THE SIMPLE TRUTH

Rufus waved it off. “I don’t need to see that. You got the same way about you too.”

“Even if they ain’t in on it, what the hell can they do to help?” Josh asked.

Rufus looked over at Fiske and Sara. “You both talk real good and quick. You got an answer to that one?”

“I work at the Supreme Court, Mr. Harms,” Sara said. “I know all the justices. If you have evidence that shows you’re innocent, then I promise you it will be heard. If not by the Supreme Court, then by another court, believe me.”

Fiske added, “The detective on the case knows something is fishy. If you tell us what’s going on, we can go to him and get him to explore that angle.”

“I know the truth,” Rufus said again.

“That’s great, Rufus, but the fact is, in a court of law it’s not the truth unless you can prove it,” Fiske said.

Sara said, “What was in your appeal, then?”

“Rufus, don’t you answer that, dammit!” Josh yelled.

Rufus ignored him. “Something the Army sent me.”

“Did you kill the little girl, Rufus?” Fiske asked.

“I did,” he said, looking down. “At least my hands did.

The rest of me didn’t know what the hell was going on. Not after what they done to me.”

“What do you mean by that? Who did what to you?”

“Rufus, he’s looking to trick you,” Josh warned.

“Messed with my head, that’s what,” Rufus said.

Fiske eyed him sharply. “Are you pleading some sort of insanity? Because if you are, you don’t have a chance in hell.” He watched Rufus intently. “But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”

“Why you say that?” Rufus said.

“Because my brother took whatever was in that appeal very seriously. Seriously enough that he broke the law by taking it, and lost his life trying to help you. He wouldn’t have done that for some twenty-five-year-old insanity plea. Tell me what it was that cost my brother his life.”

Josh put one big hand on Fiske’s chest and pushed him hard against the back of the couch. “Look here, Mr. Smart-ass, Rufus here didn’t ask your brother to do jack-shit for him. Your brother was the one that blew this whole thing up sky-high. He had to come check Rufus out cuz he’s some old colored man sitting in some old prison for some old crime. So don’t sit there singing that song ’bout your ‘righteous brother.’ ”

Fiske ripped the hand away. “Why don’t you go to hell, you sonofabitch!”

Josh moved the pistol closer to Fiske’s face and said menacingly, “Why don’t I send you there first? I catch up with you later. How’s that sound, whitebread?”

“Please don’t,” Sara implored. “Please, he’s just trying to help.”

“I don’t need no damn help from the likes of you.”

“We’re only trying to get your brother justice in a court of law.”

Josh shook his head. “I can get me justice in a court all by myself. We done overwhelmed your white asses. Prisons full of us and you just too cheap to build more. So I can get me mor’n justice in a court. Problem is I can’t get me none on the outside, and damn if that ain’t where I spend most of my time.”

“This ain’t the way to handle things,” Rufus said.

“Oh, so now you know the way to handle everything all of a sudden?” said Josh.

Fiske was growing more nervous. Josh Harms sounded like he was at the point where maybe even his brother would have no control over him. Should he make a jump for the gun? Josh was probably fifteen years older than he, but the man looked as strong as an oak tree. If Fiske made a grab and got tossed on his head, he would probably be eating several rounds from the 9mm.

The screeching of rubber against asphalt made them all look toward the window. Rufus hustled across and cautiously looked out. When he turned back from the window they all could see the fear in his eyes.

“It’s Vic Tremaine and Rayfield.”

“Shit!” Josh exclaimed. “What they carrying?” Rufus took one long breath. “Vic’s got a machine gun.”

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