasis.
Thomas was let go. He stepped out into the lobby with Richards. They moved down the hallway when Thomas turned to Richards.
“What the fuck was that?” asked Thomas. “Why did you just sit there like that?”
“What was I supposed to do?” said Richards. “There was nothing in the file about that kid being left handed and prints on the knife blade.”
Thomas just looked at Richards then he turned and kept walking. Richards followed him.
“You want to tell me how that knife got opened without his print on it?” asked Richards.
“No,” said Thomas. “I can’t.” He looked away before he could stop himself.
“Well, you and your friends had better find an answer to that question,” said Richards. “If this thing goes to a Grand Jury, it’ll be a count of perjury if they catch you in a lie.”
“No one’s lying,” said Thomas. “Look, thanks for your help. But next time I’ll get myself a real lawyer.”
Thomas walked off and he could feel Richards’ eyes burning a hole in his back. He knew it was wrong to take out his frustrations on the lawyer but there was no one else around.
Thomas rounded the corner and ducked into a men’s room. He went into a stall and pulled out the little flask he’d started carrying lately. His heart was beating fast and he could feel a dull ache building just behind his eyes.
He opened the flask and the sharp aroma of whiskey greeted him. He took two hits from the flask then returned it to his pocket. Then he stuffed his mouth with Juicy Fruit chewing gum and walked back to the lobby.
19
BLOWBACK
Robert and The Vanguard’s actions had immediate effect. The theft of the drug pay off money from the dirty cops had started a gang war and ended in the death of a rival dealer. Apparently, the cops had made the dealers get them more money.
“All the better for the ghetto,” Yusef had said.
Robert spent the rest of his time watching Officer Thomas Riley and gathering information on him. He found out where he lived, where he went to hang out, his friends and whom he was sleeping with.
Robert saw his woman, a beautiful white girl with blond hair. She was a hippie and a radical, one of the good ones. He wondered if she knew what kind of man she was with.
He also discovered that Thomas was developing a drinking problem. He’d go to a cop bar and hang out and had taken to keeping a flask on him. Robert smiled at this. The man was guilty and it was eating away at him. Soon, he would break.
Robert decided to send him the letter with the one word on it written in red. He knew Thomas would know he sent it, but Robert was hoping to provoke the cop into doing something stupid.
If he came at him then he’d kill the bastard and his brother could rest in peace. But he’d have to confront him with plenty of witnesses or none at all, he thought.
Robert began to wonder how Riley had avoided the draft. He was young and able-bodied and should have been called. He vowed to find out.
Robert also asked questions about Marcus within The Vanguard. Somewhere between Riley and The Guard was the truth. Marcus was well known and highly respected on the street and within The Guard itself. Marcus often spoke to kids after school and even tried to turn a few dealers away from their occupation. Robert was proud of his brother’s reputation but this only brought on more sadness.
Robert’s activities caused him to miss a few days at work and soon he was forced to quit his job at the Faygo plant.
“Why did you quit the job, Bobby?” asked Denise.
“I ain’t got the time for it,” Robert said.
“You need more time to run with those wannabe militants? How’s that going to help us?”
“You mean you, don’t you?” said Robert. “All women care about is some man busting his back for them. Well, I got shit to do and it don’t got nothing to do with buying you stuff. You got a job. Work it.”
Denise had just glared at him with rage and frustration. She walked out on him and he was surprised to find that he didn’t care. In fact, many things that he should have been worried over, he didn’t care about anymore. He needed a job and he certainly wanted the love of his parents. But since he’d started on the trail of the killers, none of this mattered.
“This thing’s gonna kill you,” his mother had said. “God took your brother but this anger’s gonna take everything else.”
Robert became a stranger in his home. He stayed out later and later doing his work. Some nights, he didn’t bother to come home at all.
Denise cut him off in bed, fearing what he might be doing with other women. Robert didn’t complain or argue; he just accepted this as the price of his newfound undertaking.
Yusef became a big part of his new life. As he suspected, Yusef had attended Michigan State but dropped out when The Movement called to him.
They spent hours together exchanging ideas and talking about the future of their people. Yusef believed that the Black revolutionaries would some day be as important to America as the Founding Fathers. He even joked that he’d be on the dollar bill some
day.
Yusef Muhammad had been a follower of the Black Muslims. After hearing Malcolm X and Elijah Muhammad speak in temple number two on Linwood, he had converted to the Muslim faith and changed his name. Gerald Robinson was gone forever.
Yusef became a bodyguard for the Nation in Chicago and once even protected Malcolm X who pushed for the end of nonviolence as a way of dealing with White America. After Malcolm was killed and other Muslims implicated, he left the fold.
Yusef fell in with various Black radicals and ended up in The Vanguard and was tapped to start a chapter in Detroit.
He jumped at the chance to go back home and continue the revolution. It was here he felt that he was meant to make his mark on the world.
Yusef ordered Robert to teach the other members everything he’d learned in the Marines. Robert held weekly marksman classes and taught hand to hand. Linda was one of Robert’s best students. She was tough, mean and possessed a strength that belied her size.
Linda worked as a part-time domestic for a White lawyer in the city. She told her bosses that she was a junior college student but that was a lie. She hadn’t even finished high school, dropping out in her junior year.
Ben Kilmer, the lawyer she worked for, was connected in city politics. Linda used the White lawyer’s connections to get information that had sometimes been useful to The Vanguard. When the city was planning a crackdown, she informed Yusef and none of their activities were affected.
She hated working for the White people, smiling and acting subservient, but so far, it had been beneficial.
Robert tried not to think about his attraction to Linda who subtly flirted with him all the time. She wore tight jeans or miniskirts and made a point of standing where he could get a good look.
Robert and Denise were not seeing a lot of each other and arguing when they did and their sex life had tapered off.
So Robert fantasized about having the young girl. He’d take her into one of the back rooms and watch as she peeled off her clothes. Once she was naked, he’d taste every part of her until she was begging him to make love to her. Then he’d attack his occupation, feeling the sweetness of her youth and longing with his own.
Dark Town Redemption Page 15