What he said was, "Why would anyone want to shoot Floyd?… Jesus, the poor guy," and felt it, he did, seeing that pathetic figure in that mangy suitcoat too big for him.
"You called the cops?"
This was the part he wanted to hear, what happened after.
Charlie said he called nine-eleven. Sheriff's deputies came in about twenty minutes. Then a couple of detectives, also from the Sheriff's Department. Then the crime-scene people arrived and the medics. They took pictures, fooled around. The medics were ready to haul Floyd away, but were told to wait. One of the detectives was chewing out a deputy for calling the state police on his own. A new guy, Charlie said, one he hadn't seen around before. They waited over an hour for the guy from the CIB-that's the Criminal Investigation Bureau of the Mississippi Department of Public Safetyto come from Batesville, the closest district office, fifty-two miles away.
"The investigator arrives," Charlie said. "He tells me he's John Rau and starts asking the same questions the local guys asked me. How it was I found the body, all that. What Floyd was doing here. He looks over the crime scene and asks if they lifted Floyd's prints. One of the sheriff's detectives says, `We know who he is. Jesus Christ, don't you? It's Floyd Showers. He ratted somebody out and got fuckin popped for it.' This John Rau has a suit and tie on, a nice way of handling himself. He's reserved, never raised his voice once. He said he wanted the prints sent to Jackson. Meaning the Criminal Information Center. John Rau told me later they have a method of handling prints nowlike you put 'em in a machine and the guy's sheet comes out."
Vernice said, "How do you remember all that?"
Charlie said, "You remember what you want to remember," turning his head to look at Dennis. "One of the local dicks says, `We can tell you anything you want to know about this piece of dog shit.' John Rau looks at him and says, `I want him printed.' What I'm getting at," Charlie said to Dennis, "John Rau wasn't taking the word of the Tunica sheriff's people for what happened. He didn't act superior to them. As I said, he never raised his voice or even said much. But you knew he was taking over the investigation and they better do what they were told. He's a low-key type of person and smart, the kind you better watch."
Vernice said, "What're you telling him that for?"
Charlie was wearing a sportshirt hanging open over his T-shirt. He took a business card from the pocket and handed it to Dennis. "This is the guy. He wanted to come out and talk to you this evening. I said why not wait till tomorrow? I told him you were beat from working twelve hours getting ready for your show, and you didn't know anything anyway. I told him I was the one hired Floyd Showers for you." He turned to Vernice. "Man's name was Showers and looked like he never took one in his life. Floyd was a miserable sight, years beyond saving."
Dennis looked up from the business card. "Where do I meet him?"
"At the hotel. He'll come by some time in the morning. I said come in the afternoon and see the show."
"What'd he say?"
"It'll most likely be around eleven." Charlie squinted then. "I ran into this colored guy staying at the hotel? Robert Taylor, doesn't have a bad arm. He's in seven-twenty. Wants you to call him tomorrow. You know this guy?"
"He saw me dive," Dennis said, his eyes holding on to Charlie. "He was looking out his window and saw me dive."
Vernice subscribed to the National Enquirer, preferring it over other supermarket tabloids because "they get deeper into the stories and're better written." She kept back issues she hadn't had time to read on the screened porch, saying, "They come every week, but it seems like near every day."
Dennis had a couple of microwaved Lean Cuisines for supper, both chicken but different, and came out on the porch to look through a few Enquirers. He sat by a lamp reading, not sure if the sound he heard was the hissing in his ears from diving-a constant sound when he thought about it-or insects out in the yard. Sometimes he thought it sounded like steam from a radiator. He had read a few stories, finished "Jennifer Lopez Warned: Leave My Puff Daddy Alone," and was starting on "Jane Fonda Finds God" when Charlie came out to the porch.
"This Robert Taylor saw you dive, huh? What else?"
"He saw Arlen Novis and the other guy… What's his name?"
Charlie hesitated but then told him, "Junior Owens. They call him Junebug."
Dennis said, "The guy that runs the honky-tonk, but it's really Arlen's?"
"Jesus Christ-she tell you everything's going on? That woman sure likes the sound of her own voice."
"Charlie, all Robert saw were two guys talking to me up on the perch. He wasn't watching when Floyd was shot."
"But he was in the crowd come out to the crime scene." Charlie sounding hoarse keeping his voice down. "He knows what happened now and he can put you there."
"He won't," Dennis said.
"How do you know?"
"Robert's got his own agenda."
"The hell does that mean?"
"Take my word," Dennis said, not wanting to get into Kirkbride and the granddaddies. "Robert isn't the kind's gonna volunteer information. We're talking, I must've seemed nervous. You know, after what I saw. He said, `Come on, I'm not looking into your business.' "
Charlie seemed to give it some thought before he said, "You saw Arlen. You sure he didn't see you, in Robert's car?"
"He couldn't have."
"But you recognized him?"
"I see the Lone Ranger coming out of the house-shit yeah, I recognized him. Vernice told you, didn't she? He wanted to talk to you about uniforms? Doesn't like you going Yankee on him."
"That's what he told her."
"You dress up and play war with those guys? Pretend to shoot each other? It's hard for me to imagine."
" 'Cause you don't know anything about it."
"I remember you saying-I told you I thought the one looked like a deputy or a state trooper? And you said, `You oughta see him with his sword'? I didn't know what you were talking about. Then Vernice tells me Arlen and his gang all get into it, playing war." He could tell Charlie didn't like the way he was talking, but didn't care. He said, "You gonna let him talk you out of being a Yankee?"
Charlie said, "You're sure a lot spunkier'n the last time I saw you."
"I'm trying to forget what happened. Since I wasn't there."
"That's good, 'cause Arlen just phoned." "About the uniform?"
"Will you forget the goddamn uniform?" Charlie's voice rising now, irritated. "He wanted me to know they killed Floyd because he might talk, not 'cause he did. Arlen says we ever put him at that scene we'd end up in a ditch."
"What did you say?"
"I told him to stay away from us. And had another drink."
"What're you gonna do?"
"Watch my goddamn back. What you think I'm gonna do?"
Dennis thought of Robert Taylor, Robert's voice in the dark saying, "That man gives you any shit, tell me." Dennis hesitated but kept looking at Charlie before he said, "I think of what happened… I'm up on the ladder… Could they have walked out from the hotel and not seen me?"
"They couldn't miss seeing you."
"So they don't care I'm a witness. It wasn't gonna stop 'em from shooting Floyd."
Charlie said, "You're just some squirt stuck up there on the ladder. They might've wished they brought a rifle."
Dennis said, "They were having fun talking about it-making a bet whether the one could hit me or not, Junebug, with the slicked-back hair. He said, `Shit, I'll hit him on the fly.' "
"I heard 'em," Charlie said, "but couldn't tell what they were saying."
"I think about it now," Dennis said, "it pisses me off. They didn't see me as any kind of problem. Who's the guy in the red trunks? Where? Up on the ladder. That's nobody-fuck him. You know what I mean? When Arlen threatened you, on the phone, didn't it piss you off?"