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Chapter 31
I felt comfortablewith these two. They hadn’t bothered to give me any names, and I wasn’t going to ask. This wasn’t an official investigation. I didn’t have to write any reports.
The chunky man and the thin man led me into the next block. A man who could have been anywhere between fifty and seventy-five was balancing on a plastic chair with only three legs. His sparse gray hair circled around a bald crown over one of the darkest complexions I’d ever seen. His right eye was gauzy with cataracts. Half of his teeth were missing. The others were yellowed and jutted out in odd directions. He had that worn look of a man who had lived on the streets a long time.
The chunky man said, “Charles, tell this man about what you saw two years ago when that lady was killed in her car.”
I looked again at the old man. He lowered the bent cigarette he was smoking and squinted up at me with his filmy eye. The man said, “I seen two people pull up in that fancy car. About ten minutes after it parked, one person got out and walked away alone.” Before I could ask any questions, Charles added, “And no, I couldn’t see the person walking away. Not sure if it was a man or a woman. But I could tell they were white. That’s about the only thing that stands out in this neighborhood.”
My chunky guide prodded the man some more. “Tell him the rest, Charles.”
“I tried to tell the cops. They just told me to get lost. Never got to tell no one. No one who matters. Ain’t no one ever going to believe a white person murdered someone in this neighborhood, then just walked away. But I swear to Jesus, it happened.”
The thin man looked down and said, “You get your water for the day, Charles?”
The homeless man held up two bottles in one hand.
To me, the thin man said, “Some of the people who live on the streets forget about the basics. We make sure they have water and arrange for them to wash up at the community center down the street.”
I asked a few more questions but quickly realized the only firm detail was that someone had walked away from the car. That reinforced my theory that the homicide had had nothing to do with anyone local.
My two guides led me back to my car. As we walked, I said, “This neighborhood might be in bad shape without you guys.”
The chunky guy said, “The neighborhood is in bad shape. No one gives a shit about these people. None of the city resources come to us—except to arrest someone or put out a fire. The entire country has the wrong idea about neighborhoods like this.”
“Is there anything I can do to help? Sort of a thank-you for your guidance.”
“You can pray for us. And if you go by the community center at the end of the block, they take donations.”
“I’m headed there right now.” I shook hands with both men. They had reinforced my belief that most people are basically good.
