Bluff Walk. Charles R. Crawford

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СКАЧАТЬ shut up,” Amanda said to me, “and you quit being so pig-headed stubborn and tell the man what you know,” she added, jabbing her finger at Amanda.

      “I know he gone, and he ain’t comin’ back, that’s what I know,” she said, her eyes still defiant but her voice breaking.

      “Tell him, Lucy, just tell him,” Amanda said quietly.

      “’Bout three weeks ago, Thomas was over at my house on a Friday night like always, eatin’ supper and drinking wine with me when the police come knocking on the door. They said Thomas been dealin’ crack, and started to read him his rights, like they do on TV. Thomas, he been drinking a lot, and he say he ain’t had nothing to do with crack, and that the policeman is a lying nigger. The other police, he white, he shoot Thomas with one of them cattle prod guns. Thomas jerk like he havin’ a fit and fall down on the floor and start throwing up on the black cop’s shoes, and so he get mad and whack Thomas on the back two three times with his night stick. I started in after him with the bottle of wine but the white cop pull his gun and say “freeze, nigger.” I know I ain’t doing no good against a gun with a bottle of Thunderbird, so I do what he say. Then they each grabs aholt of Thomas and drag him out my house and th’ow him in the police car.”

      “When did you see him next, Ms. Tuggle?” I asked.

      “I ain’t never seen him again,” she said with a sob. I was afraid for a moment that she was going to break down, but she pulled herself together and went on without any prompting.

      “He called me next day and said they set bond on him of twenty thousand, and he already paid it and was out. He said he be over the next Friday night like always for dinner, but he didn’t come. I tried to call him three four times, but he never answer, and when he didn’t come over the next Friday night, I got my friend to carry me over to his house. Thomas wasn’t home, and his neighbors say they ain’t seen him in a couple of weeks. “

      “I’ve been over to the neighborhood and asked around, too. Nobody has seen him,” Amanda added.

      “Have you called the police,” I asked, “or is that a stupid question?”

      “You’re right, that’s a stupid question,” Amanda said. “They are obviously looking for Thomas, too. He missed his first hearing.”

      Ms. Tuggle spoke up, “No, I ain’t called the police, ‘cause that sho’ wouldn’t be what Thomas wanted me to do and they ain’t nobody else to call cept Amanda.”

      “When you went over to the house, did either one of you go inside?” I asked.

      “I don’t have a key,” Ms. Tuggle said.

      “What about a court order to get in?” I asked.

      “Another stupid question,” Amanda said. “That would involve filing a missing person’s report with the police.”

      “And the police would want to come with you to the house, right?” I asked them both.

      Now they both gave me the blank stare.

      “Look,” I said, “if Thomas is wanted for crack dealing and bail jumping, the cops can get into his house anyway. We might as well go in and see what we can find.”

      Lucy looked at Amanda, and Amanda said to me, “No cops.”

      “Okay. What line of business is your son in, Ms. Tuggle?” I asked.

      “He’s in a good line of business, but I don’t know what it is. I know it ain’t no crack business.”

      “Do you know the name of his bail bond company?” I asked.

      “He probably used Ajax Bond, that’s who he got to help me last year when I got in a fight with that woman who used to stay next door. She a crack ‘ho and the police arrest me for assault. What kind of justice is that?”

      Lucy Tuggle was obviously a member of that large subculture who knew the practical aspects of the criminal justice system from personal experience. A good bail bondsman was an essential part of existence, and probably sent a card at Christmas.

      “What about a lawyer, Ms. Tuggle? Had Thomas ever used one before?”

      “The last time he was in trouble, he had some no account cracker who didn’t know what he was doing. I went down to the trial to testify as a character witness, and he wouldn’t even put me on the stand, made me stay out in the hall. I don’t even remember his name, but Thomas promised me when he got out of the penal farm that he wouldn’t never use him again.”

      I could imagine Lucy Tuggle’s effect on a jury, and knew that Amanda could, too. I purposefully did not look at Amanda as I asked why Thomas had been sent to the penal farm.

      “I don’t remember,” she answered.

      “You don’t remember?” I asked. “It might in some way help me find Thomas.”

      “No, I don’t remember.”

      I looked at Amanda for help, but she offered none.

      “Is there anything else you can tell me that might help me? Names of friends, other family, business associates?” I asked.

      “I don’t know his friends and we got no other family. I don’t know nothing about his business.”

      “Ms. Tuggle, you understand that I’m not a policeman. If there’s anything that might help, I would like to know it,” I said.

      Apparently, she had not heard me.

      Before I could say anything else, Amanda added, “I have Thomas’s picture and address, John. I’ll give them to you before you leave. Lucy, I’m sure John will do everything he can to find Thomas.”

      Lucy conveyed her doubts in my ability by snorting, heaved herself up out of her chair, and shuffled out of the office.

      As the door closed behind her, Amanda turned to me and said, “No cracks from you, buddy.”

      “You don’t know me as well as you think you do, Amanda,” I said. “If we were having a be polite to Ms. Tuggle contest, I’d be the clear winner. I believe you were the one who called her pig-headed.”

      “It’s one thing how you treat her to her face, it’s another what you say after she’s gone,” Amanda said.

      “Well, I won’t say she’s a vision of loveliness and I plan to ask her out,” I said, “but she is a mother concerned about her son, and I feel bad for her, even if I can’t relate to sitting around with my mom getting shit-faced on cheap wine. Maybe with Dad.”

      Amanda curled one side of her lovely lips, but only asked, “Do you feel bad enough to look for Thomas?”

      “First, tell me how you know her.”

      “Lucy and I grew up together,” Amanda said. “She comes to me when she has a problem.”

      “You mean you went to private school together and swam at the country club while your mothers played tennis?”

      “You know СКАЧАТЬ