Native Son - Richard Wright [151]
“Why, yes.”
“And that company in turn owns the stock that controls the South Side Real Estate Company, doesn’t it?”
“Why, yes.”
“I think I can say that the Thomas family pays rent to you?”
“Indirectly, yes.”
“Who formulates the policies of these two companies?”
“Why, I do.”
“Why is it that you charge the Thomas family and other Negro families more rent for the same kind of houses than you charge whites?”
“I don’t fix the rent scales,” Mr. Dalton said.
“Who does?”
“Why, the law of supply and demand regulates the price of houses.”
“Now, Mr. Dalton, it has been said that you donate millions of dollars to educate Negroes. Why is it that you exact an exorbitant rent of eight dollars per week from the Thomas family for one unventilated, rat-infested room in which four people eat and sleep?”
The coroner leaped to his feet.
“I’ll not tolerate your brow-beating this witness! Have you no sense of decency? This man is one of the most respected men in this city! And your questions have no bearing….”
“They do have a bearing!” Max shouted. “You said we could question with latitude here! I’m trying to find the guilty person, too! Jan Erlone is not the only man who’s influenced Bigger Thomas! There were many others before him. I have as much right to determine what effect their attitude has had upon his conduct as you had to determine what Jan Erlone’s had!”
“I’m willing to answer his questions if it will clear things up,” Mr. Dalton said quietly.
“Thank you, Mr. Dalton. Now, tell me, why is it that you charged the Thomas family eight dollars per week for one room in a tenement?”
“Well, there’s a housing shortage.”
“All over Chicago?”
“No. Just here on the South Side.”
“You own houses in other sections of the city?”
“Yes.”
“Then why don’t you rent those houses to Negroes?”
“Well…. Er…. I—I—I don’t think they’d like to live any other place.”
“Who told you that?”
“Nobody.”
“You came to that conclusion yourself?”
“Why, yes.”
“Isn’t it true you refuse to rent houses to Negroes if those houses are in other sections of the city?”
“Why, yes.”
“Why?”
“Well, it’s an old custom.”
“Do you think that custom is right?”
“I didn’t make the custom,” Mr. Dalton said.
“Do you think that custom is right?” Max asked again.
“Well, I think Negroes are happier when they’re together.”
“Who told you that?”
“Why, nobody.”
“Aren’t they more profitable when they’re together?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Mr. Dalton, doesn’t this policy of your company tend to keep Negroes on the South Side, in one area?”
“Well, it works that way. But I didn’t originate….”
“Mr. Dalton, you give millions to help Negroes. May I ask why you don’t charge them less rent for fire-traps and check that against your charity budget?”
“Well, to charge them less rent would be unethical.”
“Unethical!”
“Why, yes. I would be underselling my competitors.”
“Is there an agreement among realtors as to what Negroes should be charged for rent?”
“No. But there’s a code of ethics in business.”
“So, the profits you take from the Thomas family in rents, you give back to them to ease the pain of their gouged lives and to salve the ache of your own conscience?”
“That’s a distortion of fact, sir!”
“Mr. Dalton, why do you contribute money to Negro education?”
“I want to see them have a chance.”
“Have you ever employed any of the Negroes you helped to educate?”
“Why, no.”
“Mr. Dalton, do you think that the terrible conditions under which the Thomas family lived in one of your houses may in some way be related to the death of your daughter?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“That’s all,” said Max.
After Mr. Dalton left the stand, Peggy came, then Britten, a host of doctors, reporters, and many policemen.
“We will now hear from Bigger Thomas!” the coroner called.
A wave of excited voices swept over the room. Bigger’s fingers gripped the arms of the chair. Max’s hand touched his shoulder. Bigger turned and Max whispered,
“Sit still.”
Max rose.
“Mr. Coroner?”
“Yes?”
“In the capacity