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Authors: Jonathan Valin
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voice. "Are you a policeman?"
I shook my head, no.
"You ain't a policeman?" she said with surprise.
"My name is Stoner. I work for the Lessing family."
The girl dropped her eyes, as if the name Lessing meant something to her. "Maybe you help me anyways, Mr. Stoner? I just gotta talk to Terry."
"You're going to have to wait until they're done."
"When will that be, you think?" She looked up at a clock on the wall in front of her. "It's already 'bout four. And I got a bus to catch."
"It could take all night."
She thought about that for a second and made her face look grimly determined. "Then I just gotta wait. 'Cause I can't have him thinking what he thinks about me. And somebody 'round here's gotta hear me out." The girl gave me another pointed look.
It was obvious that she wanted to talk about Carnova. But I'd had my fill of her boyfriend, and the last thing I felt like doing was sitting there and listening to her apologize. On the other hand, I didn't want to blow the chance to learn more about Lessing. And judging by her reaction when I'd mentioned Ira's name, there was a possibility that the girl knew something worth listening to -something that Carnova hadn't admitted to or had distorted in his confession. Maybe it was a measure of how little I was looking forward to confronting the Lessing family with Carnova's story, but I decided to give the girl a chance to talk.
"I thought you turned Terry in," I said, sitting down beside her on the bench.
Kitty Guinn edged away from me self-consciously, just far enough to let me know that she wasn't the kind of girl who sat close to strangers. Under the circumstances it was a silly bit of redneck etiquette. But the fact that she had values of any kind gave her a big leg up on her boyfriend.
"I did turn him in," she said with a guilty look. "But I didn't expect it to happen like it done. It was Tommy T. that was behind it. Not Terry. I told the cops that when they come to get me. But they wouldn't listen."
"Terry didn't mention anybody else," I said to her.
The girl glanced disparagingly at the door of the interrogation room. "He's trying to make himself look big is all. 'Cause of what happened to that man."
"To Lessing?"
She bit her lip and nodded. "He was a good man, that man. He give Terry everything he wanted. When we didn't have no money, he give Terry money. He was good to Terry. And Terry . . . he liked him real good. Like he was his own dad that he never had."
"I thought Terry said he had a father."
'No, he don't. He don't have no one, save that old bitch aunt of his, over ta' Newport, and that bastard cousin of hers, Kent. Terry's own dad skipped out when Terry was a kid. And his mom . . . well, she married some guy up in Akron. Got her a brand-new family, and Terry ain't welcome. Terry didn't have nobody till he met me. Nobody but that man."
"Terry says that Lessing was a homosexual. That he paid him for his company."
The girl shifted her eyes away from me, as if she wasn't sure what to say. "I don't know nothing about that. He was good to Terry is all I know. There was never no trouble between them. And Terry ain't no fag, I can tell you that. He ain't never been no faggot. Them that says he is, like Chester Johnson and Tommy T., is liars." She looked at me again, proudly. "I know Terry ain't no faggot."
I believed that she thought she was telling the truth about Carnova's manhood. But then she didn't look like she'd had much experience with men. And she wasn't very bright.
"So you don't think Lessing was a homosexual?"
"No, I don't," she said stoutly, as if I'd talked her into it. "He was like a father to Terry. That's why he give him that money, 'cause he didn't have no kid of his own."
"Did you ever meet Lessing?"
"Once't, he come over to our apartment," she said shyly, as if the honor of it still sat heavily on her. "It was back in March. He bought us some pizza and Terry played some music on his guitar. Terry's real musical." Her eyes shone with
I shook my head, no.
"You ain't a policeman?" she said with surprise.
"My name is Stoner. I work for the Lessing family."
The girl dropped her eyes, as if the name Lessing meant something to her. "Maybe you help me anyways, Mr. Stoner? I just gotta talk to Terry."
"You're going to have to wait until they're done."
"When will that be, you think?" She looked up at a clock on the wall in front of her. "It's already 'bout four. And I got a bus to catch."
"It could take all night."
She thought about that for a second and made her face look grimly determined. "Then I just gotta wait. 'Cause I can't have him thinking what he thinks about me. And somebody 'round here's gotta hear me out." The girl gave me another pointed look.
It was obvious that she wanted to talk about Carnova. But I'd had my fill of her boyfriend, and the last thing I felt like doing was sitting there and listening to her apologize. On the other hand, I didn't want to blow the chance to learn more about Lessing. And judging by her reaction when I'd mentioned Ira's name, there was a possibility that the girl knew something worth listening to -something that Carnova hadn't admitted to or had distorted in his confession. Maybe it was a measure of how little I was looking forward to confronting the Lessing family with Carnova's story, but I decided to give the girl a chance to talk.
"I thought you turned Terry in," I said, sitting down beside her on the bench.
Kitty Guinn edged away from me self-consciously, just far enough to let me know that she wasn't the kind of girl who sat close to strangers. Under the circumstances it was a silly bit of redneck etiquette. But the fact that she had values of any kind gave her a big leg up on her boyfriend.
"I did turn him in," she said with a guilty look. "But I didn't expect it to happen like it done. It was Tommy T. that was behind it. Not Terry. I told the cops that when they come to get me. But they wouldn't listen."
"Terry didn't mention anybody else," I said to her.
The girl glanced disparagingly at the door of the interrogation room. "He's trying to make himself look big is all. 'Cause of what happened to that man."
"To Lessing?"
She bit her lip and nodded. "He was a good man, that man. He give Terry everything he wanted. When we didn't have no money, he give Terry money. He was good to Terry. And Terry . . . he liked him real good. Like he was his own dad that he never had."
"I thought Terry said he had a father."
'No, he don't. He don't have no one, save that old bitch aunt of his, over ta' Newport, and that bastard cousin of hers, Kent. Terry's own dad skipped out when Terry was a kid. And his mom . . . well, she married some guy up in Akron. Got her a brand-new family, and Terry ain't welcome. Terry didn't have nobody till he met me. Nobody but that man."
"Terry says that Lessing was a homosexual. That he paid him for his company."
The girl shifted her eyes away from me, as if she wasn't sure what to say. "I don't know nothing about that. He was good to Terry is all I know. There was never no trouble between them. And Terry ain't no fag, I can tell you that. He ain't never been no faggot. Them that says he is, like Chester Johnson and Tommy T., is liars." She looked at me again, proudly. "I know Terry ain't no faggot."
I believed that she thought she was telling the truth about Carnova's manhood. But then she didn't look like she'd had much experience with men. And she wasn't very bright.
"So you don't think Lessing was a homosexual?"
"No, I don't," she said stoutly, as if I'd talked her into it. "He was like a father to Terry. That's why he give him that money, 'cause he didn't have no kid of his own."
"Did you ever meet Lessing?"
"Once't, he come over to our apartment," she said shyly, as if the honor of it still sat heavily on her. "It was back in March. He bought us some pizza and Terry played some music on his guitar. Terry's real musical." Her eyes shone with
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