The Governor's Sons (40 page)

One of the merits of segregation was that it prevented this sort of thing from happening.
 
Oddly enough, Ash seemed not to notice the girls’ fascination with this black man at their dinner table.
 
He seemed almost mesmerized himself by this Harland Hall.
 
To Charlene’s dismay, her husband and Mr. Hall appeared close to kindred spirits, while they expounded on and on about Malcolm X, Civil Rights, politics and law.

****

Ash closed the bedroom door.
 
“You certainly weren’t very hospitable at dinner,” he said to Charlene as they began preparing for bed.
 
“You were wound up tight as a damned spring!”

“Just what did you expect me to do?
 
Kiss his feet?”
 
Charlene removed her pearls and threw them on the vanity.

Taken aback by her reaction, Ash tried to stay calm. “Charlene, what’s wrong?”

“Did you
not
notice the way the girls stared at that—
Mr. Hall
—all through dinner?”

“Nonsense, Charlene.
 
You’re imagining things.
 
They know not to look at a Negro man that way.
 
And besides, he certainly wasn’t thinking about our daughters.
 
Told me himself his mind’s not on women right now.
 
He’s dedicated to the Civil Rights cause.”

“Oh, and you’ve told me that a man would have to be dead for his mind
not
to be on women!”

“C’mon, honey, give the man a break.”

“And just why were
you
fawning all over that
Neegro
?

“I wasn’t fawning all over anybody!”

“You were!
 
You were chumming it up with him and patting him on the back like he was a long lost
son
, or something!
 
He’s not your son!”
 
Charlene shook her head rapidly as if to confirm this as fact.
 
“He’s not,” she said softly.
 
Ash felt his heart tighten.
 
“You have a son!
 
Fawn over
him
sometime—tell Gavin you’re proud of
him
!”

Ash felt more comfortable changing the topic.
 
“Charlene—this is about more than having Harland Hall stay here and eat with us, isn’t it?”

“So, can I finally tell you about what happened at Libby’s?”

“Whatever happened—does it remove any doubt from your mind that Harland’s responsible?”

“Harland?” Charlene almost whispered.
 
“Why does everything have to boil down to
Harland
?
 
What about Otis?
 
My brother’s
dead
, in case you’ve forgotten!
 
You act like you care more about that
Neegro
than you do your own brother-in-law!”
 
Charlene collapsed on the bed and began to cry.

Ash sat next to her and gently rubbed her back, then eased her up and held her in his arms.
 
No longer wound tightly, she felt limp.
 
“Charlene—I’m—sorry.
 
I know how much you loved Otis.
 
The kids were crazy about him—and I miss him, too,” Ash said quietly.
 
“Now, tell me everything.
 
What did you see?
 
How was she acting?”

“Ash, you were right about her.”
 
Charlene cried into his shoulder.
 
“I think she was using Otis, somehow.
 
She never loved him.
 
I could tell.
 
There were no pictures of him anywhere.
 
She didn’t talk about him at all.”
 
Charlene pulled herself from Ash and wiped her eyes.
 
“She was too busy just harping on about the release of those Negro men from jail.
 
When I mentioned Otis, no emotion registered.

“And she kept apologizing for a messy apartment.
 
I only saw a few clothes on the back of her couch.
 
But Ash—her bathroom was spotless.
 
I asked to use it, mainly just to see how it looked.
 
The sink sparkled and the toilet bowl was white without a trace of mold.
 
If someone’s truly distraught and grieving, they’re not gonna think about cleaning--or baking for that matter.”
 
Fresh tears slid down Charlene’s cheeks.
 
“But she’d even made cookies. Oh, Ash, today—I just got the feeling that she’s dangerous.
 
I don’t know if she was actually involved in my brother’s murder, but I don’t trust her—and I think she’s hiding something.”

Ash pulled Charlene close again and gently squeezed her.
 
“I’m gonna go see Libby next week.”
 
He kissed her temple.
 
“And it won’t be a damn social call.”

The Beach Boys’ “I Get Around” played softly on the radio in Libby’s black VW Beetle as she drove home in the dark.
 
As instructed, she’d been at the payphone by 11:00 sharp.
 
That’s when the Organization had called to inform her that Caldwell would be in town early the next morning.
 
Libby’d been told that she didn’t need to arrange a place to meet him, because he’d find her.

Libby parked in front of her apartment building, then walked up the dimly lit back stairwell to her unit.
 
She unlocked the door and stepped inside. But before she had a chance to flip on the light, the door closed suddenly.
  
In the pitch blackness she was grabbed from behind, a rough hand forced over her mouth.

“Don’t scream,” a smoky voice said.
 
For a moment, Libby fantasized that Governor Kroth had come to “take her.”
 
But then she smelled gunpowder in her assailant’s clothes.
 
“Guess who?” An unshaven cheek grazed her forehead.

“Let me go, Caldwell,” Libby said between clenched teeth.

He released her and switched on the light.
 
Although in his late forties, and despite the lack of an eye, Caldwell was still sexy.
 
Tall and solidly built, he always wore black: black shirt, black pants, black eye patch.
 
Perspiration left a shine on his bald head, and his craggy face, with a flattened pug nose, broken more than once, and coarse square jaw, appeared smashed in, resembling a bulldog’s.
 
Caldwell’s one good eye, a beady gun metal gray, swept lustfully over Libby.

“You happy to see me?”

“How’d you get in here?”
 
Libby realized this was a stupid question as soon a she’d asked.
 
And by the half smile on Caldwell’s face, she gathered he thought the same.

“I’m a felon, Libby—a convicted felon.
 
I can get in anywhere.
 
It’s part of the job description.
 
You got any cookies?”

“I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow.”

“You know me.
 
I like the element of surprise.
 
And by the way, I’m touched that you—need me.”

Libby seethed.
 
“I don’t
need
you!
 
I can just get this job done faster with your help.”

“Because of what happened to your—lover boy?”
 
Caldwell laughed, as a nasty sneer flickered across Libby’s lips.
 
He sauntered to the couch to sit without being asked.
 
As he slid onto it, the plastic cover squeaked.
  
“You never should have left me for him in the first place.”

“I don’t want to talk about Otis.”

“I do.” Caldwell smiled.
 
“I want to hear all about what happened from you.
 
I only got a second hand report from Headquarters—when they explained why you
needed
me.
 
Baby, just why were you messing around with an amateur, anyway?”

“Shut up, Caldwell.”

“Oooo, temper, temper, Libby.
 
You know I’m still hot for you.”

“I don’t even like you!”

“At least you never tried to blow me away.
 
And just because you don’t like me—doesn’t mean you don’t want me.”

“Look, you’re only here to do a job!”

“But I wanna do you, too, baby.
 
Remember the—
explosive
chemistry between us?
 
I know you do, so don’t even try to fight it.
  
I was hoping we could build more than just one kind of fire.”

“And just what would your wife think about that?”

Caldwell shrugged.
 
“The same thing she thought the first time she caught us in bed.”

Libby grabbed her pack of cigarettes.
 
“Smoke,” she offered.

Caldwell took a stick of Juicy Fruit from his pocket.
 
“I’m trying to cut back.” He folded the gum into his mouth.

“Suit yourself.” Libby yanked out a cigarette with her mouth.

Caldwell moved from the couch.
 
“Allow me.” He pulled out a match and lit her Marlboro, then studied the flame as it burned the match stem.

“I suppose I should congratulate you on a job well done.”
 
Libby blew out a long stream of smoke.

“Which one?” Once the match flame touched Caldwell’s fingertips, he blew it out.

“Willie Cane.”

“I didn’t organize Willie Cane.
 
I thought you knew me better than that.
 
I don’t do torture and lynching.
 
I do arson and explosives.
 
If I’m gonna kill somebody, I make it quick and fast.
 
In an explosion a guy never knows what’s hit him.
 
Now, baby,” he smiled slyly, “let’s get back to us.
 
Why’d you leave me?”

“You know why.
 
You
wouldn’t leave your wife.”

“I can’t leave my wife, Libby, I love her.”

“And Otis loved me.”

“Then why’d you blow him away?”

“I had to.
 
Besides, I didn’t say I loved him.”

“Look, baby, just what did you think you could accomplish without me?
 
You’re only a woman in the whole scheme of things—and good for only one thing.
 
Take off your clothes.”

“Make me.”
 
Libby extinguished her cigarette in a cheap ceramic ashtray.

“Okay.”
 
Caldwell spit out his gum, then eagerly yanked down the back zipper of Libby’s daisy print dress.
 
After he shoved it from her shoulders, it fell in a puddle around her ankles.
 
Caldwell’s voice simmered with anticipation.
 
“You’re smokin’, baby.
 
There’s not much to you, but you know how to work what you got.”

Clad only in a polyester slip, Libby grabbed him hungrily around the neck.
 
Her nails dug deeply into his flesh as she kissed him.
 
The taste of Juicy Fruit and tobacco collided between them.
 
When Libby came up for air, she quickly removed her slip.

“I knew you were still hot for me,” Caldwell said, as his big clumsy fingers fumbled to undo her bulky Playtex bra.
 
Loosing her from the underwire, elastic straps and metal hooks proved a difficult undertaking.

Once he’d maneuvered her from the confines of the brassier, Libby ripped open his shirt, scattering black buttons across the floor.
 
She ran her hands voraciously over his large scarred chest.

Caldwell grabbed her around the waist.
 
“You, know, baby,” his whisper sizzled in her ear, “I remember—”

Libby pulled on his chest hairs making him wince. “Shut up and get naked.”

They collapsed in a sweaty heap, on the tacky smoothness of the squeaky, plastic coated couch.

****

It was before 9:00 A.M.
 
Ash sat in back of the black Oldsmobile while his driver headed for Libby’s apartment.
 
Two security personnel rode with Ash, one to watch Libby’s building, and the other to be stationed outside her door.
  
If Ash played his cards right, he thought, he could break her.

He was taking a gamble, and he’d be doing a good bit of bluffing, but hopefully, his strategy would pay off.
  
Although not legally involved in the investigation,
 
it certainly wouldn’t hurt to present Libby with a few facts she wasn’t aware of.

****

Libby awakened to the loud sound of pounding on her apartment door.
 
“Miss Willis, Governor Ash Kroth to see you.”

At the sound of Ash’s voice, Caldwell stirred.
 
Libby turned to him with a finger to her lips.
 
She quickly grabbed her bathrobe and ran to the door.
 
Opening it just a crack she said, “Good morning, Governor.
 
I—I’m not dressed—just right yet.”
 
She batted her eyes.
 
“Can you give me just a moment?”