Read Online The Real Cool Killers by Chester Himes - Free Book Online
Authors: Chester Himes
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back. You trying to tell me I don’t know how to put a mother-raper into a sack. I’ll put
you
into a sack.”
“I know you know how, Sheik,” Choo-Choo said hastily. “I just didn’t want you to forget nothing when we put the captive in a sack.”
“I ain’t going to forget nothing,” Sheik said.
“When we gonna put him in a sack?” Choo-Choo asked. “I know where to find a sack.”
“Okay, we’ll put him in a sack just soon as the police finish here; then we take him down and leave him in the basement,” Sheik said.
7
Grave Digger flashed his badge at the two harness bulls guarding the door and pushed inside the Dew Drop Inn.
The joint was jammed with colored people who’d seen the big white man die, but nobody seemed to be worrying about it.
The jukebox was giving out with a stomp version of “Big-Legged Woman.” Saxophones were pleading; the horns were teasing; the bass was patting; the drums were chatting; the piano was catting, laying and playing the jive, and a husky female voice was shouting:
“… you can feel my thigh
But don’t you feel up high.”
Happy-tail women were bouncing out of their dresses on the high bar stools.
Grave Digger trod on the sawdust sprinkled over the bloodstains that wouldn’t wash off and parked on the stool at the end of the bar.
Big Smiley was serving drinks with his left arm in a sling.
The white manager, the sleeves of his tan silk shirt rolled up, was helping.
Big Smiley shuffled down the wet footing and showed Grave Digger most of his big yellow teeth.
“Is you drinking, Chief, or just sitting and thinking?”
“How’s the wing?” Grave Digger asked.
“Favorable. It wasn’t cut deep enough to do no real damage.”
The manager came down and said, “If I’d thought there was going to be any trouble I’d have called the police right away.”
“What do you calculate as trouble in this joint?” Grave Digger asked.
The manager reddened. “I meant about the white man getting killed.”
“Just what started all the trouble in here?”
“It wasn’t exactly what you’d call trouble, Chief,” Big Smiley said. “It was only a drunk attacked one of my white customers with his shiv and naturally I had to protect my customer.”
“What did he have against the white man?”
“Nothing, Chief. Not a single thing. He was sitting over there drinking one shot of rye after another and looking at the white man standing here tending to his own business. Then he gets red-eyed drunk and his evil tells him to get up and cut the man. That’s all. And naturally I couldn’t let him do that.”
“He must have had some reason. You’re not trying to tell me he got up and attacked the man without any reason whatever.”
“Naw suh, Chief, I’ll bet my life he ain’t had no reason atall to wanta cut the man. You know how our folks is, Chief; he was just one of those evil niggers that when they get drunk they start hating white folks and get to remembering all the bad things white folks ever done to them. That’s all. More than likely he was mad at some white man that done something bad to him twenty years ago down South and he just wanted to take it out on this white man in here. It’s like I told that white detective who was in here, this white man was standing here at the bar by hisself and that nigger just figgered with all those colored folk in here he could cut him and get away with it.”
“Maybe. What’s his name?”
“I ain’t ever seen that nigger before tonight, Chief; I don’t know what is his name.”
A customer called from up the bar, “Hey, boss, how about a little service up here?”
“If you want me, Jones, just holler,” the manager said, moving off to serve the customer.
“Yeah,” Grave Digger said, then asked Big Smiley, “Who was the woman?”
“There she is,” Big Smiley said, nodding toward a booth.
Grave Digger turned his head and scanned her.
The black lady in the pink jersey dress and red silk
you
into a sack.”
“I know you know how, Sheik,” Choo-Choo said hastily. “I just didn’t want you to forget nothing when we put the captive in a sack.”
“I ain’t going to forget nothing,” Sheik said.
“When we gonna put him in a sack?” Choo-Choo asked. “I know where to find a sack.”
“Okay, we’ll put him in a sack just soon as the police finish here; then we take him down and leave him in the basement,” Sheik said.
7
Grave Digger flashed his badge at the two harness bulls guarding the door and pushed inside the Dew Drop Inn.
The joint was jammed with colored people who’d seen the big white man die, but nobody seemed to be worrying about it.
The jukebox was giving out with a stomp version of “Big-Legged Woman.” Saxophones were pleading; the horns were teasing; the bass was patting; the drums were chatting; the piano was catting, laying and playing the jive, and a husky female voice was shouting:
“… you can feel my thigh
But don’t you feel up high.”
Happy-tail women were bouncing out of their dresses on the high bar stools.
Grave Digger trod on the sawdust sprinkled over the bloodstains that wouldn’t wash off and parked on the stool at the end of the bar.
Big Smiley was serving drinks with his left arm in a sling.
The white manager, the sleeves of his tan silk shirt rolled up, was helping.
Big Smiley shuffled down the wet footing and showed Grave Digger most of his big yellow teeth.
“Is you drinking, Chief, or just sitting and thinking?”
“How’s the wing?” Grave Digger asked.
“Favorable. It wasn’t cut deep enough to do no real damage.”
The manager came down and said, “If I’d thought there was going to be any trouble I’d have called the police right away.”
“What do you calculate as trouble in this joint?” Grave Digger asked.
The manager reddened. “I meant about the white man getting killed.”
“Just what started all the trouble in here?”
“It wasn’t exactly what you’d call trouble, Chief,” Big Smiley said. “It was only a drunk attacked one of my white customers with his shiv and naturally I had to protect my customer.”
“What did he have against the white man?”
“Nothing, Chief. Not a single thing. He was sitting over there drinking one shot of rye after another and looking at the white man standing here tending to his own business. Then he gets red-eyed drunk and his evil tells him to get up and cut the man. That’s all. And naturally I couldn’t let him do that.”
“He must have had some reason. You’re not trying to tell me he got up and attacked the man without any reason whatever.”
“Naw suh, Chief, I’ll bet my life he ain’t had no reason atall to wanta cut the man. You know how our folks is, Chief; he was just one of those evil niggers that when they get drunk they start hating white folks and get to remembering all the bad things white folks ever done to them. That’s all. More than likely he was mad at some white man that done something bad to him twenty years ago down South and he just wanted to take it out on this white man in here. It’s like I told that white detective who was in here, this white man was standing here at the bar by hisself and that nigger just figgered with all those colored folk in here he could cut him and get away with it.”
“Maybe. What’s his name?”
“I ain’t ever seen that nigger before tonight, Chief; I don’t know what is his name.”
A customer called from up the bar, “Hey, boss, how about a little service up here?”
“If you want me, Jones, just holler,” the manager said, moving off to serve the customer.
“Yeah,” Grave Digger said, then asked Big Smiley, “Who was the woman?”
“There she is,” Big Smiley said, nodding toward a booth.
Grave Digger turned his head and scanned her.
The black lady in the pink jersey dress and red silk
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