Trigger

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Trigger Page 25

by David Swinson

“Yes.”

  “Why would I want to do that?”

  “Because I believe you don’t know anything about why Arthur Taylor was at the lot when Al shot him, but I think Ty does, Marlon too. I want him and his cell phone or phones. For all you know, he was there because he knew you were there. You were probably followed.”

  “Who do you think you are?” Eman says.

  “Just trying to help someone out who I thought was our mutual friend,” I say to Tamie, because she knows I mean Al. “Maybe help you, too. I know Al took advantage. Hell, so did I. Never tried to get you help when you needed it, because we needed you the way you were. I ain’t proud of that shit. You gotta believe me. You know we would’ve—still would—do anything to protect you.”

  “She don’t need your protection.”

  “That’s enough, Eman, and, Frankie, don’t try to sweet-talk me no more. Ty ain’t smart enough to try to run things. He’s just a little boy. Ain’t nothin’ without Rule. Neither was Marlon. If they were there with that Taylor boy, it’s because Rule wanted them there. Now that they don’t have Rule, they’re gonna come to Mama.”

  Eman laughs again.

  “Rule’s a dipper-smoking little shit. That make him dangerous,” she says.

  I knew he had to be on that shit.

  “Frankie, we don’t need to tell you nothing. But Rule was making his play. Cordell had his interests, and I had my interests. And you took care of Rule for us.”

  “Then you owe me,” I say.

  “Fuck this,” Eman says. “Let me wreck this fool, Mama.”

  And before waiting for an answer, he lunges forward, connecting with his fist hard, on the left side of my face. That fucking side of my face again, but nothing like the tap Calvin gave me.

  It almost drops me. Makes me think how many times am I gonna allow myself to get hit on that side of my face. I feel a trickle of blood. He broke the skin, but not by much. I regain myself quickly, ready to go to blows with this guy, take out that knee. Again.

  Instead, I straighten myself up. Face Tamie. He’s ready, but Tamie holds him back with her hand, like he’s as light as a feather. I don’t acknowledge him. Make like it never happened. That can be harder on him than retaliation. It’s like it meant nothing. He means nothing.

  “You owe me, Frankie. You owe me about ten years of my life,” she says.

  I wipe the bit of blood from my cheek, but I don’t want to soil my suit, so I keep the blood on my hand.

  “Bullshit, Tamie. You got what you wanted out of us.”

  A couple pedestrians walk down 16th. We wait until they cross W.

  “I’m askin’, Tamie. We can still be helpful to each other in the future.”

  That gets her brain working.

  “I’ll get you what you want, Frank Marr, and you’ll get me what I want someday. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “What time?”

  “Just answer when I call,” she says, mocking me.

  Seventy-Six

  We’ll see what happens,” I tell Calvin after I get in the car and close the door.

  “What—”

  “Hold on.” I cut him off.

  I start the car, pull out quickly, and drive toward 15th.

  “Go on,” I say.

  “What she say, then?”

  “What we already know. Cordell. Everything. Rule found out she was an informant but didn’t know she was playing both sides. She also knew Rule and his little crew of boys—Ty and Marlon—were out to get her.”

  “So now what?”

  “Drive around a bit. Make sure we’re not being tailed.”

  “I mean after that.”

  “Wait, and hope she calls me and gives up Ty like she said she would.”

  “But she knows nothin’ about that boy Taylor getting shot?”

  “Claims she doesn’t, but who knows.”

  I give Calvin another joint.

  “Shit, thanks,” he says, and lights it up right away.

  “Smoke it up. I’m going to drive a bit before I take you home.”

  “No problem there.”

  Seventy-Seven

  I wake up early. It’s light out, so not that early. I go into the upstairs bathroom to change the gauze on my head and clean the wound. I have to peel off the square patch of gauze over my wound because it’s stuck to my dried-up blood like glue. I pull some hair out with it. I position the medicine-cabinet mirror so I can see the back of my head in the mirror above my sink. Doesn’t look so bad, I think. I clean it with hydrogen peroxide and rub the scabbed-up gash with antibiotic cream. I grab fresh gauze wrap and a patch just in case it starts bleeding again.

  I put on my good suit, with a fresh white shirt and my favorite tie. I grab a box of .38 ammo out of my nightstand drawer and put that, along with the gauze and patch, in my backpack. I go downstairs and grab an unopened bottle of Jameson and shove it in there, too.

  I pick up Calvin, have him sit in the back again with the binos, and we start with canvassing the 1400 block of Fairmont first, then go from there. I can’t wait on Darling. Don’t even feel like she’s going to call.

  My blood gets flowing when my cell rings. I look at the screen. It’s Rattan.

  “Marr,” I answer.

  “Can we meet? I have a photo array I need to show you and Calvin, if he’s with you.”

  “He is, and no problem. When and where?”

  “I’m not comfortable with the lot anymore. How about the vacant church lot off Fifth, the one the FOP used to use? I can be there in ten minutes.”

  “Give us twenty.”

  “See you then,” Rattan says.

  “That was Detective Rattan,” I tell Calvin. “She has more photos to show us.”

  “Who?”

  “She didn’t say.”

  Back in the day, the old church allowed cops to park in the lot for court because parking was such a pain in the ass. It was mostly used for taking naps in cars, though. Rattan is toward the back, facing the entrance. I pull up to her like I did before and open my window.

  “I need to show you guys the array separately,” she says.

  “I know that.”

  “Didn’t mean—”

  “You didn’t hurt my feelings. Who do you want first?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  I turn to Calvin. “I’ll be right back.”

  He nods.

  I step out, walk around to the passenger side of her unmarked cruiser, and get in.

  “These photos might contain a photo of the individual who was using the iPhone when you got into the shooting. Do I have to go through the rest of this speech?”

  “No. Just show me the photos.”

  She hands me a sheet of paper with nine photos printed on it. It doesn’t take me more than a second to point to Ty’s image.

  “Him. He was the one with the phone and the subject I know as Ty, or Little T.”

  I hand it back to her.

  “Thanks for your time,” she says.

  “Be sure to give Calvin the speech,” I say.

  She smiles.

  I step out, walk to the car. Calvin gets out.

  “Your turn, partner,” I say.

  He looks at me, and I can barely make out a smile on his face. I get in the car and light up a smoke. Not even five minutes pass and Calvin steps out. He gets in the back.

  “I’m not supposed to talk to you about it,” he says.

  “I know, man.”

  I roll down the front passenger window, and Rattan rolls down her window.

  “Let me know how it goes,” I say. “And if you get a search warrant for anybody, make sure to include all cell phones and smartphones.”

  “Be safe, Marr,” she says, and drives away.

  “You picked Ty, right?” I say.

  “Told you I’m not supposed to say.”

  “Just testing,” I joke.

  Seventy-Eight

  Back on Fairmont. A little bit of action, but not much, and no sign o
f Ty or Marlon. We head to 17th again, drive around the area before trying to park.

  “Man, this whole neighborhood be changing. All these fucking rich folks comin’ in.”

  “This the first time you notice that?” I say.

  “Naw, just the first time I said it out loud.”

  “Yeah, well, I grew up in DC. Nothing like it was when I was a young teenager in the eighties.”

  “No shit, you that old?”

  “Fuck you. Forties ain’t old. And trust me, you’ll get there soon enough. Time has a way of eating you like that.”

  “Never thought I’d make it to thirty.”

  “You almost didn’t.”

  “That ain’t funny.”

  “I meant your past thuggish ways when you were runnin’ with people like Cordell and Little Monster.”

  “No you weren’t. You talkin’ about that time at the river.”

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  “Go on, now. Ancient history for me. Fucking weird thing is, you kinda saved my life, too.”

  I look back at him briefly but don’t have words.

  We get to the corner of 17th and Kalorama and park illegally.

  “I don’t know. I think we’re wasting our time. Leave it up to Rattan and her crew. They’ll get a warrant. Eventually find him.”

  “What about your boy Luna? He gonna get fucked in that shooting.”

  “Only so much you can do, partner.”

  “You keep calling me partner, so I guess I got a say in things. And I say we keep looking for that little mofo.”

  I light a smoke. “All right, then.”

  “You got another one of them joints?”

  “Rolled-up fresh.”

  I grab the sandwich baggie with five in it and toss the whole thing back to him. “Not all at once. Might have to run.”

  “I got a bum knee, remember.”

  “Then if I have to run, you take the wheel.”

  I hear him light one up and smell it after. Stinky as shit, but nice.

  Seventy-Nine

  I check my phone. We’ve been here more than two hours. I have a couple swigs of Jameson, and before I can screw the cap back on, I see an SUV driving the wrong way down the one-way street from Euclid.

  “SUV coming.”

  “Fucking one-way street.”

  “Hell, we used to always do that,” Calvin says.

  It double-parks in front of the house we’ve been watching. Tamie steps out of the front passenger seat.

  “That looks like that big man from the other night, behind the wheel,” Calvin says.

  “Yeah, and that’s our girl.”

  “Your girl.”

  She walks up the steps to the front door and enters.

  The SUV waits a couple of seconds and then drives toward us. I tuck down.

  “Which way is it going?” I say.

  “Just took that right onto Kalorama.”

  I sit back up, take another good swig out of the bottle, and tighten the cap on. I wedge it behind my pack.

  “Least we know where she be.”

  “Yeah, if we don’t hear from her today, that’ll be a good thing.”

  “You call the police?”

  “Fuck no.”

  “I’m good with that.”

  My cell rings.

  “Fucking Tamie,” I say, more to myself.

  “No shit.”

  “Didn’t think you’d call, sweetie,” I answer.

  “You should know better than that, Frankie.”

  “Give me some good news, please.”

  “Meet me at our old spot.”

  “Kenyon?”

  “C’mon, baby, where it all began.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Sure as I like pumpkin pie in November. I can be there in about an hour.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  She disconnects.

  “We’re on for the meet, but I don’t trust her.”

  “What you wanna do?”

  “Go meet her. It’s not for an hour. Let’s sit here. I’ll show you how to properly tail someone.”

  “But your car burned.”

  “Yep. That’s why you gotta do it right.”

  Thirty minutes pass, and the SUV drives up Kalorama from Ontario, makes a left onto 17th. I’m already leaning back.

  “He look at us?”

  “Not that I can tell.”

  “Not really worried. There’s a lot of cars like mine in this neighborhood.”

  Tamie opens the door and walks down the steps before the car pulls up. She doesn’t walk around to the front. She steps in the back seat, behind Eman. He drives.

  I let them get to Euclid and turn right before I start the car and pull out.

  “Hard to do with one car,” I say. “Even harder if the car’s burned. That’s why we’re going to stay as far back as we can, and you keep the binos on them.”

  “Okay.”

  Euclid’s a long block to 16th, unless they made that left turn on Mozart. I ease out to Euclid before I turn.

  “They be hittin’ Sixteenth Street. Looks like they gonna make a right.”

  That’s another long block to W, and the corner where we met last night. That house is more than likely where they came from.

  When they turn, I speed up to 16th, pull out as much as I can with all the traffic going south.

  “You see them?”

  “Hold on. Yeah, in front of that cab.”

  I pull out, turn right, get a couple of angry horn honks behind me from an oncoming car.

  “They passin’ W.”

  By the time I get to W, they’re at U and waiting on a red light. I get in the left lane.

  “What are you doin’?” Calvin says. “They gonna make that left on U.”

  “Letting a couple cars get ahead of me so we can stay behind.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “Just have to make that light on V.”

  Fuck, it turns yellow. The first car, in front of the car ahead of me, crosses. I check my right and cut in front of the car in the next lane and hit it, running the red.

  “Shit, man, 3D right down the road.”

  I get behind that car in the left lane again. The light at U is still red. We’re about four cars behind them now. They make the turn when the traffic light’s green, and a couple seconds later so do we.

  We follow a few blocks. Traffic is jammed, so they make the light at 11th before we can.

  “Keep eyes on them.”

  “They at the light at Tenth. Left-turn blinker on.”

  “Looks like they decided to take the long way.”

  By the time we turn on 10th, they’re all the way up, turning right onto Barry. I feel better now, unless Eman originally dropped her off to go pick up some other boys.

  We lose them when we get to Barry.

  “I can’t see the car,” Calvin says.

  “No worries. I’ll take the left on Sherman, drive past the construction.”

  “Oh, I gotcha.”

  We pass the lot. I can see their car backed in between two trailers.

  I keep going and make the right on Euclid and then the next right on 9th. I pass the back of the fire station and double-park before passing the lot.

  “The car is parked in the lot there, on the right, between two construction trailers. I can barely see it. Can you get eyes on it?”

  He’s leaning over the passenger seat, peering through the front windshield with the binos.

  “I got it.”

  “Can you make out who is in it?”

  “I can see the big man, and behind him someone who looks like Tamie D.”

  “Look hard. Any other movement?”

  “Can’t tell. Don’t know for sure.”

  “Okay. You drive. I’ll take the passenger side.”

  He doesn’t question it. Gets out of the car when I do, and we switch up.

  “Drive all the way around to the fro
nt entrance of the lot and turn in.”

  We get around the block, back to Sherman, and Calvin turns in.

  “Don’t pass them. Turn here, and back up so you have an easy out of the front gate.”

  “You gonna walk out to meet them?”

  “Yeah. Keep the car running and get your iPhone out. If something happens to me, just take off and call nine one one.”

  “Fuck that.”

  “I ain’t joking, Calvin. If something is out of the ordinary, you’ll see me hoof it back to the car and we’ll both take off. If you hear gunshots that don’t come from me, you get the fuck out.”

  “How am I gonna know if they come from you?”

  “’Cause I’ll still be standing, shooting my gun. Enough said.”

  I step out, scan the area before I walk. I take my .38 out and put it in the front pocket of my overcoat, keep my hand on the grip.

  Eighty

  I walk past the trailer where their car is parked. Eman steps out first, and then Tamie. Like regular gangland shit.

  He has his right hand on the grip of a gun holstered at his right side.

  “Is this all good, Tamie?”

  “Course it is, hon.”

  Still doesn’t make me feel comfortable.

  She taps Eman’s right shoulder as she passes him. He takes his hand away from the gun. I keep mine where it is. I can see she’s carrying a phone.

  She walks up to me, turns to see my car.

  “You got yourself a driver now?”

  “Student driver.”

  She hands me the cell phone.

  “You might want to pay special attention to everything recorded on there, not just your shit, but what’s recorded before it.”

  “Where’s Ty?”

  “You don’t have to worry about him, or Marlon.”

  “I still need to talk to him about the shooting Al got in.”

  “No you don’t. You got this. It’ll speak for him.”

  “All the same—”

  “Frankie, those boys be in the wind. Cops won’t find them and neither will you. This one was about me more than you and Al. It’s taken care of. Code to get into that phone is 1400TY. You need to write that down?”

  “I got it.”

  I type it in to make sure. It opens up to the icons. I look at Darling, then back to the screen and tap the icon for photos. He has more than two thousand photos on here and more than three hundred videos. I tap one of the videos. It reveals him tilting the phone up to my car.

 

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