“Have you been here all the time?” “Nawsuh. Ah just driv up,” Jackson said, speaking in dialect to impress the cop that he was the rightful junkman. The cop had no doubts about Jackson being a junkman. He just wanted information. “And you didn’t see anyone running past you who looked suspicious?” “He just driv up,” the man said who had seen Jackson emerging from between the buildings. “Ah seed him.” It was the code of Harlem for one brother to help another lie to white cops.
