Ben had been back in his house for several hours before he finally stopped trying to figure out all the things he wouldn’t have to do anymore. He wouldn’t have to fill out arrest sheets, sit for hours outside some courtroom, listen to the Chief’s speeches or drink coffee from the machine in the detectives’ lounge. He could hardly have been more willing to give up such things. But there were other parts of his job, as well, and there were a few he didn’t want to give up. He would not be able to search through Bearmatch anymore, or follow Bluto’s zigzag trail during the hours before he died, or pace the bare worn path which led from the torn storm fence to the cement drain where Doreen Ballinger had died. These things needed to be done, but they had been lost in the instant his badge had come to rest on Luther’s desk, lost with the coffee and the courtroom boredom. His badge was gone, and because of that, he seemed to weigh less now than before he removed it, to float from room to room, anchorless and without direction. The badge, his job, had served to hold him in place, guide him through the world’s confusion with a reliable set of duties and obligations. He had thought that it had only provided him with a living, but slowly, as the night wore on, he realized that it had also provided him with a reason to live, and that without it, he would have to improvise a certain part of his life until he could work out a new set of guidelines, hammer out a wholly different badge. He was making the first attempts at doing exactly that when, around midnight, Lamar Beacham knocked at the screen door.
‘I’m glad I found you awake,’ Lamar said, his face strangely gray and spectral behind the wire screen.
Ben smiled slightly and waved him inside. ‘Come on in, Lamar. What are you doing out so late?’
Lamar walked into the living room and stood awkwardly, his hands thrust deep down in his trouser pockets. He had the look of a misplaced farmboy, lank and slender, with blondish, windblown hair and skin that looked as if it had been toasted lightly by the fire.
‘I heard you quit the police today,’ he said.
Ben nodded.
‘How come?’
‘They had me doing stuff I didn’t want to do.’
‘Like what?’
‘Following King around, writing down what he said,’ Ben told him. He shook his head in mild disgust. ‘That’s not decent work for a man, Lamar.’
‘Well, spraying people with water hoses ain’t much better,’ Lamar said wearily. He walked over to the chair opposite Ben and sat down.
‘Want some ice tea?’ Ben asked, lifting his half-empty glass.
‘Tea? No. But I wouldn’t say no to a beer.’
‘All gone.’
‘Mine, too,’ Lamar said. ‘I went out to get another six-pack, but the package store was closed.’ He smiled. ‘So I just kept on driving around. Finally I ended up over here.’
‘Something on your mind?’
‘I’m thinking about quitting, too,’ Lamar said flatly. ‘You know, the same thing you did.’
Ben smiled. ‘Well, good for you,’ he said. ‘I hope everybody quits.’
‘I don’t think the landlords would feel that way.’
‘You’d get another job.’
‘I guess so,’ Lamar said. ‘What about you?’
‘I guess I’ll get another one too.’
‘You got much money to live on till then?’
Ben smiled. ‘Three hundred and seventeen dollars is what I’ve got in the bank.’
Lamar laughed. ‘Four dollars more than me,’ he said. Then, suddenly, the smile disappeared. ‘Charlie Breedlove was my cousin, did you know that, Ben?’
‘No.’
‘Did he ever talk to you much?’
Ben shook his head, his eyes suddenly focusing more closely on Lamar’s face.
‘You got any idea who killed him?’ Lamar asked bluntly.
‘No, I don’t,’ Ben said.
For a moment Lamar watched Ben intently. ‘You got any idea what he was up to?’ he asked at last.
Ben straightened himself slightly. ‘What are you getting at, Lamar?’
‘He wasn’t what he looked to be,’ Lamar said, his voice suddenly taking on a strange softness. ‘He was a lot better than he looked to be.’
‘Meaning what?’
‘He couldn’t trust anybody in the department,’ Lamar went on. ‘He couldn’t even trust you. At least not for sure.’ He stared at Ben warily. ‘Hell, Ben, I’m not even sure I can trust you, but when I found out you’d quit over this King thing, I figured I’d have to take a chance, and you were the only guy I felt like I could take it with.’
‘A chance on what?’
‘Telling a few things,’ Lamar said. ‘About Charlie.’
‘What things?’
Lamar hesitated.
‘You’ve gone too far to go back, Lamar,’ Ben said. He shrugged. ‘Besides, I’m just a regular citizen now.’
Lamar shook his head assuredly. ‘No, you’re not. If I thought that, I wouldn’t be here.’ He took a long slow breath, inhaling deeply, then holding it in for what seemed an impossibly long time while his eyes stared piercingly into Ben’s face.
‘Okay,’ he said finally. ‘I’ll let it fly. Once I’m done, it’s up to you.’
‘Go ahead,’ Ben said without hesitation.
‘I don’t know if it has anything to do with his death or not,’ Lamar began, ‘but whoever killed him got it right.’
‘Got what right?’
‘Well, that he was an informer.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’
‘Who’d he work for?’