Double Play

31.

Burke called Julius Roach from a pay phone near the clubhouse door.

“Nice to hear your voice again, Burke. What can I do for you.”

“I need to talk with whatever colored guy runs the rackets in Harlem.”

“And you think I would know?” Roach said.

“Yes sir.”

“Would you care to tell me why you want this?”

“No sir.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a moment.

Then Roach said, “Call me tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

Again silence.

“Have you heard at all from my daughter,” Roach said.

“No.”

Silence.

“She all right?” Burke said finally.

“Certainly,” Roach said.

“Give her my best.”

“No,” Roach said. “I don’t think I will.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Burke said.

Burke closed his eyes and stood with the phone still in his hand for a long time after Roach hung up. He pressed his shoulder blades against the wall and rolled the back of his head slowly back and forth on the concrete, until Jackie showed up.

“How long you been with your wife,” Burke said to Jackie as they drove home.

“Met her in 1941,” Jackie said. “We were both at UCLA.”

“You been together since.”

“Yes. Got married ’bout a year and a half ago.”

“Any regrets?” Burke said.

“It’s the greatest thing I ever did,” he said. “Who we talking about here?”

Burke shook his head.

“We talking about you and that girl that likes bad men?”

“What the fuck do you know?” Burke said.

Jackie smiled.

“Hell,” he said. “I been to college.”

Burke snorted. They drove in silence for a time, until Jackie spoke again.

“What if you turned out not to be so bad a guy as you think you are?”

Burke shrugged.

“And she liked you anyway?”

Burke shrugged again.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said.

“You brought it up,” Jackie said.

“I just asked about your wife.”

“Sure,” Jackie said. “I guess that’s right.”