(Author's note: Just wanted to give you all a heads up...the first half of this chapter is about the bad guys, and there is some very racist language that they use. They're words that I find really distasteful, but they were necessary for the story. Thanks for understanding. -Bruce)
Chapter 22
Jared held up his hand and the District Attorney finally stopped his questions. He sat still for a moment, palm still out.
He waited. It didn't take long. The man first straightened his tie, then his jacket. In only seconds, he was scratching the thin hair at the back of his head. Jared watched the lawyer's eyes sneak away from his own to the lieutenant who stood behind Jared's chair in the small motel room. He let the lawyer wait just a moment longer before he spoke.
"You seem to think this is a deposition. It's not. Remember, your reelection is the reason all of this is happening. You wanted this to happen." He waited again, watched the man fidget. While the D.A. had been the catalyst that had brought Jared here, he was still just a lawyer. Taken out of his office, the man seemed to have no power or backbone at all.
"I've done all that I can," District Attorney Giles said.
Jared pushed his palm out further and the lawyer stopped again. "We wanted a city to clean, you wanted a safer voting base, one with less of those other races who voted against you in the last election. That's happening, thanks to the work our people have done."
He watched Giles look around the small hotel room. The man looked as if he expected to find a reporter in the corner. "I understand that. And I appreciate what you've done. For all of us."
"That's very nice," Jared said. "But we still need your help."
"I've kept the police from investigating the fires as race related. I don't know what more..." The lawyer stopped as Jared leaned forward.
"Mr. Giles. Stop. Listen to me." Jared waited as Giles settled down into his seat, eyes still scanning the room. "There is someone out there killing our men. Killing good men and disrupting all of our plans. We can't have that. We need you to get the police to find him and kill him."
Giles opened his mouth, then waited. Jared nodded and the man spoke. "I've already made it a priority. There are officers from all over the city looking for him." Giles waited again, went on. "Maybe if your men laid low for a little while. He's only found them in the streets, he hasn't been near any of your safe houses."
Jared kept his face completely still. How did the District Attorney know where his safe houses were? He waited for the lawyer to go on.
"You're their leader. You can get them to stop. The ones in the hospital, your men, they're talking racist, they look racist. If they do that, I can't cover it up. You need to get them to stop," Giles said.
"Who says I'm their leader?" Jared asked.
Giles paused, looked around the room again.
"I'm just another concerned citizen, Mr. Giles," Jared said.
"Well, maybe someone, someone could tell them to stop for a while, to lay low."
"Do you think this is something that can be stopped?" The lawyer stared at him, with no answer. "You don't know your history, do you? You don't know what is happening here." Jared leaned forward and continued. "Some would call it banishment, others racial cleansing. It works. It works here in America. Have you heard of Monett, Harrison, Forsyth County, Corbin? There is a long list of places that evicted the blacks and stayed clean. You, Mr. Giles, may have wanted a few undesirable voters to move to another city, another state, but it's the good people here that decided to do the work."
Giles straightened in his chair. Jared sat and watched as the man puffed out his chest. "But it's just gone too far. The people won't support the level of violence. If you get too violent like this, the people will turn the other direction."
"You don't know history or people." Jared said. "When jobs get scarce, when stomachs get hungry, when they feel that their families are in danger, people come back to their group. That's who they protect. They feel that way now. So they are doing the work to evict the blacks, the Mexicans, the Asians. They want to protect their jobs. Just as you do. "
Jared stopped at the buzzing sound of a cell phone. Behind him, Martins dug into his pocket and after a moment held the phone so that only Jared could see it. He glanced at the screen and read the text message: FOUND HIM. Below that was an address, one that he knew. He'd asked Martins to arrange a search for the vigilante, and it had worked quickly.
They had spotted the killer near the apartment building where Harold lived. Where Harold had said that detective, Bryan Mickelson was looking for someone. Jared wasn't sure who Mickelson was looking for, but his suspicion about keeping the place under watch had paid off.
He motioned Martins down and whispered to him. "Tell them to follow him. At a distance. Then put a team together. We'll move on him at dawn." Martins nodded, stood back up.
Jared turned, faked a smile for the District Attorney. He was tired of this man's ineffectiveness and excuses. But he could still be useful. It was time to finish the conversation. "Let me put this clearly. This man is a threat to your goals. It was part of the plan, a vital part, that the other races form gangs and fight back. We had hoped that this would bring in the larger gangs from other areas. With that, it becomes the kind of racial issue we want. And all of those cozy people in the middle class would finally be able to admit to themselves that it really is all the fault of the blacks, the Mexicans, the Vietnamese. They started it, right? They are violent, dangerous people, and we have to stand against them before it's too late."
Jared leaned back in his chair. "All of those good people would need a leader to show them he isn't afraid to stand up for them." He smiled again, let Giles breathe a moment. "I understand how much you've done to help protect everyone, and that your hands are tied. But, do you feel that there is a threat now, to the people of this city?"
Giles stuttered, looked around again. "Yes?"
"From these other races?" Jared asked. "I'm just trying to get a feel for your commitment, that's all." His smile for the lawyer broadened.
"Yes," Giles said.
"And what do you call these other races?"
"What?" Giles asked.
"I know what I call them," Jared said. "What do you call them? Let me really hear it."
The lawyer's voice was tentative. "Niggers."
Jared clapped for him. "Very good. What else? What needs to be done with them? Tell me. Show me we're on the same side."
Giles grinned at him, chuckled. "Niggers, spics, wetbacks, chinks, slopes, towel heads, sand niggers, kikes." He stopped and Jared rolled his hands, pulled more from the lawyer. "We've got to get these bastards out of our city, out of our country. Show 'em they don't belong here."
Jared counted silently to five before he made any noise, he had to make sure the last part was clear. Then, he clapped again. "Very good. See, we are on the same side." He looked up to the man behind him. Martins was his newest lieutenant. He was less experienced, but Jared knew that battlefield promotions could train men quickly. "Can I see it?"
"Which one?" Martins asked.
"The close up." He watched the bewilderment on Giles' face as Martins walked to a closed drawer and pulled out a small video camera from under a pile of blankets. He unhooked the video and audio cables from it and handed it to Jared, who opened the view screen, pressed play and then kept his thumb on the rewind button.
He stopped when he saw the image of Giles stop talking. The video started playing back the last few seconds of the conversation. District Attorney Giles was slightly off center, and leaned partially out of frame when he squirmed, but the image was clear and in focus and the sound was good. He turned it for Giles to see. "These little bullet lenses are wonderful. We have several of them in the room." He waved at Martins. "My friend here set them up. Positioned your chair in just the right spot to get your good side."
Jared clicked the camera shut in one hand. He nodded to Martins, who started collecting the other cameras and the small lenses that were hidden around the room. "You'll help me protect our people. You'll keep any mention of racist activity out of the news until they start blaming the blacks for the violence. Finding and killing this vigilante will be the police department's number one priority." He set the camera down inside Martins' bag as he stood.
He leaned over Giles, picked up the lawyer's limp hand and as he shook it, he was already thinking about the slips the D.A. had made. Someone had told him about the safe houses, about Jared's position within the groups that were working in the city. Had this person also given information to the man who was killing his men? "Good to see you." He clapped Giles on the shoulder and walked out with Martins.
*