Cold Blue

“Get to the fucking point, Leon,” Thorpe interrupted.

“Anyway, I start trying to convince him that you planted the dope on us. I wasn’t lookin’ to get anyone in trouble, man; I was just tryin’ to get out of it. So I keep on him about this shit, tell him this sergeant pulled some dope out and planted it on Lyndale. Told him you said they weren’t going to let a bunch of niggas run around like we own the place. Man, I see this shit start to take a hold on him, so I just keep workin’ it. Pops starts making some phone calls, tells me to stay put, and leaves. A couple hours later he shows back up, tells me that some others had been set up by you, too. He wants me to come with him—tell my story to some other officers.

“So Pops puts me in his car and drives me over to Shaw’s house. I walk in and about shit myself. Those two white dudes weren’t there, but all them other niggas was. Plus another that wasn’t there tonight…Cole Daniels. This thing was snowballin’ now, but by this time…you know, it’s too late. Pops makes me tell them what happened, so I tell them the same shit I told my pops. I could see these guys just getting more and more pissed. Especially Price and Phipps, they was workin’ those other motherfuckers up. They start tellin’ ‘em ‘bout other brothers they heard you set up. Man, it starts getting real bad then. They was wantin’ your head. Everybody started arguin’ about what to do. Some people wanted to report you, but most said that wouldn’t do any good. Said all you white boys stick together, that nuttin’ would be done. Finally, Price just told everybody to settle down. He’d handle it. Told everybody to stay quiet about this, that they couldn’t trust the white man to do shit. After, Price pulled me to the side and got my cell phone number. Told me he would call later. Then Pops drove me away and told me not to talk about this anymore, that it’d be handled…”

Thorpe could picture the scene. Leon had fed their paranoia perfectly. They didn’t bother to question the validity of Leon’s or Price’s outrageous statements. They only heard what they wanted to believe—that they were being targeted by a racist white cop. Thorpe chose not to interrupt Leon’s recollection. He would pose questions when the man finished talking.

“…so I thought my part in all this shit was done. They wasn’t going to report it. Nothing official was going to happen. I went about my merry fuckin’ way. A few days later, Price calls and asks me if I remembered how to get to Shaw’s house. He gave me a time to come over that night and told me not to tell anyone what I was doin’, not even my pops. I’m nervous, I don’t know what the fuck he wants. So I show at his house, and there’s Baker, Price, Phipps, Corn Johnson, Thadius Shaw, Daniels, and that same white man that’s there tonight.”

“Is that Shaw’s house you were at tonight?” Thorpe asked.

“Yeah.”

“You said you don’t know who the white guy is?”

“No, man. I just seen him that night and tonight. That’s it.”

“What does he look like?”

“Man, I don’t know. He fo’ real don’t want to be seen. Both times he sits off in a corner with one of those fucking black ski masks on. Barely says a word, and when he does, he whispers like that actor in that fucking Batman movie. Don’t want to be known.”

“You think he’s a cop?”

“Fuck I know. Even though he don’t say nuttin’ the others kinda look at him like he’s ru

Thorpe was frustrated. “You gotta know his height, weight, something?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know, man. He’s always sitting and wearing a big coat and shit. Might be about your size, might be fatter.”

Thorpe wasn’t getting anywhere in regards to the mysterious white man. “Go ahead with your story, Leon.”

“So Price asks me how I’d like to get back the guy who sent my brother to prison. And I ask how I was go

“Later, Price calls and asks me if the house is still empty. I told him yeah, but really I wasn’t even watchin’ the damn place anymore. Price didn’t know that. He told me to keep watchin’ until I was told I could leave, told me to call him if anyone went to the house. Shit, I was already halfway across town, but I wasn’t going to tell Price that. Later that night, Price calls me, and he’s mad as a motherfucker…tells me the house wasn’t empty. He wants to see me, but I made up some excuse…I wasn’t about to go meet him. He tells me to keep my mouth shut until we could talk.

“The next day the shit about what went down at your place was all over the fuckin’ news. Then I heard the Double D Brothers were lit up the same night. I put two and two together, man…fuckin’ Price killed those niggas…I know it. Figured I was next. I was the only non-cop left in the know—my dad being one was probably only thing kept me alive. I put all this shit I’m tellin’ you to paper and gave it to someone to keep safe. I told Price he’d better make sure I stayed healthy, or that letter would be sent to the feds with a copy to my dad. They would’ve killed my black ass if I didn’t take out that little insurance policy on myself. That’s it, man! That’s the whole story. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt. I didn’t even want to watch your house, but they made me. Please don’t kill me, man…I feel real bad about what happened to your wife and kid. That shit ain’t right. Please, man! I promise I won’t tell nobody. Just kill those motherfuckers…I’ll fucking help you do it.”

Leon put all this on paper? Thorpe thought.

“Where’s that letter you wrote, Leon?”

“My law…hey…that’s…uhh…if I die the cops are going to know all this shit. They’ll know the whole story. You can’t kill me! You’ll be suspect number one if you start doing these other motherfuckers. You gotta let me live. Killing me will get you in the joint.”

Leon made a good point—smart little bastard. “Where’s the letter you wrote?” Thorpe repeated.

“Fuck you, nigga, that letter go

Thorpe scooped up Leon’s legs before he could react, lifted them off the ground, and with all his strength yanked backward on the small man. Tendons and bones gave way as Leon’s arms, which had been restrained to the railing behind his lower back, now extended straight above his head. Thorpe dropped his contorted prisoner to the ground. The scream that followed barely sounded human and had to be stifled with the rag.

“Leon, you were doing so well, but then you had to go and get disrespectful. You are going to tell me where that letter is. It’s just a matter of how much pain you’re willing to endure first.”

Leon vomited, prompting Thorpe to remove the rag. The man’s arms no longer presented a threat so Thorpe cut the Flexcuffs and rolled Leon over on his side to prevent him from asphyxiating on his own puke.