by Roy Glenn
“What’s up, Angee?”
“Diego called, says he’s in town. Says he still wants to meet with you.”
“You know what, Angee? This ain’t exactly the best time for this shit. I got much more important shit to deal with right now.”
“I know this, Mikey. But it’s a matter of respect. So, talk to the guy, get it over with, and get back to what you gotta do,” Angelo said.
“That’s the thing, Angee, I don’t have any fuckin’ respect for this guy. I never have. As far as I’m concerned, he’s a pussy.”
“Look, Mikey, so he’s not the man his father was in his day.”
“Not even fuckin’ close, Angee. Gomez was the man. Diego is out of control and fuckin’ sloppy, and that makes him dangerous.”
“And that’s exactly why you need to meet him, hear him out, and if you don’t like what he has to say, you can bitch slap his ass again if you wanna.”
“What the fuck is he doing up here, anyway? I know he didn’t fly up here just to talk to me about Nick?”
“No, he’s got business up here. The way I get it, five million dollars’ worth of legitimate business. Well, kinda legit.”
“Yeah, whatever. I still say fuck him!”
“Mikey! Meet with the fuckin’ guy. Get the shit over with before he makes it out to be more than it fuckin’ is. Do this for me, okay, Mikey?”
“Okay. As a favor to you, but I don’t have time for this, put him off …”
Bobby interrupted. “Ain’t that Manny Valdez over there?”
Manny Valdez used to be one of Mike’s favorite snitches. Manny would snitch out his mama if there was money in it.
“Yeah, that’s him,” Mike replied.
“He sees us,” Bobby said. “Hey, Manny!”
Manny Valdez looked at Mike and Bobby and started running.
“He’s running.”
“I’ll get back to you, Angee,” Mike told him and hung up the phone.
“Why is he running?” Bobby asked.
“I don’t know, but let’s find out,” Mike said and took off running after Manny.
Bobby went for his car and drove after them. Mike caught up with him just as Manny made it to his car. Before he could get his key in the ignition, Mike pulled him out of the car.
“Where you going, Manny?”
“Nowhere, Black,” Manny said as Bobby pulled up and got out of the car.
“Why were you running then, Manny?”
“’Cause you said that you would kill me the next time you saw me.”
“I did?” Mike questioned. “Why’d I … never mind. I’m not goin’ to kill you, at least not yet, Manny. I just wanna ask you some questions. Tell me what I wanna know and I won’t kill you.”
“What do you wanna know? I’ll tell you whatever you want. Just don’t kill me, Black, please.” Manny pleaded for his life.
“You know a guy name Sal Terrico?”
“Yeah, I know Sal, what about him?” Manny asked.
“Where can I find him?” Mike demanded to know.
“What’s in it for me?” Manny asked, and with that, Mike punched him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Manny fell to his knees.
While he was still on the ground, Mike grabbed him by his shirt collar and slammed Manny’s head between the car, and the car door.
“I already told you what’s in it for you, Manny. Tell me what I wanna know and I won’t kill you.” Mike hit his head with the door again.
“All right, all right, Black. When he’s in the city he likes to get high, buys his shit from a guy named Red. Runs a shooting gallery out in Queens.”
Mike slammed the door against Manny’s head again. “I already know that, Manny. Now you tell me where I can find him!”
Bobby leaned over Manny. “Look, Manny, you better tell him something before you end up brain damaged.”
“Cityscape!” Manny yelled. “He likes to hang out up there.” Manny tried to block the door with his arms, but Mike hit him with the door again and again.
“I know that, Manny. Tell me what I don’t know!”
“I know for a fact that he’ll be there at two in the morning. He likes to get high with some bitch that dances there. Her name is Jaylyn. She gets off at two! That’s all I know, Black, really. Please don’t hit me again.”
Mike let go of Manny and let his beaten body drop to the ground. “If you see Sal before I do, Manny, I better hear from you,” Mike said before walking toward Bobby’s car.
Once they were in the car and drove away, Mike turned to Bobby. “We probably just missed him last night.”
“Yeah, but we’ll get him tonight. We’ll go down there and wait for him. We’ll get him tonight, Mike. I promise you that.”
“I know, Bobby. I know.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
“DEA agent, Roman Patterson is murdered in Black’s club by associates of Sal Terrico. South American associates. Does any of that relate to those papers? Are those papers about what we did in South America? Then there’s Kirk. How does he know what went on in the Bahamas?”
“I don’t know, Nick,” Wanda said.
“Kirk knows, but all I get from him is voice mail.”
“Maybe he’ll talk to me. Hold on Nick.” Wanda put Nick on hold and tried to call Kirk.
When Wanda came back on the line quickly, Nick said, “Voice mail, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“What now?”
“I know somebody that we can talk to,” Wanda replied. “Meet me at my office in about an hour.”
“Why? Who are we going to talk to?” But Wanda had already hung up.
Wanda flipped through her Rolodex until she came to the name she was looking for. She dialed the number. “Glynnis Presley, please.”
If it involved politics or politicians, Glynnis was the person you wanted to talk to. She was a Senators aid who knew everybody, and more importantly, knew all the inside information about everybody, or she could find out.
“Everybody talks to somebody that talks to me” Glynnis was famous for saying.
During their long association Mike Black had been a heavy contributor to a few local political candidates. Any time that he needed to use that type of influence, it was a simple matter to call Glynnis, who called the appropriate Congressperson, who made the calls necessary for things to go the way he wanted them to without any problems. Before too long, “This is Glynnis.”
“How you doing, Glynnis? This is Wanda.”
“Tired and ready to go home. How about you?”
“I’m fine. I was calling to see if you had any plans for this evening?”
“Not a thing. What did you have in mind?”
“Dinner. I got some things that I wanted to run by you.”
“Okay, you convinced me.”
“Where do you want to meet?” Wanda asked.
“I don’t know; what do you have a taste for?”
“I don’t know, Italian maybe, seafood is always good for me,” Wanda said. “But let’s go someplace that we haven’t been before, ’cause you know that I’ll go to McCormick & Schmick’s and order calamari like I always do. So, what’s new and hot?”
“There’s a place called Alto on Madison and 53rd Street. They claim that they take Italian food to a new level.”
“Have you eaten there?”
“Yes, a couple of weeks ago. It’s a nice place, very plush, tall-backed chairs, you’ll like it. And the Chef comes around and talks with the guests.”
“What about Asian food?”
“I heard of this place called Koi, it’s on 40th and 6th Avenue. It’s in the Bryant Park Hotel. I hear that there’s a nice bar there called Cellar Bar.”
“Not in the mood for bar hopping, but thanks for the tip.” Wanda twirled her pen and thought about it. She always considered every decision carefully. “I think I am feeling Italian.”
“Well how about Bellavitae it’s on Minetta Lane between 6th Avenue and MacDougal Street. I�
��ve never been there, but I hear the food is excellent.”
“That’s fine, I’ll make reservations. Say seven o’clock?”
“Seven is fine with me.”
“Oh, and Glynnis, there’ll be someone joining us for dinner. His name is Nick Simmons, he’s an old friend of mine.”
“Is he fine as hell and available?”
Knowing what a man-eater Glynnis could be at times, Wanda considered her answer. “Yes, on both counts,” she told Glynnis, “But … never mind. I’ll see you at seven.”
As promised, Nick picked up Wanda at her office. She explained to Nick that they were going to dinner with Glynnis Presley.
“I take it that this isn’t a date either,” Nick said.
“No this is a business meeting. But are you are more than welcome to pay,” Wanda replied.
On the way to the restaurant Wanda explained that Glynnis would be able to fill in some of the holes before they talked to Mike. When they arrived at Bellavitae’s, Glynnis was already there and had been seated. Wanda introduced Nick to Glynnis, and they exchanged pleasantries. Shortly thereafter the waiter arrived. “Good evening, my name is Kelly, I’ll be your waiter tonight. Our flexible menu allows for light bites or a multi-course feast. I’ll give you some time to look over the menu. Can I bring you something from the bar?”
“I’ll have a Mojito,” Glynnis said.
“Apple martini for me,” Wanda said.
“Johnny Walker Black, straight with a water back,” Nick ordered and sent the waiter on his way.
When the waiter returned, he took their orders, Wanda had Fritto Misto. “That sounds good, Wanda, what is it?” Glynnis asked.
“It’s Calamari with celery, lemon, and Caper Berries from Salina,” the waiter chimed in.
“You always order calamari, Wanda,” Glynnis said.
“I love it, what can I say?” Wanda replied and handed the waiter her menu. Glynnis ordered Pollo alla Cacciatora, which is chicken with Black Ligurian Olives, while Nick had the grilled pork loin.
During the meal there was the usual amount of getting to know you small talk between Nick and Glynnis and plenty of what’s going on in the city gossip, supplied by Glynnis. After dinner, an uncomfortable silence fell over the table.
“So, we’ve shared a good meal, we’ve talked a lot of this and that, had some laughs. We’ve gossiped so much I think we’ve bored poor Nick to death. And you’ve plied me with sufficient quantities of alcohol,” Glynnis said as she raised her glass. “And I’ve had such a good time. But you still haven’t asked me whatever it is that you invited me here to ask me,” she said and signaled for a waiter.
“Maybe we just invited you out to enjoy your company, Glynnis, you know cause we’re friends,” Wanda said.
“I thought that it was your pretty smile, Glynnis,” Nick said, and Wanda rolled her eyes.
“You keep talking, honey, I like you,” Glynnis flirted. “I imagine that it’s you that has the questions.”
“What makes you say that?” Nick asked.
“’Cause when Wanda wants to know something, she gets to it over drinks. But you were too polite to even bring it up over dinner.”
“All right then, what can you tell me about Martin Marshall?”
“The Justice Department has been investigating Martin Marshall for years.”
“For what?” Wanda asked.
“To be honest with you Wanda, there’ve been rumors about Marshall and corruption for years. There’s even been some talk about him being involved in drug trafficking. Justice even had a bribery case against him three years ago, but the case was dropped.”
“What happened?” Nick asked.
“Witness committed suicide.”
“How?”
“Sleeping pills. After that, the evidence that they had disappeared.”
“What was the case about?” she asked.
Glynnis paused and thought for a moment. “That case involved drug money.”
“How so?” Wanda asked.
“The developer who was alleged,” Glynnis was careful to say. “To have offered Marshall the bribe, his partners were drug dealers, from Argentina or Brazil or someplace like that.”
“Or Peru, maybe?” Nick suggested.
“Could be, but I can’t be sure.”
“Is there anybody at justice we can talk to about Marshall?”
“I think I know somebody that could help you,” Glynnis said.
“If Justice was investigating him and it involved drugs, then the DEA would have been involved.”
“That would only make sense,” Glynnis said.
“That would mean that the DEA would have to have at least some knowledge of or be heavily involved in this investigation,” Wanda said more to Nick than Glynnis.
“That’s a logical conclusion,” Glynnis said.
“You have to be pretty powerful to make evidence disappear. Marshall have that kind of power?” Nick asked.
“Marshall has that kind of power,” Glynnis said. “He has a very strong and committed organization. Ruthless, when you get right down to it.”
“How does a guy like that continue to get elected?” Wanda asked.
“The thing he’s best at is playing the race card. The man is hassling me again while I’m out here doing your business, making sure your tax dollars are spent wisely, kinda crap. People buy into it.”
“Have you ever heard of a reporter named Tavia Hawkins, Glynnis?”
“Sure I have, she’s a reporter for the Post. Tavia Hawkins has practically made a career out of writing articles about Marshall.”
“So I noticed,” Nick said. “I read at least a dozen of them and there were plenty more. What’s up with that? She got it in for this guy?”
“The gossip is that he had an affair with her, this was years ago. She got serious, wanted him to leave his wife, he dumped her, you know how you men are,” Glynnis mused.
“Sounds like she would be a great person to talk to,” Nick said.
“If you wanna know about Marshall she’s the one you need to talk to,” Glynnis said
“I wanna go,” Wanda said meekly.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Martin Marshall sat alone at Ben & Jack’s Steak-house on East 44th street in one of the six private rooms behind etched glass windows off the main dining room. He tapped his fingers on the table and waited impatiently for DeFrancisco to arrive. He hated waiting for him because he was never on time.
There were times when Marshall wished that he’d never gotten involved with DeFrancisco.
If I had to be honest about it, I don’t like him.
Aside from being always late, DeFrancisco was arrogant and rude, had the worst table manners of anyone he’d ever known, and to top it off, his breath stank. But he had to admit that with all of his shortcomings, he had come in very handy over the years. However, lately, DeFrancisco was getting shaky. Always worried about things that didn’t concern him. He was even reluctant about setting up the sting on Mike Black. Wanted to know why, but who could blame him? Marshall had asked DeFrancisco to commit a considerable amount of resources solely on his assurance that it was important. But he wasn’t about to tell him that it was necessary to cover for somebody’s fuck up.
Finally DeFrancisco arrived at the restaurant without any sign of an apology for being late.
“Have you ordered yet?” DeFrancisco asked.
“No, I hadn’t planned on eating. I asked you here because I needed to talk to you,” Marshall replied.
“Well, you don’t mind if I do? I haven’t had a thing all day and I’m starved.” DeFrancisco motioned for the waiter and told him to bring the biggest steak they had, medium well. “And a gin and tonic.”
“Anything for you, sir?” the waiter asked Marshall.
“Dewar’s on the rocks,” Marshall said, knowing that he was going to say what he had to say and be gone before the steak arrived.
Once the waiter was gone, DeFrancisco asked. “So what
do you wanna talk about?”
“I need an update on the Black operation.”
“What do you wanna know? The operation is just getting started. The cop, Kirk reported to them, he seems to be cooperating. By the end of the week they should be up and running with wire taps on all of his operations, they’re working on picking up cell phone frequencies now and around the clock surveillance on the major players. All that based on the briefing they got from Kirk.”
“Make sure they pay close attention to Wanda Moore.”
“Who is she?” DeFrancisco asked as the drinks arrived.
“She’s their lawyer. Wanda has her hands in everything, both their legal and illegal businesses.”
“All that is fine, Martin, but you still haven’t told me what this is all about.”
“I’ve told you all I can tell you and that is as much for your protection as it is for ours. But I will tell you this, the success of that operation may weigh heavily on your future.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” DeFrancisco asked, pressing for information.
“Look, I’ve told you all I’m going to tell you. You know damn well what I’m saying to you, both your bank account and your freedom are at stake here. If you can’t handle it, I’ll get somebody who can.”
“Right. You know there ain’t nobody gonna do the things I do for you, so let’s cut the crap. You need me.”
“You’re right. We need you to do this and do it right,” Marshall said as DeFrancisco’s steak arrived. Marshall finished his drink and started to get up.
“There is one more thing I been meaning to tell you,” DeFrancisco said as he prepared to dig into his steak.
“What’s that?”
“That pain in the ass reporter called me again last week.”
“What did she want?”
“If DEA had any knowledge of drug money being involved in your latest investigation.”
“What did you tell her?”
“Same thing I always tell her, I told her to go fuck herself,” DeFrancisco said with his mouth full of steak.
“That’s one pain in the ass that neither one of us will have to be bothered with.” Marshall stood up, straightened his tie and left the room.
Chapter Thirty
