by Glenn, Roy
"And suppose I did?" Nick looked around the room. "I can drop every ass in this joint if I had to."
"I fuckin’ know you can, Nick. I fuckin’ know you can."
"Don’t worry about it, Sal. Freeze is with me."
"Freeze! Shit, I haven’t seen his ass in years. Where’s he at?"
"Over there." Nick pointed at Freeze.
Sally Fitz threw up his arms. "Call him over."
"He’s watchin’ my back."
"This sounds fuckin’ serious."
"Someplace quiet we can talk, Sal?"
"Outside. Come on." Nick followed Sally Fitz, and Freeze followed them both out of the club. The two Cubans followed Freeze. Sally Fitz walked across the street and waved for Freeze to join them. Once again, Freeze declined Sally Fitz’s invitation, choosing instead to keep his eye on the two Cubans, who stood twenty feet away.
"So, what’s up, Nick?" Sally Fitz asked.
"I’m lookin’ for a guy named Sal that hangs out with a couple of Latinos."
Sally Fitz looked at the Cubans. "Seems like you found him," he answered.
"Not you, Sal. The Sal I’m looking for kidnapped Mike Black’s wife yesterday in the Bahamas."
"That definitely ain’t me. And if Black thinks it’s me, you make sure you tell him that I didn’t have shit to do with it. Me and him go too far back, Nick. Come on. Me, you, Angelo and Black, back in the day, fuckin’ forget about it. I would never. You tell him that."
"I know, Sal. I was there when it happened, so I know it wasn’t you. But you know people, Sal. I was hopin’ that you knew the guy, since you both got the same name."
"Shit, Nick, you know how many guys there are named Sal?"
"Yeah, but like I said, this one hangs with two Latinos, probably South American."
Sally Fitz thought for a minute. "Now that you mention it, I think I do know who you’re talkin’ about. Sal Terrico. Does a lot of business south of the border."
"You know where I can find him?"
"I got no fuckin’ idea. I only met the guy a few times. And for the life of me, I can’t remember who it was that introduced us. Only reason I remember is ’cause we was both in the same place and somebody calls him and I answered. And that’s been years ago."
"What does he look like?"
"Shit, I don’t know. He’s a tall, lanky guy, maybe six foot, black hair, mustache."
"Anything at all you could tell me about him?"
"All I can tell you about this guy is that he loves black chicks. He was with a different one every time I seen him. The guy was ravin’ about how Queens had the best black strip clubs in the city, and how he been to all of them."
"He say what his favorite was?"
"Place called Cityscape or some shit like that."
"Thanks, Sal. You’ve been a big help," Nick said and started to walk away.
"Forget about it. I hope you get this guy. Hey, Nick, it’s funny you come by ’cause I got something you might be interested in."
"What’s that?"
"Really it’s something you could do for me. You know a guy named Paris?"
"Paris, yeah I know him. Considers himself an information broker. We did some business together. Why?"
"Yeah, well, he don’t consider himself that no more, ’cause he’s fuckin’ dead."
"Who killed him?"
"One of his mules."
"Why’d the mule kill him?"
"Paris sent somebody to kill her, but his bitch kills him. So Paris sends two more guys after her. She whacks them. Then she shows up in LA and she puts a bullet in his brain."
"Just a regular Pam Grier, ain’t she?"
"You know what I’m sayin’?"
"It’s a colorful story, Sal, but why you tellin’ me this shit?"
"When Paris sent the first guy after her, she was carryin’ a package for him. The package was never recovered. And the buyer really wanted that package."
"And?"
"I don’t know who the buyer was, but your pal General Peterson was brokering the deal."
"Now you got my attention. What was in the package?"
"The way I get it, it’s got somethin’ to do with South America and drugs."
Nick took a deep breath. He knew that the buyer had to be Diego Estabon. Both the General and Felix worked for him, so it made sense that he was the buyer. That would also explain Diego’s interest in him. If he couldn’t kill Nick, then maybe he could get Black to do it for him by accusing Nick of being DEA.
"You want something, Sal. What is it?"
"With Paris and the General both dead and the package still in the open, I figure a smart guy like me could step in and clean up. But I need to know what I’m looking for, so I was hopin’ that since you was down there fuckin’ around with the General, you might know something about it."
"Sorry, Sal, I can’t help you," Nick lied. He had a good idea what was in those papers. There was probably enough information in them to get a lot of people in trouble for their involvement in the illegal drug eradication that Nick’s unit was involved in. Diego was probably not the only one anxious to make those papers disappear, along with Nick and his partners, who could be called to testify if the truth ever surfaced in Washington.
"Good luck. I hope it works out for you." Without another word, Nick left Sally Fitz standing there.
As Freeze drove off, Nick told him what Sally Fitz told him about Sal Terrico. Freeze immediately called Black.
"I know," Black said. "We got a tip from Angelo. We’re on our way there now."
"He likes the black tittie joints in Queens, but Cityscape is his favorite."
"You and Nick check that out. I’ll call you later," Mike said.
"We’re on it," Freeze said and turned to Nick. "We gotta check out that club," he said, but Nick didn’t answer. "Nick, you all right, man?"
"Huh?"
"Black wants us to check out Cityscape."
"Okay," Nick replied, but his mind was still on Felix and the General and those missing papers. If those papers were still in the open and the buyer still wanted them, then Monika might still be in danger.
"Drive by the hospital, Freeze. I need to check on Monika."
Chapter Thirteen
On Angelo’s word, Bobby drove out to Queens to a house on Maxwell Road. They both knew the place. It was known to be a shooting gallery, where a select clientele came to buy and shoot heroin. The place was run by a guy called Dirty Red. They called him that because of his long, red hair and beard, not to mention the fact that he was a dirty muthafucka. Some of Red’s customers were important people who came there to get high in a safe and secure atmosphere.
Bobby parked the car, and he and Mike put on their gloves. They approached the house and knocked on the door. Mike took out his gun. One of Red’s men opened the door. "Red here?" Bobby asked the huge man.
"Never heard of him."
"Yeah, right," Mike said as he hit the man in the head with his gun.
"Heard of him now?" Bobby asked as the man fell to the floor. Then Bobby hit him again to be sure he was out cold.
Red heard the noise and came down the hall. "Black, Bobby, what are you doin’ out here?" Red was a tall man, but he didn’t weigh more than 185 pounds.
"We came for the same thing everybody else does. We came to see you, Red," Bobby said as he literally pushed his way past Red.
"I didn’t know you guys were into this stuff. Well, since you’re already in, what can I do for you?"
"We’re lookin’ for Sal Terrico," Bobby explained.
"Never heard of him," Red answered.
"Come on, Red," Bobby said. "Stop fuckin’ around. We’re lookin’ for Sal Terrico. Is he here?"
"Look, I know people, important people," Red said.
"It was those people who sent us here," Bobby explained as Mike walked down the hall. He heard voices and saw a light coming from a room at the end of the hall.
"Whoa," Red said. "Slow down. You can’t just come in
here and start wandering around." Red walked up on Mike and reached for his shoulder, but before he could touch Mike, Bobby grabbed Red. He spun him around and grabbed Red’s throat. "What the fuck are you doin’?" Red said, clutching his throat.
"You’re not listening to me, Red," Bobby said. "And it hurts me." Bobby tightened his grip and Red gasped for air. "Now, let start again. We’re lookin’ for Sal Terrico."
While Bobby busied himself with Red, Mike reached the end of the hall. The room turned out to be the kitchen. A man who looked very impatient and a woman holding a spoon over a candlelit flame were seated at the table. In front of her lay a thin rubber hose and a metal box with syringes in it.
"What took you so long, Red? Marge here is ready to fly. Aren’t you, sweetie?" the man said and looked up to see that it was not Red, but Mike. "Hello," the man said.
"You should go," Mike said softly, and took his gun out of his pocket.
"What the—?"
"Now."
Both the man and the woman started to stand up. Mike looked at the woman. She was an attractive woman with long, blonde hair, very pretty eyes, and entirely too much makeup. "You stay. Finish what you were doin’."
"But that’s mine. I paid for it," the man said. Mike looked at him. "Okay, okay, I’m going."
The man rushed out of the kitchen and down the hall past Bobby, who was still holding Red by the throat. "Bye-bye, sweetie," Bobby said. Once he was out, Bobby pushed Red into the kitchen, just as the woman finished filling a syringe with the heroin she’d been cooking. Mike held out his hand and she passed it to him.
"Now you can go."
With a very relieved look on her face, the woman quickly gathered her things. "So, I’ll call you, Red."
As soon as the woman was gone, Bobby grabbed Red again. With one arm, Mike cleared everything from the table. Bobby threw Red down on the table and held him there. "We’re looking for Sal Terrico. Is he here?" Bobby yelled.
"Fuck you, nigger. You can’t just walk on in here and—" Red began to protest, but Mike punched him in the face.
"You don’t want me to have to go room to room looking for him. If I do, most of your customers will never come back here. They’ll find someplace else to shoot themselves to oblivion," Mike said as he stood over Red with the syringe in his hand.
"What you gonna do?" Red laughed. "Shoot me with my own shit?" Red pulled up his sleeve to reveal his track marks. "Go ahead! All I’ll be is high! And I still ain’t tellin’ you shit!"
"Hold his head, Bobby."
Bobby grabbed Red by the throat with one hand and held his forehead with the other. Mike held his gun to Red’s head and slowly moved the syringe toward Red’s eye. "Who said I was gonna put it in your arm?" Mike inched the syringe closer.
Red tried to move his head, but Bobby’s grip was too tight. The terror was apparent on Red’s face as the syringe came close to his eye.
"Okay!"
Mike stopped. "Where is he?"
"Okay, he was here. But he’s gone now."
"Was he alone?"
"No. He had some black chick with him."
Bobby looked at Mike. "What she look like?" he asked.
"She was tall for a chick, five-nine, maybe five-ten. Dark-skinned with long hair," Red gasped as Bobby tightened his grip on Red’s throat.
"Was she all right?"
"Yes!" Red spit out. "She was all over him, beggin’ him to hurry up and get it."
Mike looked at Bobby. Since he knew that Cassandra wasn’t a shooter, Mike assumed it wasn’t her. On top of that, it wouldn’t make any sense at all for Sal to be riding around with her.
He was breathing hard, his heart was pounding. He wanted to kill Red. Mike knew that he needed to pull up. Red may become useful if Sal came back. "Sal, he come here a lot?" he asked.
"Whenever he’s in town."
Mike moved his gun away from Red’s head and threw the syringe on the floor. Bobby grabbed Red and pulled him up from the table. "If he comes here again, you call me at this number."
Chapter Fourteen
Bobby followed Mike out of the house, leaving Red clutching his throat and breathing hard. As soon as they were in Bobby’s car, Mike called Freeze. "Where are you?"
"At the hospital."
"The hospital? What happened?"
"Everything’s cool."
"Then what you doin’ at the hospital?"
"I’ll let Nick explain that to you," Freeze said as he watched Nick push Monika’s wheelchair out of the hospital.
"Put him on."
"He can’t talk right now. He’s doin’ what he gotta do."
"This about that girl that worked with him? What was her name?"
"Monika."
Mike held the phone and thought about what Freeze had told him about Nick’s two partners. He said that while they were investigating Chilly, Monika had been shot five times. Two shots in the chest, two to the head, one hit her above the left ear. She caught one in her eye, and they weren’t able to save the eye. The other one was in her hand. The next day, Nick found his other partner, Jett Bronson, dead with a trail of blood coming from his ear. "Tell him to call me," Mike said and hung up the phone.
As soon as he handed the phone back to Bobby the phone rang. Bobby looked at the number on the display, put the phone down, and started the car. "Where we goin’ now?"
"Let’s go check out Cityscape. It’s a tittie bar on Queens Boulevard."
Bobby put the car in drive and wiped the sweat from his brow. "What’s goin’ on at the hospital?"
"Nick’s taking care of some unfinished business. But fuck that for now. What I wanna know is what’s up with this woman."
"Her name is Cat. I met her at Cynt’s."
"What were you doin’ at Cynt’s?"
"You remember when Wanda was losing her mind about Freeze letting things run down at Cuisine and gettin’ sloppy with everything else?"
"Yeah, what about it?"
"She asked me if I’d, you know, make the rounds, check up on him, see if shit was runnin’ right."
"Okay."
"Freeze introduced me to her and she danced for me. Damn, that bitch can dance, and she was cool. I wasn’t even tryin’ to fuck her. We would just hang out, talk shit, that’s it."
"Yeah, right. You knew you were gonna end up fuckin’ her when you started hangin’ out with her," Mike said.
Bobby smiled. "She’s a young girl, barely twenty-two, fine as hell; nice-sized titties, little bitty waist, with a toot-booty that can stop traffic. That body made her one of the most popular dancers at Cynt’s."
"Young girl blow your mind."
Bobby paused before saying, "Yeah."
"So, you been hangin’ out at Cynt’s with this woman?"
"Not anymore. Cynt fired her for being late or not showing up at all."
"Was she with you when she was late or not showing up at all?"
"Yeah."
Mike started laughing. "You got the girl fired from her job, Bobby?"
Bobby laughed.
"Fuckin’ up Cynt’s business over some pussy? You know better than that," Mike said, continuing to laugh as Bobby’s phone rang again. Bobby looked at the display, and once again he put the phone down without answering.
"That her?"
"Yeah," Bobby said louder than he needed to.
"She’s kind of a pest, ain’t she?"
Bobby shook his head. "Mike, you just don’t know."
"If she’s that much of a pest, why don’t you cut her loose?"
"I tried, but she won’t go."
"The fuck you mean, she won’t go?"
"She won’t leave me alone. She’ll call with some excuse to get me over there. Dumb shit, like she need a ride someplace or I got something of hers and she gotta have it right then."
"And you go?" Mike questioned.
"Yeah. I know what’s gonna happen when I get there, but I do it anyway."
Mike looked at Bobby like he was a fool. "You’re ei
ther a fool or you’re pussy whipped."
"Pussy whipped. She’ll always find a way to come out of her clothes or she’ll just answer the door naked and I gotta fuck her. One time, she called me and said that she needed me to come get her from Cynt’s ’cause she was locked out and needed to go to the Bowery to meet a friend of hers to get the keys," Bobby explained. "So I tell Pam that I gotta go make the rounds."
"Hold up," Mike interrupted. "What rounds? You ain’t made rounds in years."
"Come on, Mike. Who does Pam talk to? She don’t talk to Freeze, she thinks Wanda is overbearing, her and Shy are great friends, but only when they see each other." Bobby paused. "So I blamed it on you."
"What?"
"After that thing with Wanda and Freeze, I told her that you said I had to start making the rounds, you know, just to make sure things are goin’ right. So when she calls, I tell Pam it’s you reminding me that I need to make the rounds, ’cause you know I forget shit, especially shit I hate doin’."
"The old Bobby is back." Mike laughed. "You always were a lyin’-ass, pussy-gettin’ muthafucka. I’m surprised you lasted so long. But let me ask you this. Why couldn’t you just tell her you were goin’ to the club?"
"She could call the club or just show up there. You know how she likes to just show up there. See, if I’m making the rounds, all she’ll do is call my cell. I’d even call her from some of the houses."
"You were actually making the rounds and taking her with you."
"Yeah."
"How come I’m just hearin’ about this?"
Bobby just looked at him.
"How long has this been goin’ on?"
"Six, maybe seven months."
"You sportin’ this bitch around with you for six months? Your ass was out of control." Mike laughed. "It’s not that I give a fuck if you get some pussy. I’m just surprised, that’s all. All these years you’ve been playing the happily married man with kids. You were the only faithful man I knew."
"Yeah, well, now you can be the only faithful man I know." Bobby laughed.
"What happened to all that shit about finding the right woman?"
"I did. I married her."
"You ain’t thinkin’ about leavin’ Pam, are you?"
"No," Bobby said absolutely. "I would never leave Pam. I love her."
