Double Play

39.

Burke’s phone rang in the morning while he was still asleep. He glanced at his wristwatch on the night table as he answered. It was 6:10.

Burke said, “Hello.”

He could hear breathing at the other end of the phone line, but no one spoke. He fumbled a cigarette from the package beside his watch, and lit it. On an empty stomach it tasted harsh.

“Hello?” he said.

Breathing.

“I’ll give it one more hello,” Burke said.

“It’s me,” a voice said.

Burke knew the voice.

“Lauren,” he said.

“Yes. I just got home.”

“Un huh.”

“He’s going to kill Robinson,” she said.

“Who is.”

“Louis.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. If he knew I told you he’d kill me.”

“When?” Burke said.

“Sunday, during the doubleheader against Pittsburgh.”

“At Ebbets Field,” Burke said.

“Yes.”

“Tell me what you know,” Burke said.

“You can’t ever tell him I told,” she said.

“I won’t. Tell me what you know.”

“I don’t know anything else.”

“He told you he was going to kill Jackie,” Burke said. “Tell me about that.”

“Yes,” Lauren said. She seemed to be having trouble breathing.

“Okay,” she said. “Okay... we were drunk and crazy with pills and he said did I ever think about you... and I said no... which was a lie... and he said how about when we were doing it, you know, sex, did I ever pretend he was you... and I said no... And he said he didn’t believe me... And he laughed and said here’s something to get your attention... He said, I’m going to kill Jackie Robinson... And I said how about Burke, are you going to kill Burke... And he kind of laughed and said I’m not going to... As if maybe, you know, somebody else was.”

“Is it to get even with me?”

“I don’t know.”

“If that’s it, why not kill me?”

“His father. His father told him to stay away from you.”

“And he does what his father says?”

“If he says it... if he says it in a certain way... Louis is afraid of him.”

“Is he going to do it himself?”

Lauren laughed. Burke thought it sounded ugly.

“Of course not... He’ll have it done... He’ll want to watch... and giggle.”

“Do you know who will do it?”

“No. He has lots of people.”

“Can you find out any more?”

“No. God no. No. He’d kill me in an awful way if he knew I even called you.”

“I’ve got to tell the cops.”

“No. You can’t. He’d know. Please, please, please. You can’t.”

“Jesus Christ,” Burke said.

“My God, I hear him coming. Please!”

She hung up. Burke sat on the bed holding the phone for a time and then very slowly, as if it were difficult to do, he carefully placed the phone back in its cradle. He sat some more. The light outside his window got a lighter gray. From the bedside table, he picked up the big GI .45 which was his legacy of the war and looked at it for a moment. Then, holding it, he stood, and walked to the window, and looked down at the street, and watched the morning brighten.