The Righteous Cut by Robert Skinner Page A

don’t be tryin’ to jive me. Who you lookin’ for?”
    â€œAn old friend visited me today. Said her daughter’s been kidnapped. She asked me to help find her.”
    Lucas nodded. “That’d be Mrs. Georgia Richards. That story’s all over town by now. Whoever snatched the girl also stuck a chiv into a brutha named Butterbean Glasgo. He left a wife and six kids.”
    â€œDamn. I didn’t know. Georgia didn’t mention it.”
    â€œNo,” Lucas said in a somber voice. “Don’t reckon she did.” He sipped some rum, ruminated for a moment. “Funny that should happen today.”
    Farrell cut his eyes at his friend. “Funny? In what way?”
    â€œSeems like Councilman Richards is havin’ a run of bad luck this week. Las’ night, his right-hand man, Jack Amsterdam, got his lights put out in the Bella Creole Hotel. They sayin’ that a whore rolled him.”
    Farrell studied his friend’s face. “If that’s a coincidence, I’ll take up needlepoint.”
    â€œThat’s pretty much the way I feel, too.”
    Farrell rubbed a thumb over his chin. “If Richards weren’t so big in this town, I’d be tempted to think somebody was trying to jerk the rug out from under him.”
    Little Head shrugged. “When you’re that big, there’s always somebody lookin’ to take your place.”
    â€œBut who’s big enough to tackle Richards? He’s got more than just guns going for him. He helped elect the mayor and Sheriff Tim Marrero has won three elections thanks to Richards’ money and influence.”
    Little Head nodded. “That’s all true, but the man’s made some big enemies. I can think of several right off the bat that he hurt, but they all come back from it. And they all got money, men, and patience.”
    Farrell studied his friend’s face, waiting for him to tell his story at his own speed.
    â€œNumber one on the list is Kurt Van Zandt,” the big man continued. “He had a hell of a big gamblin’ operation he operated outa some warehouses down river from here. Richards wanted a piece of it. When Van Zandt said no, Richards sent in enough guns to wreck it.”
    â€œUh, huh.”
    â€œNext on the list is King Arboneau. When he wouldn’t let Richards in, he used the Zoning Commission and various laws to condemn or confiscate most of the King’s prime real estate. On top of that, he had King’s son killed.”
    â€œI thought Tel Arboneau died drunk when a train smashed into his car at the Bywater crossing.”
    Little Head smiled. “Uh-uh, brutha. Lenny Schwarz, the coroner’s stenographer, told me Tel was dead from a broken neck long before the train got there.”
    â€œInteresting. So who’s number three?”
    â€œRemember Old Man Tarkington?”
    â€œSure. He owned a big sugar refinery. I heard he was gunned down on a country road.”
    Little Head chuckled. “Uh, huh. Anyhow, Richards got his hands on the refinery and it gave him a respectable front—that’s how he got what he needed to get started in politics, my man.”
    â€œHow did he get the refinery?”
    â€œTarkington didn’t have no family but a nephew, man named Neil Gaudain. Gaudain didn’t know what the refinery was worth. Richards kinda made sure of that by scarin’ all the other bidders off. By the time Gaudain understood how bad Richards had cheated him, a coupla years had gone by. The way I hear it, Gaudain’s stayin’ alive just so he can dance on Richards’ grave.”
    Farrell drummed his fingers on the tabletop as he gazed at the Negro from under an arched eyebrow. “How the hell do you know all this stuff? Have you got a librarian working in the back room who compiles it for you?”
    Little Head sighed. “No, its just when you sit in one spot all day, people is always comin’ past