Standing at the Scratch Line (44 page)

The bell captain went into his fawning role. “You ain’t got to worry about nothin’ from me, suh. I takes cares of everythin’ you want.” But when he went out to the car, he was seething. He thought he heard snickers and chuckles from other hotel staff behind his back. He wondered what was keeping Lieutenant Kaiser from investigating King. Perhaps Kaiser needed to be reminded. Bradley knew that the lieutenant would pull King down off his high horse. He had a trace of a smile on his face when he reentered the hotel with the chickens.

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When Johan Kaiser arrived at the Toussant, it was nearly dusk. He was accompanied only by Williams. They were met at the rear entrance by Bradley, who led them through the kitchen and up the back stairs to the second floor, where King’s suite of rooms was located. Bradley had scheduled this time with Kaiser because he knew that most of the kitchen staff would be attending a dinner planning meeting and only a skeleton staff of the custodial crew remained after five in the afternoon. It was his intent that Kaiser’s visit should not be observed, but he failed in his purpose. The deaf woman from the kitchen saw them enter as she was checking whether there was enough shrimp in the ice chest to make an étouffée. The deaf woman did not reveal her presence, but watched quietly as they passed.

They were also seen by Sister Bornais, a fortune-teller who was reputed to be a talented seer and interpreter of the tarot. Sister Bornais was also called Black Magic Woman because she prepared and sold all types of protective gris-gris. Among the believers she had a strong influence, for it was widely held that her curses were even more potent than her gris-gris. She had just finished a reading for an elderly woman who had traveled all the way from Baton Rouge for an appointment with her. Sister Bornais watched from another room, through a slightly cracked doorway, as the bell captain used his keys and let the white men into King’s door. From the way the men acted, she could tell they were attempting to take King by surprise. She knew the lieutenant well, for he was the man who collected the payoff off the top from everyone who operated a long-term business in the area, ranging from the French Quarter to the colored section of Uptown.

Sister Bornais closed the door silently and stepped back into the room. She assured her client that nothing was wrong. She indicated that she only desired to sit a minute before making the long walk home. Sister Bornais knew whose room the lieutenant had entered. Everyone who came to the Toussant knew that King Tremain had the suite on the second floor at the end of the hall. The lieutenant had a reputation and King had a reputation. She wondered after this meeting whether either man would walk out the door.

King and Sampson were sitting at the table reading the paper when they first heard the key in the lock. Sampson stood up immediately and got a shotgun out of the closet. King’s holsters were hanging on the back of his chair, under his coat. He pulled a pistol and cocked it before Kaiser and Williams rushed in. They had hoped to catch King unawares, but instead came face-to-face with a double-barreled shotgun and a .45 automatic. There was a moment of silence before either Williams or Kaiser regained their composure and spoke.

“We’re New Orleans police,” Kaiser growled. “You don’t want to make things worse for yourself, do you boys? You best put down those guns and maybe we’ll go lightly with you.”

King smiled, but his pistol did not waver. “How come you don’t knock? You got a search warrant?”

Kaiser and Williams looked at each other and began to laugh.

“Where you from, nigger?” Williams demanded with a crooked smile. “Talkin’ about search warrants! That don’t apply to you! You best get it through yo’ nappy head that we can come through yo’ place anytime we want!”

The desire to kill the two white men was strong, but King realized someone knew they were in his room, for someone had opened the door for them. The sounds from the street in front of the hotel had not changed; therefore there were no police cars in sight. King backed over to the window and glanced out to confirm his conclusion. There was just the normal street traffic. It appeared to King that the two men in front of him were working without additional police support; if that were true then they were operating on a hunch, or there was an informer who gave them a little information. Otherwise, if they really had something of substance, they would have come with a squadron.

King shoved his pistol in his waistband. “You boys must be lookin’ for something. Why don’t you grab a chair and let’s hear what’s got you rushin’ into my hotel room.”

“Nigger, you better shut yo’ mouth and—”

King pulled out his pistol and rounded the table swiftly. “I don’t like the word
nigger,
so I don’t mind killin’ you,” he said in a quiet tone as he put the gun to Williams’s temple. “All it means is I got to go find the rat that let you in and do him too.”

The suddenness of King’s action and the softness of his words were unnerving to both Kaiser and Williams. King wasn’t the run-of-the-mill street tough they normally encountered. Kaiser sat down in a chair. “No reason to get jumpy. We’ll sit down. Sit down, Williams!” There was no doubt in his mind that the two colored men confronting him were cold-blooded killers and there was no likelihood that bluster and bravado would intimidate them. If he was fortunate enough to leave the room with his life, Kaiser knew that he would be back at the Toussant within an hour with reinforcements. His desire was to wipe King and his companion off the face of the earth. There was no place for uppity niggers in his world.

King stood in front of the two whites. “Now, I been expectin’ a visit from you white boys, but you done put me in a bad situation when you come stormin’ in here,” he began conversationally. “If I let you go now, you gon’ be back here in minutes with every gun you got. It look to me like I got two choices: to kill you slow or kill you fast. Unless you wants to hear my deal. Otherwise, seems like in a couple of days both you boys gon’ be fillin’ a pine box.”

There was a long silence. Then Williams came out of his chair like a shot and dove at King. With a minimum of movement, King sidestepped the charge and clipped Williams hard on the head with the butt of his pistol. Williams fell headlong on the floor and lay in a heap.

“I knows a lot about you, Johan Kaiser,” King said. “You got a nice house over on Toulouse Street and a wife with two nice-lookin’ boys. Yo’ mother got a little house just outside of Fenner. I wonder what Sheriff Mack would say if he knew you killed his wife’s younger brother? Or where he’s buried? Mack liked that boy. That’s why he was promotin’ him so fast. Or what he would say if he knew how much you was skimming off the top of his cut?”

“What do you want?” Kaiser demanded.

“Who let you and yo’ buddy in my room?”

“Bradley O’Malley.”

King smiled. “The main thing I wants is to be left alone. As payment for that, I lets you live and the information that I have stays with my lawyer unless somethin’ happens to me. Of course, if I gets found dead, or disappear, then Sheriff Mack gon’ get yo’ file and I know he gon’ take care of you like you deserve.”

“Who else knows?”

“Just me and a Cajun man with some knives and he ain’t gon’ tell nobody, ’cause that ain’t his way.”

“You got a deal,” Kaiser answered in a grim tone. He needed some time to think. All he wanted to do now was get out into the afternoon air.

“Good, we gon’ keep yo’ boy, here. I know he got plenty to tell us and he gon’ be happy to do it. That Cajun man I was talkin’ about, he don’t like folks with badges.”

Kaiser looked over at the unconscious body of Williams and realized he was helpless. There was nothing he could do to save the man’s life. He set his jaw and vowed to himself that he would see King and all his buddies lying in an unmarked grave. He looked up at King and asked, “Can I go now?”

“I told you the main thing that I wanted,” King said with a smile, looking into Kaiser’s pale blue eyes. “But that ain’t the only thing. The other thing is: I want to be called Mister, Mr. Tremain. You get me?”

Kaiser’s face turned red with anger, but he held himself in check. He felt the walls of the room closing in on him. He grimaced and said, “I understand you.” He stood up woodenly.

“No you don’t,” corrected King, moving over to block his path to the door. “I want you to say it, so I knows you understand what I mean. Practice sayin’ it!”

Kaiser stood still, breathing shallowly. His eyes were clouded with hate. He was weighing whether it was better to die rather than be humiliated by the colored man in front of him, which was strange in that he never thought of risking his life to save Williams.

“Say it!” prodded King, daring Kaiser to take action.

“Mr. Tremain,” Kaiser answered through gritted teeth.

King walked over and opened the door. “Thanks for dropping in.”

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“Well, I see that the Lord has blessed us with full attendance. I expects that everyone is wantin’ to hear the progress that we done made and I is happy to repo’t that everythin’ is goin’ along just peachy.” The Right Reverend Aloysious Pendergast hooked his thumbs in the armpits of his vest and tapped his fingers on his chest. Reverend Pendergast had large muttonchop sideburns that were greater in quantity and fullness than the hair on top of his head. He had a rich caramel-colored skin and was portly from a life of good eating and too little exercise. “God be praised,” he intoned with his deep baritone. “We have saved some good colored families from the hand of the infidel! God be praised, the land is purchased! God be praised! We—”

“I beg yo’ pardon, Reverend,” King interjected. He did not wish to give the Reverend Pendergast a chance to build up steam with his preaching. King had noticed in previous meetings how the reverend tended to dominate with his preaching, whether he possessed good ideas or not. “I wants to know what happened after the money was received by yo’ church.”