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When had it happened？ When had he e to hate so？
He moved in a rhythmic trot； his giant athlete's body swinging free and easy； the way he used to on the grass covered fields of football； when he performed in the big open…air cage for the whites lucky enough to have a friend who could help them get season's tickets。
No matter when he started to hate。 He hated。 That was enough of an answer； but then he remembered。 King Kong was why he hated。
Butler had had a particularly bitter argument with his sister； had gone out into the New York night； and somehow had wound up listening to a free lecture on racism ~ at the New School for Social Research。
The lecturer was one of that roving band of non…teaching teachers who make a headline with one interesting； if erroneous； statement and then milk it for lecture fees at campuses for the next twenty years。 The lecturer began to talk about racism hi the films； drawing unsupported conclusions from unsubstantiated data； to the growing applause of the two hundred people； mostly white； in the audience。
Then the house lights dimmed and film clips from the old King Kong classic began to be shown on the screen。 There were five minutes of the giant ape terrorizing Fay Wray in the jungle； then climbing the Empire State Building with her in his giant hand； then standing there atop the building until he was gunned down by the fighter planes。
The speaker seemed to want to match the auditorium darkness with the lack of light in his own analysis。
King Kong； he said； was just a thinly veiled attack by while filmmakers on black sexuality； a pandering…to the redneck's fear of the potent black man。 The leering expressions of King Kong as he lifted the white girl up in his giant black hand； his mindless； headlong； unswerving search for her which typified the mythical lust of black men for white women； and the cheaply symbolic end where King Kong was shot down while hanging on to the building's phallic symbol of a tower； thus signifying that the black man would be done in by his erect phallus…all these were cited as proofs by the speaker。
Butler looked around the auditorium at the heads nodding up and down in agreement。
And these were the liberals； he thought； the best hope of blacks in America…and not one of them questioned； for even a moment； their own willingness to equate a giant movie monkey with a black man。 Didn't they teach anthropology in the schools any more？ Didn't they teach anything？ The ape was hairy； and blacks were hairless。 Blacks had thick lips； but apes had no lips at all。 And yet these looney…tunes could believe that people would find blacks and apes interchangeable。 Why could they believe that of others； if they didn't really know it of themselves？
And they were supposed to be the best America had to offer。
Butler had left the auditorium convinced by the speaker of just one thing： his sister had been right and he had been wrong。 It would take confrontation and possibly violence to get what the black man deserved in America。
Butler tried。 Then came that visit to the Lord village； when William Forsythe Butler had known that he had e home。 He heard the legend of the Loni and knew that he…he alone…could be the redeemer of that legend； that he could use the Loni to take over power in Busati and show what a black man could do with a government if given half a chance。
He was at the house now。 It was dark and silent。 He was glad there were no dogs。 Willie Butler was afraid of dogs。
He paused close to the wall of the house； looking around him； remembering the floor plan that had been outlined to him by a researcher； who had found it hi the Library of Congress； under Historical Homes of Virginia。 The girl's room would be second floor front right He looked up。 Latticework； buried under vines； covered the front of the big building。 He hoped the thin wood would hold his weight。
Butler tested it by reaching up； grabbing a piece of wood with his right hand； and lifting his feet off the ground。
He hung there suspended by his right hand momentarily； the wood was anchored and strong。 He grunted softly to himself and then began climbing the latticework like a ladder。 The window to the second floor bedroom was unlocked and open slightly at the top。 Inside he could hear the faint whirring of central air conditioning breathing coolness into the room。
The night was black as a railroad tunnel at midnight； and the inside of the bedroom seemed to be brightly lighted by the small lamp built into the light switch near the door。
In the bed； under a shiny sheet； he could make out a woman's form。 That should be Hillary Butler。
Holding onto the latticework with one hand； Butler inched the bottom window up until it was fully opened。 Then he carefully stepped into the room； his shoes sinking deeply into the plush velvet carpet that covered the floor。 He paused； sipping his breath carefully through his nose； trying to make no sound； then moved toward the bed； the foot； around the side。 He could see the girl's face now。 It was Hillary Butler； sleeping the dreamy sleep of the peaceful…with…the…world。 That she slept in this air…conditioned room under that satin sheet because her ancestors had carted men and women and babies across an ocean in the hold of a stinking rat…infested ship； did not seem to intrude on her sleep at all。 Butler hated her。
He stepped back and from his pocket took a small foil…wrapped packet。 Carefully he pinched the top to break the air…tight seal。
The characteristic smell of chloroform rose from the package into his nostrils。 From the packet； he pulled out a heavy gauze pad soaked with the drug； and carefully put the foil back into his jacket。
Quickly he moved forward。 He stood alongside the girl and transferred the chloroform pad to his right hand。 Then he reached down and covered the girl's nose and mouth with the pad。 Hillary Butler bolted upright in bed； and the big man dropped his body on hers to hold her still。 She thrashed for a few seconds； her eyes wide open and shocked； trying to see her attacker； but only able〃 to see the glint of light reflecting off a golden chain…link ring on the hand that covered her face。 Her thrashing slowed down。 Finally； she was still。
Butler stood up and looked down at the unconscious girl。 He left the pad on her face and methodically began to search the room。
He carefully went through a clothes closet that ran the length of one wall； looking at dresses and rejecting them until he found one； a blue and white jersey shift with a hand…made label from an exclusive New York City couturier。 He made sure the other garments were hanging neatly before he closed the closet。 On a dressing table； he saw a polished ebony wood jewelry box。 He reached inside and grabbed a handful of jewelry； carried it to the room's little night light； and inspected it He took an engraved golden charm bracelet and a pair of gem earrings。 The rest he returned to the box。
Butler rolled up the blue and white dress and stuck it under the belt of his trousers。 The jewelry went into an inside jacket pocket。
At the bed； he pulled the chloroform pad off the girl's face； put it back in his pocket； then lifted the girl up in one muscled arm； carrying her under his arm like a rolled up set of blueprints and went back to the window。
With ease that surprised him； he carried the girl down。 Still holding her under one arm； he moved toward the line of trees and headed back for the roadway where his car waited。
He dumped the little rich girl on the floor in the back of the car； covered her with a blanket and then drove off quickly。 He didn't want to be stopped by any policemen wondering what a black in a rented car was doing in this section of the county at almost three o'clock in the morning。
After parking hi the motel lot in front of his room； Butler placed a fresh chloroform pad near Hillary Butler's face； then went inside his room where the prostitute was still unconscious。
He dressed her in Hillary Butler's blue and white dress； then put on the stolen jewelry。 The charm bracelet engraved on the back。 〃To Hillary Butler from Uncle Laurie。〃 Earrings。 They were made for pierced ears。 The whore's ears were not pierced。 Butler swore under his breath。 Damn； just like a white bitch； not to have holes where you wanted her to。 He rammed the point of one earring through the fleshy lobe of the unconscious girl who did 〃hot even stir； even though drops of blood ran down her ear from the small hole。 He clipped the earring hi back with the small squeeze lock attachment； then fastened the other earring in the same way。
Butler untied the girl's ropes and stashed them in his small suitcase。 From a back partment of the bag； he pulled out two heavy brown…colored plastic bags； shaped like army duffle bags。
He stuffed the prostitute into one of them。 The bag locked at the top with metal snaps but there was enough gap in the closure for air to get in。 General William Forsythe Butler took the other bag out into the parking lot。 There was no one in sight。 Only three cars were parked in the lot； and those rooms were darkened； their occupants probably asleep。 Butler opened the back door of the Buick； reached in and began to feed Hillary Butler into the b