Free Black Gangster by Donald Goines Page A

such address around here, buddy," he replied to Racehorse's question politely.
    "I ain't your goddamn buddy," the young man snarled, then added, "You're just giving me that bullshit because you're scared I'm going to pick up some blue-eyed blonde."
    Al pushed back his police cap and stared. Anger began to overrule his usually patient manner. A slight warning crept into his mind, only to be brushed back by instinct.
    He stared up at the well-dressed, immaculately manicured Negro. There was something wrong here, he warned himself. The man's appearance didn't match his attitude. No matter how hard you tried, he thought, it was impossible to meet some of these bastards with friendliness. "Why, you smart-ass black bastard," Al began, stopping suddenly as the barrel of a thirty-eight blue-steel automatic appeared in the black man's hand.

    "Go on and finish," Racehorse said sarcastically. "I'm gettin' my kicks behind it, man, so you might as well get yours, pig, while you can."
    Al's eyes desperately searched Racehorse's face for some sign of alcohol or drug use. But the rigid face, hands, and cold eyes were absolutely unreadable. "Hold it, fellow," he began anxiously, "I didn't mean no harm."
    A door slammed, and Al relaxed with a sigh as he saw his partner coming towards the car with a small, gray-haired old man in tow. For a brief moment he appreciated the soundness of the plan to put a black man and a white man in each police car. Then panic gripped him as he saw a small figure come out of the shadows and advance on the two men from behind.
    The street erupted with sound as fire leaped from both automatics in Tony's hands. As shot after shot exploded, a fresh burst of laughter came from Racehorse. It flashed through Al's mind in that instant that he would die, and he thought of the young wife he was leaving behind. This was something that happened to other policemen, something he had always thought could never happen to him. It was only reflex that made him grab for the pistol at his side.
    Racehorse watched with diabolical joy the officer's feeble effort before pushing his gun into Al's face at point-blank range. Racehorse pulled the trigger, and as each shot went off, he yelled, "Die, honkie, die!"

    An old lady ran out from the storefront, calling her husband's name over and over again. She dropped to her knees beside his body and picked up his head as blood gushed from the skull.
    Racehorse, wheeling around from the car, pulled the trigger again, just as the old lady leaned over to wipe blood from her husband's mouth. The bullet caught her square in the head, killing her instantly. Racehorse turned and fled up the street after Tony. Reaching the car, he jumped in just as Tony pulled away from the curb.
    "Why you gotta go and kill the old lady?" Tony asked incredulously.
    "Why the old lady? Why, paisan, the same reason we killed the old man, baby, the same reason." Racehorse laughed loudly, relieving some of the tension.
    "You're nuts, man," Tony stated flatly. "I mean you're really off your goddamn rocker," he said and burst out laughing. In a moment, both killers were struggling with the insane laughter of relief.
    As the sounds of the speeding car died away, people began to open their doors and step out on the street. The sight of all the bodies sprawled around sent fear through them. Some of the men sent their women and children back into the house.
    At the same time, on the west side, Lieutenant Gazier, with two police cars behind him, pulled up in front of the Rulers' clubhouse, the Roost. A young kid jumped down the steps as soon as he saw the police piling out of the cars. The teenagers standing at the bottom of the stairs, smoking reefer, fled through the opened door of the club as the kids pushed down among them yelling, "Raid!"

    One young girl standing on the sidewalk was too slow to grasp the situation. She turned and ran down the steps with two policemen on her heels. Just as she reached the bottom step, the