“Lay off. For your own good. That boy spells trouble." "What of it? Trouble is our business." "Trouble for everyone." "Oh, well, homicide will get him. They need him." "Anyway, you can have a go at the other witnesses." "Don't throw us no bones, boss. If any of those people picked up last night had known anything, they would have been to hell and gone away from there." "Then you can have the men with the red fezzes." "Lieutenant, let me tell you something. Most... black men in Harlem who wear red fezzes are Black Muslims, and they're the most bitterly against this shit. Or else they're playing like they're Black Muslims, and they'd be risking their lives running down the street with a stolen pair of pants." "Maybe, maybe not. Anyway, be discreet. Don't rake any more muck than necessary." Grave Digger's neck began to swell and the tic went off in Coffin Ed's face. "Listen, Lieutenant," Grave Digger said thickly.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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