THURSDAY 5:00 p.m.
The safest place for the guys to meet was Andrew’s patio in the garden area of
Riverside. Zack, Dave, and Mario sat waiting for the rest of the crew. The limousine pulled up to the side entrance and Howard and Big Gabe took a seat.
“Gentlemen,” Mario said. “This is Gabriel Chmura, better known as Big Gabe.” The guys shook hands and made small talk about how Gabe’s size sitting next to Dave made him look even shorter.
“Who wouldn't look small next to Godzilla,” Dave said, hoping Gabe laughed.
“Nothing you can say about me that hasn’t been said already.”
Mario took control of the meeting, first thanking them for their assistance. Gabe confirmed Pedro was still heavily protected, but it didn’t look like he was going to collaborate with the police, so Mario was going with Plan B.
“Plan B?” Zack said. “Didn’t know there was more than one plan to take down Dante.”
“Things don’t always go as planned—you have to be options,” Mario said. “The more we talked to Pedro, the more I realized he was well up the food chain and knew too much about the gang business.”
“And way too much about Kate,” Howard said.
“If he did testify against Dante, in a year or two Pedro would be the new kingpin on the street—nothing would change, just a new commander. So we are going to Plan B.”
“What is that?” Dave asked.
“There is a reason the military says you only have clearance on a need-to-know basis,” Howard said, making it obvious the plan wasn’t being discussed.
“Tomorrow morning Dave and Zack will be in place at 4:45 a.m. to check in on the semi one more time. At 7 a.m., meet me in front of Riverside. You’ll ride with me in my cruiser and watch the SWAT team take down the Cornerview Gang.”
“Can’t wait to see Dante’s face,” Zack said.
Mario looked at Howard and gave a blank stare. “Yeah, me too.”
“Gabe and I will see you at the after party,” Howard said. “Drinks will be on me—well, your first drink. Dave and Emma Lou can knock back the cocktails. I’ve seen them in action.”
The meeting broke, and Mario walked Howard and Gabe to the limo.
“Plan B?” Howard said, shaking Mario’s hand.
“Yep. Everything is in place. Good luck,” Mario said.
CHAPTER 55
FRIDAY—5:00 a.m.
Mario sat in his unmarked cruiser at the corner of Claiborne Ave. With his binoculars, he checked that Zack and Dave were in place and Howard parked in the limousine at the edge of the interstate ramp.
A knock on the passenger’s window surprised Mario—it was smoking Earl. With his raspy voice, he said, “Good morning,” and handed Mario a cup of coffee. “I hope you like it black?”
“That’s fine—thanks,” he said, taking the coffee.
Mario viewed the semi stopping at the identical spot as the other morning.
Mario hit the talk button on the radio. “Heads up, the service van arrived.”
“Right on time,” Zack said.
The two drivers swapped boxes of cereal, and the trailer was on its way in no time.
“Howard,” Mario called out on the radio.
“I’m here. The trailer just passed me.”
“Follow him out of the city—and Howard, good luck.”
“Copy. I’m on the move,” Howard said, and pulled the limo onto the entrance ramp about a hundred yards behind the semi. The truck went through all the gears and was well on his way to the prison. Howard took the next exit and picked up Big Gabe for breakfast.
FRIDAY—7:00 a.m.
Inside an unmarked warehouse on Julia Street up against the river, the New Orleans
SWAT team prepared to launch an attack on the main players of street crime. Officers checked weapons, slipped combat vest over their heads, and tightened chin straps on helmets. Four units with ten men per group may have been excess of power, but you couldn’t underestimate a gang when they were protecting millions of dollars of drugs.
Commander Johnson called to the police motorcade to block all streets visible to the caravan until all trucks and police cars were out of the building. Keeping secret the location of SWAT equipment and where forces met before an assignment was most important.
The motorcade lined on Julia Street and extended for a full block. As they crossed Canal Street, one unit took in the direction of Luther Marks’s warehouse, another to Pastor Monet’s church, and two groups towards the Cornerview Gang’s flophouse.
They all arrived at their locations and parked out of sight, waiting for the commander to give the word.
FRIDAY—7:15 a.m.
Howard and Gabe finished breakfast and drove to the carwash. It was too early for employees and customers, so the parking lot was empty. Gabe went to the back room with two guards and fetched Pedro. Handcuffing him to the back door of the limousine, Gabe sat with him. Howard put gloves on and pulled a plastic bag out of the car’s console. In the bag were Pedro’s personal items, a ring and a money clip. Gabe stuffed them in Pedro’s shirt pocket.
“Here is your cell phone and what to tell Dante. Call him now,” Howard said.
Gabe tightly wrapped his massive hand around Pedro’s jaw. “I speak Spanish, so if you say anything other than what is on that paper, I’ll snap your neck. Understand?”
“Okay! Are you letting me go?”
“Yes, we have no use for your punk ass,” Howard said.
Pedro hit speed dial, and the call was answered by Dante. “Where the fuck have you been?”
“I’ve been held by two men. They are major players from Texas and want to do business. It might be worth talking to them.”
“I don’t do business with people I don’t know,” Dante shot back at him.
Gabe rested his two hands on Pedro’s face and gave a little twist.
“Look, they just want to talk, get to know you. It will be real quick. Be on your front porch in thirty minutes.”
Howard disconnected the call. “Now we have to hope he shows.”
“He can’t resist. He’ll be there to hear what you have to say,” Pedro said, shaking his head away from Gabe’s hands.
“Gabe, you drive. I’ll sit in the back,” Howard said.
“Good idea, because I might snap his neck for no reason at all.”
FRIDAY—7:30 a.m.
Warden Cameron Leblanc, dressed in his blue police uniform, put on a safety vest and moved from his bedroom to the office.
“You’re ready?” his security leader asked.
“Let’s do it,” Cam said.
The rear door of the Warden’s SUV was held open, and he took a seat. He was joined in the back seat by a US Marshal. A State Trooper led the caravan of three vehicles for the short ride to Calabar. At the main entrance of the prison, the warden was met by Drug Enforcement and their four-legged partners—three German Shepherds highly trained drug dogs.
FRIDAY—7:40 a.m.
The chow line was long. Around number twenty in the line standing and grinding was Felipe. He stood with four fingers across his chest, making sure Elijah noticed. The boxes were ready as Elijah tried to steady his hand, picking up two at a time. The fingers meant four individuals in front of Felipe, and four in the back of him got the boxes with the black check marks on the bottom. The line started to move, and the first box of drugs was handed out, then the second, third and fourth. Then he came face to face with Felipe.
“Good Morning, Elijah,” Felipe said.
Elijah smiled. “Yes it is,” he said, and placed a box of cereal on his tray.
Felipe was no fool and always checked the bottom of the box, pulling the bottom flap open and making sure there were no drugs in his cereal. He gave Elijah a thumbs up.
The four people behind Felipe got drugs in their box as well. The fifth person in line was Joey Savino. Joey nodded his head and Elijah returned the same.
Elijah waited. If everything went as plan
ned, things could get scary any second.
With one of his crew walking on each side of him, Joey strolled behind Felipe, and one of his guys tripped into the back of Felipe.
“What the fuck, Savino,” Felipe shouted, and stood with two of his crew.
“No disrespect, Felipe. My guy slipped,” Joey said, fixing the items that were knocked off Felipe’s food tray. “Watch where you’re walking, asshole. Felipe is the boss in here. Bow down to him.”
Felipe nodded his head and stood proudly as a peacock, waving his men to take a seat.
Joey walked to a table and sat then winked at his boys. It worked—Plan B was in motion.
FRIDAY—7:45 a.m.
The limousine pulled up into a parking garage on Rampart Street. Big Gabe parked next to a tricked-out 1970 Cadillac Fleetwood.
“Get in the back seat of the Cadillac,” Gabe said pulling Pedro by his shirt.
“Man, I didn’t know you were all gangster with your Cadillac,” Pedro said.
Gabe pulled a gun from under his coat and pointed it at Pedro. “Shut the fuck up.”
Howard took the handcuffs off Pedro and sat behind the wheel of the car. Gabe sat in the back with a gun pointed at Pedro. The Cadillac bounced out of the parking garage and took a left on Esplanade Avenue then turned on Frenchmen Street.
“Do you see him?” Howard said.
“The house with the brick steps,” Pedro said. “There he is—I told you Dante couldn’t resist a business opportunity.”
Dante walked from behind the screen door with a silver plated gun tucked in his waistband followed by two thugs and his sister Marina.
Howard pulled to the curb. “Hi, guys, can we get out and talk?”
“Sure, but very slow,” Dante said.
“Padro, get out,” Howard said, then Pedro slipped out the back seat and stood at the foot of the front steps.
Howard leaned with one arm hanging out the window and the other hand tightly gripping a 9mm hidden behind the door. “Okay, we’re coming out.”
Pedro stopped at the bottom of the steps by order of Dante raising his hand.
Howard looked to the back seat and said, “Left of Dante.”
“Got you,” Gabe said.
The door opened, and Howard stood with his hand on the gun still hidden behind the front door. “By the way, Dante.”
“Yeah?”
“I have a message for you—from Paris,” and within a split second, he fired a bullet, hitting Dante’s head, and another bullet in the thugs to the right of him. Big Gabe took out the thug to the left of Dante and put two bullets in Marina as she reached for her gun.
“Jesus Christ! What the fuck!” Pedro shouted. Then he turned to Howard with his hands in the air. “Okay, you got what you wanted. Let me go.”
Howard said, “Sure,” then pumped two bullets into Pedro’s chest.
The Cadillac spun out, cutting down side streets at an average speed not to cause any suspicion. They made it back to the parking garage and jumped into the limousine. Howard looked at his watch—he was right on schedule and drove to the next stop: a Crematory. One of Big Gabe’s underground contacts worked at a funeral home and handled cremations.
“Where did you find this guy?” Howard said.
“I met him through a work-release program. He served three years for some bullshit—a good attorney could have gotten him off,” Gabe said. “He hooked up at a funeral home, and we stayed friends.”
The limo pulled to the back of the crematory and Gabe got out and rang a bell labeled delivery. Howard took the bullets out of his gun and placed the weapon in a paper bag. Gabe took the bag and did the same. The back door opened and a man appeared.
“Tommy?”
“Big Gabe,” Tommy said, taking the bag.
“I need it destroyed.”
“Not a problem, Gabe,” Tommy said. “I’ll fire up the furnace to twenty-two hundred degrees—in thirty minutes this will look like a metaled pancake.”
“Thanks,” Gab said. “You ever need anything, let us know.”
“We mean it—anything,” Howard repeated.
“I sure will,” Tommy said, closing the door.
Howard looked at his watch. All hell was about to break loose, but his business was completed and he headed to the car wash and dropped Big Gabe off.
FRIDAY—8:00 a.m.
The SWAT team converged on the Luther Marks warehouse. With guns drawn, they secured the surroundings. They moved everyone into one area and let the drug dogs run. It didn't take long before the dogs were called off—no drugs were found on the premises. After interviews with employees, they were cleared and allowed to return to work—all but one. The dogs went after a driver in the back of the room. His clothes had traces of cocaine. He was one of the drivers for Pastor Monet’s delivery. The driver was arrested.
Frenchmen Street Flophouse:
A double team of SWAT trucks pulled into Frenchmen Street, covering the front and rear of Dante’s flophouse. Five dead people were spread around the front of the house. Mario, Dave, and Zack pulled up in his police cruiser. Mario looked out the window—it was a bloodbath.
“Was that Plan B?” Zack said.
Mario, stunned, hesitated to answer. “They had options—it’s justified and a long time coming.”
The rear of the house was secured and four arrests were made. Two million dollars’ worth of street value of drugs were confiscated.
Pastor Monet’s Church:
A SWAT truck took out the pastor’s car as he tried to run while the police stormed the makeshift dining room. Cocaine was found by the dogs in thirty boxes of cereal. The pastor was arrested, as well as most of his staff.
Calabar Prison:
Everyone was told to freeze while the dogs sniffed for drugs in the Calabar chow hall. Guards, State Troopers, and US Marshals roamed the floor with shotguns. Warden Cam stood watching from the entrance.
A guard walked Elijah out the rear door and into a van that moved swiftly through the property until it passed through the main gate. Elijah was on his way to a protected halfway house in another state.
“We have six boxes of drugs,” one officer shouted.
“Get them out of here,” the warden shouted, pointing to the guards.
“Here is number seven and eight,” another person said. “Good boy,” the officer said, petting his dog.
Felipe was pissed. He looked around for Elijah but he was nowhere to be found. The warden stopped in front of Felipe, reached over, and picked up his cereal box. Felipe smiled and showed his gold fangs. Warden Cam opened the bottom of the cereal box and out fell a packet of cocaine.
“That’s not—”
“It’s on your tray, so it must be yours,” Cam said with great pleasure.
Felipe looked at Joey Savino standing nearby. Joey gave him a smile.
‘I’ll kill you myself,” Felipe said, and charged Joey, locking his fangs into his shoulder.
Joey screamed. Two troopers beat Felipe repeatedly with clubs. After taking several blows to his head, finally the warden took a taser gun and hit Felipe with full power. Felipe staggered towards him, and Cam hit him again and again. Felipe fell and hit his head on the edge of a steel table then slammed into the floor.
“Get these prisoners in their cells, the other eight in the hole.” Warden Cam smiled.
Paramedics rushed over to Felipe. They checked his pulse, but he was pronounced dead at 8:17 a.m. Joey had a bad bite on his shoulder and lost blood. He was patched up and sent to the hospital. They rolled him out through a line of inmates that stretched down the hallway. Among high fives and thumbs up, they chanted as he passed through the line out the door, “Joey, Joey, Joey!”
Warden Cam looked around. “The most dreaded prisoner we housed is dead,” he said to a US Marshal. “Joey Savino is in charge now, but he’s controllable.”
“You have a rough job, sir,” the marshal said.
“No matter what you think as a warden, deep down you k
now you’re not in charge. There will always be a thug running things in the prison. My job is to oversee and manage. I know a detective that will keep Savino manageable.”
CHAPTER 56
After dropping Zack and Dave at Riverside, Mario headed to his condo. He had three hours to kill before the noon press conference at Police Headquarters, and a break was in order. After a long shower, he crawled into bed for what he intended to be a two-hour nap. To help sleep, a bath cloth was put over his eyes to block the daylight from shining through the drapes. Nothing worked. His mind was racing from the events of the morning.
Mario’s cell phone was blowing up, and he ignored most of the calls, but this one he was waiting on and answered.
“Detective, Warden Leblanc,” he broadcasting his official voice.
“Yes sir,” Mario said, keeping the conversation respectful, knowing all calls from Calabar were recorded. “Nice to hear from you, Warden.”
“Out of respect, I wanted to contact you before this hits the newspapers. Remember Felipe Cruz? You were a big part of his arrest.”
“Yes sir, somehow you always remember the scumbag.” Mario rolled his eyes. He thought the warden was really selling this as an official call to whoever listened to the outgoing recordings. He wasn’t sure if they spot-checked the top man in charge of the prison, but Cam wasn’t taking any chances.
“Unfortunately, there was a problem at breakfast. An inmate in the kitchen came forward a few days ago, said cocaine was being circulated in prison through the food line.”
“That’s creative,” Mario said.
“Anyway, the snitch was moved from the prison about an hour ago. I’ll keep him safe—he gets out in nine months,” Cam said. “Actually, for his good deed, I’m going to talk to the board and see about letting him out early.”
“Wow, that’s good on your part.” Mario was surprised. That was something he had thought about asking, but he had pushed too hard for Savino’s demands and didn’t think Cam would agree.
“Things didn’t go as planned this morning.”
Crescent City Detective Page 38
