The Conjure-Man Dies: A Harlem Mystery. Stanley Ellin

it.’

      ‘Tonight? Why tonight?’

      ‘Tonight was prayer-meetin’ night. I ain’ missed a prayer-meetin’ in two years. And for two years, week after week—every night for that matter, but specially at Friday night prayer-meetin’—I been prayin’ to the Lord to stop my husband from drinkin’. Not that I object to the drinkin’ itself, y’understand. The Lord made water into wine. But when Jake come home night after night jes’ drunk enough to take pleasure in beatin’ the breath out o’ me—that’s another thing altogether.’

      ‘I quite agree with you,’ encouraged Dart.

      In the contemplation of her troubles, Mrs Snead relinquished some of her indignation, or, more exactly, transferred it from the present to the past.

      ‘Well, lo and behold, tonight I ain’t no sooner got through prayin’ for him at the meetin’ and took myself on home than he greets me at the door with a cuff side o’ the head. Jes’ by way of interduction, he say, so next time I’d be there when he come in. And why in who-who ain’t his supper ready? So I jes’ turn around and walk off. And I thought to myself as I walked, “If one medicine don’ help, maybe another will.” So I made up my mind. Everybody know ’bout this man Frimbo—say he can conjure on down. And I figger I been takin’ it to the Lord in prayer long enough. Now I’m goin’ take it to the devil.’

      ‘So you came here?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘How did you happen to choose Frimbo out of all the conjure-men in Harlem?’

      ‘He was the only one I knowed anything about.’

      ‘What did you know about him?’

      ‘Knowed what he done for Sister Susan Gassoway’s boy, Lem. She was tellin’ me ’bout it jes’ a couple o’ weeks ago—two weeks ago tonight. We was at prayer-meetin’. Old man Hezekiah Mosby was prayin’ and when he gets to prayin’ they ain’t no stoppin’ him. So Sister Gassoway and me, we was talkin’ and she told me what this man Frimbo’d done for her boy, Lem. Lem got in a little trouble—wild boy he is, anyhow—and put the blame on somebody else. This other boy swore he’d kill Lem, and Lem believed him. So he come to this Frimbo and Frimbo put a charm on him—told him he’d come through it all right. Well you ’member that case what was in the Amsterdam News ’bout a boy havin’ a knife stuck clean through his head and broke off and the hole closed over and he thought he was jes’ cut and didn’t know the knife was in there?’

      ‘Yes. Went to Harlem Hospital, was X-rayed, and had the knife removed.’

      ‘And lived! That was Lem Gassoway. Nothin’ like it ever heard of before. Anybody else’d ’a’ been killed on the spot. But not Lem. Lem was under Frimbo’s spell. That’s what saved him.’

      ‘And that’s why you chose Frimbo?’

      ‘’Deed so. Wouldn’t you?’

      ‘No doubt. At just what time did you get here, Mrs Snead?’

      ‘Little after half-past ten.’

      ‘Did anyone let you in?’

      ‘No. I did like the sign say—open and walk in.’

      ‘You came straight upstairs and into the waiting-room?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Did you see anybody?’

      ‘Nobody but that other girl and them two fellers that was ’bout to fight jes’ now and a couple o’ other men in the room. Oh, yes—the—the butler or whatever he was. Evilest-lookin’ somebody y’ever see—liked to scared me to death.’

      ‘Did you notice anything of interest while you were waiting your turn?’

      ‘Huh? Oh—yes. When one o’ them other two men got up to go see the conjure-man, he couldn’t hold his feet—must ’a’ been drunker’n my Jake. ’Deed so, ’cause down he fell right in the middle o’ the floor, and I guess he’d been there yet if them other men hadn’t helped him up.’

      ‘Who helped him?’

      ‘All of ’em.’

      ‘Did you notice the mantelpiece?’

      ‘With all them conjures on it? I didn’t miss.’

      ‘Did you see those two clubs with the silver tips?’

      ‘Two? Uh—uh—I don’t remember no two. I ’member one though. But I wasn’t payin’ much attention—might ’a’ been a dozen of ’em for all I know. There was so many devilish-lookin’ things ’round.’

      ‘Did you see anyone with a blue-bordered white handkerchief—a man’s handkerchief?’

      ‘No, suh.’

      ‘You are sure you did not see any such handkerchief—in one of the men’s pockets, perhaps?’

      ‘What men is got in they pockets ain’t none my business.’