Before making the call, he went to the refrigerator and removed a block of Fontina. It was an intense cheese with a pungent aroma that drove most Americans to run as if it were poison. He leaned close and breathed deeply. Heaven.
Dominic looked up a number on his private cell, lit his pipe, and then dialed. It rang three times.
“Donovan.”
“Detective, are you alone?”
“Who’s this?”
“An acquaintance calling in a favor.”
“Hold on, I’ve got people with me.” A moment later, Frankie came back on. “Mangini, you don’t have a favor to call in.”
“This is about Concetta. She’s in trouble, and I need your help.”
“What kind of trouble?” Frankie asked. “And more importantly, what kind of help?”
Dominic took a long draw on his pipe. “A drug leader from one of the cartels is trying to kill her.”
“Carlos Cortes?” Frankie asked.
“The same one who tried to kill her before,” Dominic said. “It’s not often I say this, but I need help.”
“What can I do about it? Isn’t she in Houston?”
“I have information that one of your friends is also in Houston. A man named Paulie Perlano.”
“No idea,” Frankie said.
Dominic remained silent for a moment. “I have nothing against your friend. I only want to talk to him.”
“Don’t give me that shit. How is talking to Paulie going to help you with Carlos?”
“It is difficult to express myself clearly when talking to a police officer, but let’s say that I have a man in Texas. All I need is a guide.”
“A guide? You’re not asking Paulie to…”
“No, Detective. I won’t ask him to kill anyone. You have my word.”
“And after this is over with?”
“He will be in good graces—with everyone. He could even return to New York if he wants to.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Frankie said.
“Please see to it quickly. My information tells me Concetta only has a few hours.”
***
Frankie kept a burner in case he ever needed to use one. Today he needed it. He checked to make sure no one was near, then dialed Paulie’s number.
“Yeah.”
Frankie couldn’t help but smile at the sound of Paulie’s voice; it brought back such good memories. “I bet you’re still wearing suits, aren’t you?”
It didn’t take Paulie long to recognize the voice. “Bugs? For Christ’s sake, tell me it ain’t Bugs Donovan.”
“How’s it going, Paulie?”
“I hope you’re calling to tell me you’re in Houston.”
“I wish. But I’m calling for something serious. Shit, I don’t even know why I’m calling.”
“Spit it out. What’s up?”
“I don’t know how to say this any other way. Dominic Mangini asked me to call.”
“What? What the fuck is wrong with you? You didn’t give him my number, did you? Did you tell him where I am?”
“Easy, Suit. Goddamn.”
“You don’t know what you’ve done,” Suit said.
“Calm down and listen. Things aren’t like they were when you left. Dominic said there are no hard feelings. He needs a favor to help his niece. That’s all this is about.”
“What’s going on up there? Are you hooked up with Mangini?”
“You’re pissing me off now. Hell no, I’m not with Mangini. I’m calling you because his niece is a cop. I worked with her on a case, and now she’s in Houston. And she’s in trouble.”
Frankie waited through a long silence. After maybe ten seconds, Paulie said, “What’s he want me to do?”
“I have no idea. I’ve got a number. You can call him.”
“Bugs, you swear this is on the up and up? I mean, this is my life we’re talking about.”
“I swear on the oath we took as kids. I’d never do that to you. And I can vouch for Mangini. As much as the man is a murdering scumbag, from what I’ve seen, he does keep his word. And he gave me his word.”
“So you trust him?”
“I do.”
“Give me the number.”
***
Dominic put water on for espresso and placed the cup and saucer on the table, next to the cheese. Then he reached into the corner cabinet and selected one of his favorite olive oils. While waiting on the espresso, he began the ritual of slicing garlic. This cheese was so good it could tempt a man to break his word.
The phone rang, and Dominic answered. “Pronto.”
“Bugs said you wanted to talk.”
“I assume you are wearing a suit?”
“Yeah, Mr. Mangini. It’s me, Paulie ‘The Suit’ Perlano.”
“We have shared many friends in the past,” Dominic said. “And there is no reason not to share them in the future.”
“I understand you want a favor,” Paulie said.
“Sometimes a man needs things. If you can help me, you will have all of your old friends and many new friends.”
“So you’re saying I’ll be forgiven. Like the priests do in confession?”
“A strange comparison, but not inaccurate.”
“What do you need done?”
Dominic explained it to Paulie then asked Paulie for his phone number and said a man would contact him with more details. When Dominic hung up, he called Fabrizio and told him the plan. Then he finished the cheese, took a last sip of espresso, and dialed one more number.
“Si, signore.”
“Tell the doctor to pack his bags.”
Chapter 53
The Trap Is Sprung
Stenson had several of his guys set up outside, ready for whatever happened. We were all in the coffee room when Tip’s phone rang. He answered and then signaled for something to write with. I tossed him a pen then grabbed a piece of paper from beside the coffee machine.
“Hold up, Chicky. I need to write that down.” He scribbled an address on the paper. “You’re sure about this? This better pay off. I don’t want to look like a goddamn ass.” Tip gave us the thumbs up sign. “All right. You’re the best, Chick. I’ll be seeing you soon. If this plays out like I think, I might introduce you to Mr. Franklin.”
Tip hung up with a smile as big as Texas on his face. “We just hit the mother lode.”
“You must have if you promised him a hundred.”
“Shit, I’ll give him two hundred.”
“So what have you got, Tip?” This came from Charlie.
Tip smacked his palm on the desk. “Chicky gave us a lead on where Carlos is storing the meth. It’s a warehouse down on Navigation. Hang on, I need to call Coop.”
While Tip talked to Coop, I remained alert. I tried not to be obvious about watching Herb, but it was difficult. I wanted to kick his ass. Herb showed no signs; in fact, he seemed to be ignoring us. He was good. What made someone do this? And I thought again about Uncle Dominic and the things he’d done. It was men like him who corrupted cops. But that wasn’t entirely true. Men like Dominic simply found the cops who could already be corrupted. A fine line separated the two ideas, but there was a difference.
Tip hung up. “Coop’s coordinating this. She’s got Narcotics involved, but they can’t put it together until tonight. Son of a bitch, I’d like to be there.”
“This will put a dent in Carlos’ operations,” Delgado said.
Charlie walked to the machine and poured more coffee. As he mixed creamer in it, he said, “Herb, you want to catch a smoke?”
“I’m good, Charlie, but thanks for asking.”
We were ready to put the trap in motion. I had even been thinking about saying something to Charlie and letting him in on it, and then he said that. I decided to test the waters. “Charlie, when you get a minute, I need help on some paperwork for the Snider case.”
“Sure thing, Connie. I’m gonna catch a quick smoke, and then I’ll get on it. I won’t be but a minute.”
Herb was occu
pied at his laptop, then I turned back to Charlie, who was walking toward the steps to go outside. I almost fell out of my seat. It’s Charlie! Goddamn. It’s him.
Tip and Delgado shot me looks as if to say, What the hell is going on?
I shrugged and shook my head. They had to be thinking the same thing I was—It’s not Herb. It’s Charlie.
I couldn’t believe it, but the pieces all fit. I recalled that once or twice, Charlie went out for a smoke alone. I thought maybe I’d forgotten about Herb. But now I knew.
And with the way Charlie always seemed to be lurking around the corner, asking questions, volunteering to help…
Son of a bitch. It is him.
All that was left was to figure out how he was doing it, and if he was working alone.
***
Charlie walked out the front door to the sidewalk. The parking lot spread out before him. He leaned against the wall, took a cigarette from his pack, cupped his hands to shield it from the wind, and then lit it. A huge puff of smoke came from his mouth as he rested his head against the wall.
One of Stenson’s men watched from inside his car near the end of the parking lot. He had binoculars trained on Charlie. Two more officers were waiting at the side in a van. It took a few minutes, but Charlie finished the cigarette, crushed it out on the walk, and then walked into the building. The man watching from his car called Connie on her cell.
“Yeah?”
“Nothing. He smoked a cigarette and went back inside. Didn’t use the phone and didn’t talk to anyone.”
“What the hell? You’re sure?”
“I watched him the whole time through binoculars, for God’s sake.”
“All right. Let me know if anything changes.”
Stenson’s man continued to watch. Within a couple of minutes, another officer exited the building. He stood in the same spot as Charlie had—and smoked a cigarette. When he finished, he flicked the butt into the parking lot and tossed his cigarette pack into the trash can. After that, he walked inside.
Stenson’s man waited a few minutes, then was about to call it quits when what looked to be a homeless man shuffled slowly toward the building. He stopped, looked through the trash can, and pulled out the cigarette pack that the other officer had thrown away. He didn’t look inside it; he just placed the pack in his pocket.
Getting interesting.
Stenson’s man called Connie. “We’ve got a new player. He picked a cigarette pack out of the can.”
“What? Who put it there?”
“Your other guy. Herb.”
“Son of a bitch. Keep me posted.”
The homeless man walked across the parking lot, but his walk was a little faster now, his posture a little better. He opened the door to a car parked at the edge of the lot next to a dark tan pickup, got inside, and pulled out a cell phone. Stenson’s man called the other two men on the radio.
“Wait until he’s finished,” he said.
“We’re on it.”
When the man put the cell phone down, Stenson’s man signaled the others. “Now.”
The other two men pulled in behind the car just as he was trying to back out of the space. They got out, guns drawn.
“Police! Get out of the car. Now.”
The man reached for something, but the officers were on him. One yanked the door open and shoved the gun in his face. “Don’t move.”
The other officer grabbed the phone and handcuffed him, and then they emptied his pockets. By the time Connie, Tip, and Delgado arrived, the officers had the items laid out on the hood of the car. Connie reached for the cigarette pack. A folded piece of paper lay inside.
Meth is compromised. Move it before tonight.
“Son of a bitch,” she said.
Tip looked over her shoulder. “That mother fucker,” he said, and ran for the building.
“Tip, don’t. Wait, damn it!” Connie grabbed Delgado. “Come on. We have to stop him.”
***
Tip raced up the steps, taking them two at a time. Charlie was at his desk, typing on the keyboard. Tip ran past him, grabbed Herb’s shirt collar, and yanked him out of the seat. He slammed Herb into the wall, the back of his head hitting it with a thud.
“What the fuck?” Herb screamed.
Tip punched his face and then tossed him across the hall into the other wall. People gathered around, but no one interfered. Herb held up his arms, protecting himself, but Tip pummeled him with punches to the gut and face.
Delgado was the first to arrive, with Connie right behind him. Delgado grabbed Tip from behind, but Tip shrugged him off. Herb broke free, but Tip came at him again. Herb reached for his gun.
Connie drew hers and pointed it. “Drop it!” She moved forward, gun leveled at his chest, her finger on the trigger.
Tip was seething. “You motherfucker.”
Connie moved in front of Tip, between him and Herb. “Lay the gun on the floor, Herb. Gently.”
He bent his knees and set the gun on the floor then he stood. Delgado cuffed him.
Coop came running down the hall. “What the hell is going on?”
“It was Herb,” Connie said.
Coop balled her hand into a fist. She looked as if she would hit him. “Take that piece of shit away,” she said.
Delgado got up in Herb’s face. “You know what they’ll do to you in prison? I hope you die in there.”
Connie pushed him forward. “How could you do this? How could you betray the badge?”
“Who the hell ever cared one bit about me?” Herb said. “All I ever got from anyone here was a raft of shit.”
“And you think that drug-dealing asshole cares?” Delgado asked. “I hope you rot in hell.”
“This was hell,” Herb said.
Herb moved back as Tip approached. “I’m gonna spread the word. I’ll tell everybody that you turned on Carlos. They’ll be waiting for you.”
“Fuck you,” Herb said.
“No, they’ll save that for you. Have fun.”
Julie came rushing down the hall. “We just got a call. Someone spotted El Terrible’s car in a parking lot near her house.”
“We’re on the way,” Connie said.
Chapter 54
Carlos Is Free
Paulie hung up from Dominic and called his wife. “Hey, babe. I got something to do. I won’t be home for dinner.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s great. I gotta go now. I love you.”
“I love you too. Be careful.”
Paulie “the Suit” Perlano got in his car and headed toward the city. He made a stop at the Galleria, where he was to meet someone. He pulled into the lot and navigated to the back section. A man was there waiting, leaning against a car. Paulie didn’t need a description to know that this was the right one. The man had the look all killers had. The same look Nicky had.
Paulie pulled up close and rolled down his window. “I’m Suit.”
The man extended his hand. “Fabrizio,” he said, with a hint of an Italian accent.
Fabrizio got into the passenger seat. Two men sat in Paulie’s backseat. They nodded to him.
“What’s the plan?” Paulie asked.
“The lawyer will call his driver to pick them up. We will intercept him and explain that it would be in his best interest to let us pick them up.”
“And the driver?” Paulie asked.
Fabrizio shook his head. “If he cooperates, he goes home to have dinner with his wife.”
One of the men in back leaned forward. “And if he doesn’t?”
Fabrizio turned to him and smiled. “He will.”
“And after we pick up the package?” the man asked.
“You will follow us to make sure there are no tails.”
“Sounds easy,” the man said.
“It will be,” Fabrizio said.
Several blocks from the courthouse, Paulie pulled in front of the limo scheduled to pick up Carlos and his lawyer. When he stopped the c
ar at a traffic signal, Fabrizio exited and walked to the driver’s side of the limo. He tapped the window. When the driver rolled it down, Fabrizio showed him a gun.
“I am going to ride with you, if you don’t mind.”
The driver unlocked the doors. Fabrizio walked around and got in the passenger seat. “Do exactly as we say, or we will kill you. And then my men will kill your wife and children.”
“What do you want?” the driver asked.
“Your job is easy. Do what you always do. When your passengers arrive, open the doors for them and then close them. We will take care of the rest.”
“What happens after that?”
“You won’t be hurt as long as you do your part, and you don’t talk.”
“I understand,” the driver said.
Fabrizio smiled. “Trust me, signore. You will not be harmed.”
A few moments later, the driver’s cell phone rang.
“Hello? Yes, Mr. Griffin. I’m almost there. Maybe one minute.”
When the driver pulled to the curb, Carlos and two other men walked toward the car.
Fabrizio finished giving everyone instructions, and then positioned himself outside the car. He stood not fifty feet away. Be calm, he thought to the driver. Do what you always do.
The driver got out and walked to the other side. He held the door open for Mr. Griffin and his guests. A big man got in first, followed by Mr. Griffin. The driver walked to the other side and let Carlos in. Then he shut the door and signaled Fabrizio with a nod of the head, as he had been instructed.
Fabrizio nodded in return.
Paulie approached the car from behind, Fabrizio from the side. Paulie climbed into the driver’s seat, Fabrizio into the passenger side. They locked the doors, put the car in drive, and pulled away.
The glass panel separating the driver from the backseat was soundproof and heavily tinted. Paulie rolled it down as he drove, and Fabrizio turned to look at the men riding in back.
Griffin looked at Fabrizio and then quickly glanced at Paulie. “Where is Timothy? Who are you? Who is that driving?”
“No need for concern,” Fabrizio said. “You are in my hands now.”
“We’ll see about that,” Griffin said, and pulled out his cell phone.
“Put the phone away, signore.”
Bullet From Dominic Page 28
