Black and Blue

Floyd grinned and held out his big hands in a wide disarming gesture. "Shit man - can't a man even look at a beautiful woman any more. Tell me things ain't got that bad."

"Looking and saying are very different things." Claire knew Joe had glanced at her before speaking. "Looking is natural but saying is real out of bounds. We all know them rules right?"

The two men were playing a game - a game both had played many times before. Claire knew Skeet would have broken a Black man's nose for talking to her like that. Despite the fact he'd tried his hand with her herself - with no success - or perhaps because of it. It took a second to realise Joe hadn't knocked back Floyd's assessment of her. In fact he'd virtually endorsed it. The two men weren't only playing games between themselves. They were testing her too.

It was time to take some control here. "So, er, Mr Abenethy..."

He jumped in on her pause as she checked her notes. "None of that - you got nothing on me or anyone else. It ain't like we don't all know that. So this is a friendly conversation between old and new friends. " He again held up his hands to symbolically take in all three of them. "You can call me Floyd and I'll call you..." His deep brown eyes were on hers.

"Officer Doyle. You can call me Officer Doyle." She said it as sternly as she could.

His eyes held hers for a couple of seconds and then he subtly tilted his hands up before dropping them to the desk. "Officer Doyle it is. Now what you want to talk about Officer Doyle."

It was a very different experience to back in Milvern County. There Floyd had been a block of wood, hard and uncommunicative. Here he was open, seemingly ready to answer any question. His eyes were twinkling. He felt on home ground and in control.

Claire thought about that. She thought about where they were, the comfortable chairs and the well-appointed office. She also thought about the lawyer and the State Senator coming over to help Floyd before. There was money and influence here. Floyd's newly relaxed attitude seemed to frank that form. It might just be innocence but Floyd had been around long enough not to necessarily rely on innocence to protect him. He was like a card player holding a royal flush. He knew he was safe and that knowledge wasn't down to his innocence. It was down to his friends.

"Is this your office Mr Abenethy?"

Floyd gave her a sly little smile. "Not calling me Floyd yet eh? Well maybe as we go along..." He made a hand gesture to take in the room. "Got the loan of this place so's we could speak on neutral ground. I used to work for the Foundation before I got my own thing going."

Neutral ground? Hardly.

"What is your current occupation Mr Abernethy?"

That little smile was back. "This and that. Officially a commission agent - that's what the IRS calls me anyways. Joe there will tell you I been clean for over ten years now. No convictions and no arrests before this BS. That right Joe?"

"That would be right." Joe's gruff voice echoed him. He said no more - apparently happy to let this be Claire's show.

"I've heard of the Taylor Foundation of course, but what exactly did you do for them?"

"Maintenance and occasional security. General duties." Again there was that little smile ghosting on Floyd's lips.

What did that smile mean? She wasn't sure but she did know Floyd felt himself to be bomb-proof, untouchable. If the Foundation was behind him then he might be just that. But what would such protection signify? What did the Foundation or Floyd really have to do with the Butler case?

"So what's your connection to the Butlers?" Joe's voice cut across her thoughts. It surprised her - she'd been sure he'd determined to take a back-seat for the meeting. He'd said just what she was thinking but she also strongly suspected he was acting to push the questioning away from the Foundation.

Why? Well the Foundation was a prominent Black-run organisation in a Black-run city and Joe wasn't here to have such things fooled with by some white girl outsider. Claire could understand that but also knew that such natural local defensiveness could hide a whole ton of shit. Her spidey-senses were tingling again.

Floyd checked his watch. "You sure you don't want to talk about the Foundation? I know Mr Taylor was meeting with the Tri-State Governors this morning and he's due to talk to the ex-President this afternoon but maybe he can fit in a few minutes to discuss your case. Should I ring him?"

"Not necessary." Joe's words were stern, final, and meant for her more than Floyd. Claire knew she was the visitor here, out of her jurisdiction. She had to let that go - for the moment. Floyd had flaunted the Foundation's power and influence from moment one. But why? What did it have to do with this - other than protecting Floyd?

"Do you know Mrs Butler?" As she asked the question Claire could sense Joe relaxing back into his seat. This was safe ground.

"Met her once, no it would be twice. Didn't know her as Mrs Butler till you showed me that picture over there."

"In what context did you meet her?"

"Purely social - just having a drink when her and her man came in."

"She was with Mr Butler." Claire's surprise sounded in her voice.

Floyd just laughed. "Shit no - she was with her real man. Never met her white boy husband and don't plan on it in the future. Same as she don't from all I saw and know."

Claire knew the way forward now. "We need to speak to Mrs Butler. Who is this man you are talking about?"

Floyd held his hands up again, palms showing. "Now, now, Officer Doyle. I'll tell you anything about myself but as for other people's business. Well, that's a little more delicate ain't it?"

"OK. So tell me what you were doing in Milvern County."

"Went to see Todd McDaid. You know him?"

Claire nodded. She knew two things about McDaid. He ran the biggest repair shop for counties around and there had been talk about his daughter. Skeet and the boys never mentioned McDaid without repeating stories about his girl catching 'jungle fever' and running off to the city. That couldn't be a coincidence could it?

"Go on," she said.

"Had business with Todd. Me and him been doing good business together since a friend of mine pointed me his way."

"That friend wouldn't be his daughter would it?" Claire took a flyer on that one.

Her reward was a delighted broad smile from Floyd. "Not just a pretty face Officer Doyle. Quite right. I was on my way there when you and your cracka friends jumped me." His smile faded off his face as he remembered it.

Joe cleared his throat and Floyd raised a hand in acknowledgement.

Claire continued. "I understand his daughter ran away. Why would Todd want to do business with people like you?" The words were out before she realised it.

That smile of Floyd's was a long way away now. His voice was stern as he answered. "First, his daughter didn't run nowhere. She left that shithole over there and came here to make a new life. Her father knows where she is and knows she's happy and that's good enough for him. He comes over to see his grandkids but they don't go over your way - because I understand people like them ain't so welcome over there. Maybe I got more than a little proof of that myself." His dark eyes were on hers, commanding and fierce.

Claire tried to retrieve the situation. "I'm sorry about that Floyd. Your visit had nothing to do with the Butlers?"

"Since I'm apparently Floyd now just what was I supposed to be calling you..." The challenge was obvious and unavoidable. If Floyd clammed up now then she'd get nowhere.

"Claire - I'm Officer Claire Doyle."

"So off your jurisdiction you are just Claire or Mrs Doyle." He looked at her hands on the table. My mistake - Claire or Miss Doyle. That right Claire. You happy for a nigger to call you that?"

She half expected Joe to cut in but he was leaning back in his chair and watching her closely. They were testing her again.

"You can call me Claire if it helps clean up the case."

"There ain't no fucking case Claire and I can tell you that. People are people. Each with their own needs and desires. Some folks act on that and some folks don't. Especially if there's barriers put up to stop them. You understanding this?"

Floyd very carefully and slowly put his hand palm-down on the table next to her own. Claire saw the deep contrast in skin tones between her own smaller pale hand and his big dark one.

She nodded and he went on.

"Takes courage to cross them boundaries. Some folk just live their life and never know what they could have had, what true fulfilment really is. They never get the opportunity or turn them chances down. Maybe they got tied into another situation - got a family or a background cuts off that way to them. Maybe then they can live that way, accept what they get rather than what they need. Maybe they can live like that."

It was as if his deep brown eyes were devouring her. He was speaking with obvious knowledge and intensity.

"The thing is Claire that can only apply so long as you don't get a taste of that forbidden fruit, so long as the chance to have what you really need is always way out of reach. If you once get that sweetness in your mouth, if you once feel that true fulfilment, then there ain't no way back for you. From that moment you know who you are and who you need to be. From then on you can't live any other way. Trying to live any other way is just a long slow way of dying. That's the gospel truth and I can tell you that."

Claire felt the heat in her face, felt the blood pulsing through her body. It had been an intense moment - certainly not a moment that she had expected today. She tried to move back onto more certain ground.

"So you are saying that Mrs Butler..."

Floyd nodded. "Jean found her forbidden fruit and took a big old bite. She wouldn't go back to that white boy husband if you gave her a million dollars. She wouldn't go back if you put a gun to her head. She's never going back - even if the whole world told her to. She's found herself now."

It certainly didn't sound like the Jean Butler that Claire had been hearing about. It was hard to reconcile with the pictures she had seen of her or the description of her given by her husband.

"I still need to speak to her - if only to close the file. Can you give me the identity of the man she is with?"

Floyd considered for a moment and then stood up. "Wait here while I make a call." He stepped out of the office.

Claire looked at Joe but the African-American Policeman just raised his eyebrows. It was clear Floyd had no intention of letting them see who he called or what phone he called from.

A couple of minutes later Floyd was back. He handed Joe a piece of paper. "They are agreeable so that's the address - I'm guessing you'll be navigating." The two men shook hands and then Floyd held his hand out to Claire.

She took it - a sign that their business was concluded. She seemed to have got what she was there for but she still wasn't sure if she'd been played. She wasn't quite buying what Floyd had been selling. There was something more to this - she was more certain of that than ever.

***

From the Foundation office to their next destination wasn't so far as the crow flew. However, the differences were clear. Over there the city was being regenerated, the buildings and their environs were well-kept and clean. Here they parked up in front of a cracked sidewalk and a retail unit long derelict and covered with tags.

"Guess you ain't in Milvern County no more, eh!" Joe's deep chuckle sounded out in the car. "There's worse areas than this one but it still has its moments. Want me to take the lead here?"

She nodded. That made sense since Joe knew the lie of the land. "Just so long as I get to speak to Mrs Butler."

The address was an ugly building of four stories lacking in any sort of architectural flair or embellishment. Just a box for people to live in.

Joe took the lead and pressed a buzzer. A woman answered and almost immediately there was a click as the main door opened. They went up the stairs to the top-floor passing strongly locked doors. No-one looked out at them so far as they could see but how many were watching from behind their doors?

At last they found the door indicated on the address. There was a strange rhythmic noise like a small piece of machinery.

Joe stepped up and knocked on the door with his night-stick. To his surprise the door seemed to slip a little as if it had only been latched. "Metro PD - can I have a word ma'am," he called through the crack.

"What the fuck!" The response was loud, male and definitely African-American. "Can't you tell we busy?"

"I need to know who's in the house sir."

"Come the fuck in then," growled the response. "Fucking five-oh got no idea of timing."

Joe turned to Claire and raised an eyebrow. Generally getting in the front door without a warrant was a major problem - most folk around here were well aware of their rights.

He pushed open the door cautiously and Claire saw the broken latch. Joe had spotted it too and drew his weapon. The noise was louder now and clearly just behind another door in front of them. It was slightly ajar and Joe put his boot to it.

The door flew open and revealed a tatty room. Grubby carpets with a battered sofa and a couple of chairs that looked about ready to collapse. Through a door across the room they saw a bedroom.

Joe grunted and put away his sidearm. They knew what was causing the noise now.

Seated on the sofa was a big bear of a man, dark skinned and with a shaven head. Gold glinted in his mouth and ears. A thick gold chain was round his neck and heavy gold rings on the fingers of his right hand. His shirt was undone and his pants were round his ankles.

Straddling him and vigorously fucking him was a woman. That was the noise - ancient springs protesting at the enthusiasm with which the woman was pushing herself up and down the man's cock.

"Fuck me daddy - give me it daddy. Give me what I need." The woman was almost chanting it as she worked. Her pale fingers on his strong broad chest, her hips driving up and down to take him as deep into her as she could.

Did she even know that they were there? Did she care? There would be time to settle such questions later. Meanwhile one question had been answered. The woman was about 5'5", 120lbs, with a fair complexion and dirty blonde hair. She was immediately recognisable from the pictures Claire had seen of her. She was Mrs Jean Butler.

"We need to talk to the lady." Joe almost laughed. "Need to make sure there's no problem here."

"No problem here," the man relied, "except you interrupting my little bitch here getting her regular share of dark meat." Frankly it didn't seem much was going to stop her. Jean Butler was still working herself up and down on his cock, her eyes fixed on his and her face flushed with exertion. The two police officers might as well not have been there at all.

"Come into the kitchen with me so my colleague can talk to the lady here." Joe's voice was calm but insistent.

"Ah fuck it." Dark muscular arms took Jean by the waist and lifted her off him. He was somewhere between forty and fifty but he clearly kept himself in shape. The woman gave a mewl of protest and then dropped into the sofa beside him, her face shining with sweat.

The man stood up and Claire had little option but to notice the nine inches of thick Black cock standing out in front of him. Police training taught you to take most things in your stride but there were exceptions. She took a second to realise she was staring at him.

"Put your pants on man," growled Joe.

"You sure your friend wants me to," said the man with a sly glance at Claire. "Besides hardly worth it 'cos my bitch there is gonna be back on board soon as you are out of here. That right little bitch?"

She didn't answer but she didn't need to. Her eyes were locked on him as if he was all that mattered to her in the whole world.

Joe gave Claire a glance as if to say, 'Well we're wasting our time here.' However, he still took the man into the little kitchen and closed the door.

Claire dropped to her haunches so that her face was on the same level as Jean Butler's. The woman was breathing deeply and her eyes didn't meet Claire's

"I'm here from home," Cliare tapped the Milvern County PD flashes on her jacket sleeves. "You're safe now. We can help you"

Now the woman's blue eyes were fully focused on her. "That isn't home any more and I don't need any help." Her voice was loaded with intent.

"I need to be convinced of that. I need you, Mrs Butler, to confirm that you are here of your own free will."

Now the woman showed some frustration. "Of course I am. You think I want to go back there? Why the fuck would I want to do that!"

Claire looked at the woman and wondered if perhaps she was on something. She had seemed frantic when she had been fucking earlier. She still seemed almost on another planet - having to force herself to engage with Claire and the world outside of those shabby rooms.

"Can I ask whether you have taken anything, any sort of drugs. Has he given you anything to take?"

Jean Butler just waved the idea away. "You don't get it. It's nothing to do with that. It's all about what he can give me and what I can give him. He can give me everything and I can give him what he wants. Fuck it - you aren't ever going to understand."

Claire tried to sound as empathetic as possible. "I want to understand. Explain it to me."

Jean suddenly had a look of triumph on he face. "Oh no - you don't explain something like this. You are either in and living it or you are on the outside. I was on the outside for way too long. Now I'm my true self - living my true life."

Claire figured that for BS. Probably a line fed her by the man. Some sort of a Stockholm syndrome. She tried one last time. "Your husband is worried about you. Do you want me to tell him where you are?"

"Fuck no!" Jean seemed genuinely horrified. "He's a useless boring piece of shit and I wasted too long with him but I wouldn't want him to get hurt. That moron would come round here with his rifle and how long do you think he'd last round here? They'd see him coming from a mile off." She paused. "Just tell him to get a divorce - it won't be contested. Serve the papers to a lawyer I know."

Claire suddenly knew what was coming next - was as sure as ever she had been about anything that the lawyer's name would be Jessica Lyons. When it was she felt her spidey senses tingling once more, the idea that there was something much bigger happening here than just a wife running off with her Black lover. She could see some pieces, was seeing more pieces as time passed, but as yet she did not have any real idea what the picture they showed was.

However, for now there was nothing more she could do. She went and tapped on the kitchen door and stood back to let the two men emerge.

The man moved straight to the sofa and sat down. Jean was immediately in front of him and easing his jogging pants down. That big Black cock of his was out and her hand stroked him a couple of times to make sure he was hard. Then she straddled him again and dropped back into position on him. She gave a long grunt of contentment as that big cock re-entered her, claimed her afresh. The rhythmn and the noise from before started once again.

"Pull the door to on your way out." The man said it and then his mouth dropped onto Jean's neck, sucking and marking the pale skin there. Letting the world know that she was his.

The two police officers left. All the way down the stairs Claire seemed able to hear the repetitive noise of those sofa springs being tested to destruction.

So far as Joe was concerned that was the end of the matter. It was just like he had expected. A white wife got bored of her whitebread life and had found herself a new man. Not the first time and it damn sure wouldn't be the last.