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Back Blood Grove
Chapters (55)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. Discover More
  53. Praise for Walter Mosley andBlood Grove
  54. About the Author
  55. Also by Walter Mosley

“Help!” he yelled again, louder than the man we’d already heard.

I pressed the metal edge against Pardlo’s throat hard enough to draw blood. My ears were hot and a rage passed through me that I hadn’t experienced in many years.

The multiracial spy looked up into my eyes with fear that went all the way down to species. There weren’t any words or bargains—just his death written on my face like a verse out of the Old Testament.

I was going to kill him. I had to kill him after all I’d been through. It was just Sorry’s gentle admonition that held me back for a second or three. Just enough time for the police to come through our cell door and throw me off.

They took the shiv and then beat me with their truncheons. But physical damage wasn’t their goal. They dragged the bleeding, banged-up, backstabbing traitor from the cell, leaving me innocent of murder through no fault of my own.

No one had come to the aid of the other man we heard being broken and brutalized. Combat was considered little more than polite conversation between inmates. But Pardlo was a spy. He was there to betray me and so fell under the protection of the law.

45

45

I hate the FBI. They think they’re so smart that they can’t be wrong. It’s never a mystery to them but a foregone conclusion. They were sure that I robbed the armored car and killed those guards. The only trick was to get my confession. That’s why my heart told me to kill Fenster. I didn’t have to confess. All the snitch had to do was say that I admitted to being involved in the heist and both Raymond and I would end up on the gallows telling jokes until the final punch line died on our tongues.

My heart was beating so hard that it hurt, but I didn’t have the luxury of concern.

I lay there thinking of what might be the key to the money I never possessed but that I owed still and all. The ticket on that debt was my life.

Kirkland Larker kept coming to mind. He brought my name into the mix. He sent Craig Kilian to me. He sat at Dennis Plennery’s table drinking beer, even dated Mona Strael.

Mona Strael.

A key worked its way into the lock of my cell. I hoped my new roommate was as see-through as Pardlo had been.

The door opened and Melvin Suggs came in followed by his number two. McCourt had to bow his head to make it across the threshold.

I sat up and asked, “What brings you guys here?”

“It’s a city jail,” Melvin explained. “There’s no real charge. I got a judge to kick you loose.”

“I gotta get to a phone.”