Mississippi Blood

  “Even in Billy Byrd’s sloppy operation, there might have been some written or photographic record of Caucasian hairs being found. Records Jewel had seen and would remember.”

  Quentin’s eyes look a little brighter now. “They replaced hairs belonging to Snake Knox and Sonny Thornfield. That’s what you’re thinking?”

  “If those bastards were in that house, they left trace evidence. Unless they wore hairnets, they would have left hairs at the scene.”

  “Gray hairs,” said Quentin, grinning. “Maybe the deputies substituted their daddies’ hair for Knox’s and Thornfield’s.”

  “Maybe so. But it certainly seems worth pursuing.”

  Quentin nods noncommittally. “I’m going to see your father once more tonight. There’s a deputy there who’ll let me in. You met him when you were in the jail.” Quentin cuts his eyes at Serenity. “As a resident.”

  “Are you going to talk to Dad about the hair and fiber stuff?”

  “Yes. I’ll call you when I leave the jail. Now, get out of here. I’ve got a meeting to go to, thanks to you.”

  “How about we give you an escort?” I ask, not joking at all.

  Quentin shoos us toward the door. “Didn’t you hear what I said to Joe? This is brother to brother. No honkies allowed. Now if you want to send Miss Black Universe here with me for protection . . .”

  “That’s not happening,” Doris says from the shadows behind him.

  “Then I’m going alone.”

  Chapter 45

  Deke Devine’s Winnebago squeaked to a stop at the end of my block just as promised, and Serenity and I stepped through the side door into the cramped RV. Deke sat behind the wheel, and his face darkened when he saw Serenity climb the steps.

  “You were supposed to come alone!” he snapped.

  “I’m not walking into a meeting with any Double Eagles—or their families—alone. You’re lucky I didn’t bring my main security team.”

  “Get somebody else,” said his mother from our left. “Not her.”

  Nita Devine stood in the narrow aisle of the RV, clinging to a handle above her head to maintain balance.

  “Mrs. Devine,” I said evenly, “the federal government—including the Justice Department—is staffed with thousands of black employees. If you plan to cut a deal to save your family with witness protection, you’d better get used to black faces.”

  She chewed her lower lip for several seconds. Then she said, “Get moving, Deke. Head for the bypass.”

  As the RV lurched forward, Nita steadied herself, then squeezed herself into the space between a leatherette bench and a removable table attached to a post stuck into the floor.

  “Well, sit down,” she said. “Let’s get to it. They’ll get suspicious if I don’t get back quick.”

  “Who will?” I asked.

  “Those motorcycle gangsters. They’re watching our house again. All the Eagles’ houses. They switch up.”

  “Your husband is at home?”

  She nodded. “My other son’s with him. You met him.”

  We pulled two small plastic chairs from the “den” of the RV up to the little table. Nita Devine took a pack of cigarettes from her purse and lit one without asking if we minded. Her hands shook, and her eyes held more emotions than I could separate—chief among them desperation.

  “You told me the government would give Will a good deal. That they could keep him safe. Keep us all safe.”

  “I’m reasonably sure of that, yes. But it always depends on the information the witness can provide.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that. Will knows everything. About the Double Eagles, I mean. He was there from the beginning. Or almost the beginning.”

  “He saw them kill people?”

  A bitter laugh comes from her throat. “He still has nightmares to this day. The older he gets, the worse they get.”

  Serenity holds up her hand and says, “Why is your husband suddenly willing to talk after all these years?”

  At first I don’t think Mrs. Devine is going to deign to speak to the black interloper in her Winnebago. But at length she says, “Because he finally knows what I been telling him all along is true. Snake Knox don’t give a damn about Will or any of the others, except to the degree he can use them. Him and Sonny killed Glenn Morehouse, their childhood friend. Then Snake killed Sonny—his best friend—in the Concordia jail. Strangled him with a towel while they all held him still. Then he ordered Silas Groom killed to frame him for bombing that FBI plane, when we all know Snake done that.”

  “You know that for a fact?” I ask.

  “Will does.”

  “What else does he know? Does he know anything about Viola Turner?”

  Nita grimaced and blew out smoke. “He knows everything, I told you. Most all the Double Eagles raped that woman, you know. Two different times. The first time it was just a small group, at her house. Snake and Frank and Forrest, a couple more. But that second time, in the machine shop . . . Lord, they tore that girl up. If Ray Presley hadn’t got her out and back to Dr. Cage, she’d have died up in there.”

  I feel as though Serenity’s body temperature has dropped ten degrees. I don’t risk turning to look at her. I need to hold Nita Devine’s gaze to my own. If she feels Serenity’s fury, she might clam up.

  “Will said that himself?”

  “The machine shop? Oh, yeah. He took his turn like all the rest. Cheatin’ bastard.”

  “What else do you know about Viola?”

  “Dr. Cage got her out of town somehow, but Snake and Sonny found her in Chicago later. They wanted to kill her, but the big boss said no.”

  “The big boss?”

  “Carlos Marcello. The mob boss of New Orleans. I think he had some kind of understanding with Dr. Cage. Marcello said they couldn’t kill Viola unless she broke the deal she’d made and came back to Natchez.”

  My heart begins to pound. “Will told you that?”

  She nods, then takes a long drag from her cigarette. Smoke floats slowly from her mouth as she continues speaking. “They told her then they’d kill her if she ever came back.”

  “What about later?” Tee asks. “After she got back here? Did they threaten her then?”

  “He doesn’t know that for sure. He says they went to see her at least once, during the day, he thought. He doesn’t know what they said. But they borrowed his pickup on the night she died, and he didn’t have no option to say no, if you get my meaning.”

  “What exactly do you mean?”

  “I mean, they wanted it because they was going out to do something illegal. And they didn’t want to use their own vehicle.”

  “But why use your husband’s truck? He’s also a Double Eagle.”

  “Because they’re lazy shits, that’s why. They didn’t have to walk but two streets over to get Will’s truck. And they didn’t ever expect to get caught. So they figured that was enough insulation.”

  That’s enough, I think. If Devine will testify to this in Dad’s trial, he will guarantee an acquittal.

  Nita Devine raises her finger and shakes it at me. “But none of this even begins to count all the nigras they beat and burned out and killed back in the day. Or the women they messed with. Hell, for Snake and his bunch, that was just fun and games.”

  Serenity’s breathing has gone shallow, and I worry she might lash out at Devine’s wife.

  “Mrs. Devine,” I say quickly, “do you have any idea where Snake is now?”

  She shakes her head. “No. And you won’t find him easy. Snake’s a survivor. And people are scared to death of him. He could be living next door to them and they know it, and they won’t tell you nothing.”

  “But your husband will,” I say softly.

  “If the deal is right. It wasn’t easy, I tell you. Frank Knox brainwashed all those boys, way back. Made them think they were heroes. They thought Frank was a hero, and maybe he was, but he made them think they could be like him. Bigger than life, you know? But Snake Knox a
in’t bigger than life. He’s lower than snake shit. He’s the spawn of the fuckin’ devil, sure as I tell you. And that Wilma Deen is just as bad. Helped him kill her own damn brother. How low can you fuckin’ get, I ask you?”

  Nita stubs out her cigarette and lights another, blows the smoke over Serenity’s head.

  A thought strikes me. “There’s a young guy I’ve seen around, blond. Looks like he’s in the Hitler Youth or something. Do you—”

  “Alois Engel. That’s Snake’s bastard son. Had him off a woman over in Texas. Never did a damn thing to take care of the kid, but now the little bastard worships him. And he’s just like a baby rattlesnake. Smaller in size, but the poison’s twice as deadly to make up for it.”

  Great.

  “Now,” Nita says, “I’ve shown you mine. Time for you to pull down your drawers and show me yours. Let’s talk about the deal.”

  I nod, thinking hard. “Deke can start back toward my house. This won’t take long.”

  “Did you hear that, boy?” she calls.

  “I heard him. I’ll take the Liberty Road turnoff and head back downtown.”

  I wave my hand in thanks.

  “Okay, Mrs. Devine. What you’re almost certainly looking at is full protection for your family. A move to another part of the country, and—”

  “Can we pick where?”

  “Ah, you might be given two or three choices. But you can’t just pick a city off the map.”

  “Okay.”

  “They’ll either get Will a job or provide him a pension sufficient to support you in your present standard of living.”

  She makes a sour face. “I guess we haven’t won the lottery, huh?”

  “No. But you’ll be surprised at how well they’ll take care of you. If Will keeps up his end of the deal. Why don’t you let me talk to my FBI contact before we get into any more details? Then you can speak to him directly.”

  “Sounds good to me. I like to get it from the horse’s mouth.”

  I almost laugh picturing John Kaiser dealing with this woman.

  “There is one thing,” I tell her, leaning forward. “For me, it’s the most important thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The FBI’s primary goal is nailing Snake Knox and the remaining Eagles for their 1960s murders. But my main concern is saving my father.”

  Mrs. Devine nods but says nothing.

  “From what you’ve told me, Will has the power to get my father acquitted, by making reasonable doubt impossible to ignore. But to do that, he’d have to testify in my father’s trial within the next two days. Possibly even tomorrow. And I doubt Will’s plea deal can be completed by then.”

  The fear in her eyes rises to the surface again. “So he wouldn’t have the federal protection?”

  “Oh, he’d be protected. Absolutely.”

  She begins chewing her lip again. “I know Dr. Cage is a good man. He took good care of Will when he worked at Triton, and my sister and aunts all go to him. They swear by him.”

  “Do you think Will would be willing to help my father, if I help him arrange this plea-bargain deal? I’ll tell you right now, the feds won’t consider it a priority. Your husband will have to insist on it.”

  Nita takes another drag with her quivering hand. “We ain’t no fans of the government. I just want to know Will is safe.”

  “I can guarantee that, Nita.”

  A new glint shines in her eyes. “If he does that, you reckon you could sweeten the pot a little? You personally, I mean. We ain’t greedy. Just something to help with the transition.”

  I take a deep breath before answering, and in the silence I hear Serenity grinding her teeth. “How much were you thinking?”

  “Well . . . twenty-five thousand?”

  I look down at the table, taking my time with this. I expected her to start much higher, and of course there’s always time for them to go up, once they know they have me over a barrel.

  “It’s a big risk,” I tell her. “The FBI would flip out if they knew we did something like that. They might revoke the agreement.”

  She’s watching me like a hungry dog waiting to snatch a piece of food from my plate.

  “But I could probably find a way to get that to you in cash. But—”

  “Fifty,” she says suddenly, looking almost defiant. “Fifty cash, and I’ll guarantee Will stands up for Doc Cage in court.”

  This kind of agreement breaks so many laws I don’t even want to think about it. “Tomorrow? He’ll testify tomorrow for fifty?”

  “You get me the money and guarantee his safety, and it’s a deal.”

  “Don’t ask me for a dollar more later. You do that, and I’ll tell the FBI. And it’ll blow your deal.”

  She holds up both hands and grins. “Fifty’s it, baby doll. Fifty’s good.”

  Five excruciating minutes later, they let Serenity and me out on the corner of Washington and Union again. Tee looks like she’s about to throw up. After the Winnebago rumbles away, she hugs herself and shivers.

  “I feel like I need a bath,” she says, her voice dripping with disgust.

  “That’s your KKK elite right there.”

  “Did you hear her talking about what they did to Viola? All she cared about was that her fat-ass husband cheated on her to rape a black woman.”

  “I thought you might lose your cool, but you stayed cold. You were like an ice statue.”

  Tee’s eyes flash with fury. “Not on the inside. Man, when she said ‘nigras’ I nearly went across that table and snatched her tongue out of her head. It was worse than any time I ever heard ‘nigger.’”

  “I knew it would be bad. But you insisted on going.”

  “Oh, I’m glad I went. Some things you can’t learn any other way. And that was one of them. Penn . . . think about spending tax dollars to protect that trash. I say give them to Snake. Or better yet, throw them in Angola and let the black gangs eat ’em up. That’d be fair payback right there.”

  “I think somebody needs a drink.”

  She catches my upper arm and squeezes hard. “Boy, you read my mind.”

  “I have to call Kaiser first.”

  “I’m good,” she says, glancing up at my town house in the middle of the block. “I’m actually glad to be out of the house for a while. Cabin fever, you know?”

  I already have my cell phone out. Speed-dialing Kaiser, I have to wait only two rings.

  “Penn?” he says. “What’s up?”

  “Are you alone, John?”

  “Give me five seconds.”

  I hear shuffling and rustling, then Kaiser says, “Go.”

  “Think about Dolores St. Denis and her potential as a witness against the Double Eagles. Are you doing that?”

  “Uh . . . yeah. What kind of game is this?”

  “Now multiply that by ten.”

  Kaiser says nothing for several seconds. Then he whispers, “You son of a bitch. You flipped an Eagle.”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Don’t even think about coming to me. I’m busy. And this witness is not, repeat not, with me. Not even close to me. But he is going to make you the most famous FBI agent in recent history.”

  “You know I don’t give a damn about that.”

  Kaiser’s telling the truth about this. “I know. But there’s nothing wrong with a little well-deserved acclaim. Especially for someone in trouble with his bosses.”

  “You’re right. Thank you. Now, why do I feel like you’re applying Vaseline all of a sudden?”

  “Because I have one condition.”

  “Oh, shit. What’s that?”

  “Before he testifies for you, he testifies for my father. Tomorrow.”

  This time the silence lasts so long I think we’ve dropped our connection. But then Kaiser says, “There’s no way in hell we’re going to get a plea deal negotiated by tomorrow. Not in time.”

  “This witness is sui generis, John. He can bring down al
l that remains of the deadliest domestic terror cell in U.S. history. You can sell that. I know you can.”

  “Then I’d better get started. I need the guy’s name.”

  “Not over the phone.”

  “Of course not.”

  “Serenity and I are headed to a bar. Say . . . the Corner Bar. You know it?”

  “I’ve enjoyed many a scotch there since my confinement in Natchez. Me and my boys also get to steak night there now and again.”

  “We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  Chapter 46

  Quentin Avery had driven his wheelchair down the sidewalk that ran along the bluff from Edelweiss to where the old pecan-shelling plant used to stand. He’d thought of getting Doris to drive him to the meeting, but he knew that Joe Elder would feel safer with no one else around. Too, he’d wanted to feel the wind that raced up the face of the bluff after crossing the whole flat plain of Texas and Louisiana. The first part of his journey had been well lighted, and he’d passed a few lovers strolling along the fence back toward the center of town. But the streetlights grew farther apart out by the old pecan plant site. He was glad to see Elder’s tall silhouette waiting for him when he arrived.

  “That you, Quentin?” Joe called.

  “It is.”

  “Where’d you come from?”

  “Edelweiss. Penn Cage’s house down by Silver Street.”

  “All that way in your wheelchair?”

  “I’ve got good batteries. And I’m not an invalid yet.”

  “I didn’t mean that. It’s just late for a . . .”

  “A stroll?” Quentin said with a bitter chuckle.

  “Yeah.”

  Elder had been gazing out over the river, but Quentin turned toward what was left of the foundations of the old plant. “You know, when I was a boy, I used to sell pecans to this place. We’d sneak onto people’s land and pick up what we could before they chased us off. Then come sell them here.”

  “Nobody ever arrested you?”

  “I got bit by a couple of dogs, but no cops got me.”

  “What a loss that would have been to the legal profession.”

  Quentin laughed at Elder’s sarcasm.