Martin nodded, "Very well, you go arrange it, you have full authority to handle this."
Stanley handed the videotape to a black kid outside the door, smiling as he gave some change to the kid and gave a few instructions. The seven or eight-year-old black imp immediately ran off with the videotape, and Stanley then accompanied Martin into his home.
Upon opening the door, the living room was filled with six or seven black women seated around a round table, skillfully handling ten pounds per bag of marijuana on the table, with each small package being carefully weighed.
The leader was a kindly looking, corpulent black old lady. When she saw Martin come in, she subconsciously stood up, wiping her hands with her apron:
"Is this Mr. Hart?"
"Yes, Mama," Stanley said to the old lady, then introduced her to Martin, "This is my mother, everyone calls her Mrs. Jack."
"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Jack, I'm Martin, Martin Hart," Martin said to the old lady with a smile.
