The Good Son
Page 8
“About this gun business,” Priest interrupted his thoughts. “I’m not sure how Shai is going to take this. You know he has a strict policy about the Clarks not getting involved with guns. It’s too risky.”
“And selling heroin isn’t?” Tommy shot back. “If Shai was so worried about what was going on with the Italians, he’d have been here to take this meeting instead of running off to do God knows what with Angelo and Big Doc. He ain’t gonna have shit to say about this little deal I made because we ain’t gonna tell him… at least not yet. This deal is about me, not the family. I’m used to earning my way, not depending on the mercies of my little brother.”
A disapproving look crossed Priest’s face.
“You got a problem with that, Priest?”
“My job is to pass judgment on our enemies, not members of this family. I am here to serve the Clarks,” Priest told him.
“And you’d do well to remember it.”
“Do I even want to know how you found out about Louie’s gun connect?” Priest asked.
“A little jumpoff I’m knocking down is connected to the guy Louie is getting the guns from,” Tommy said, much to Priest’s surprise. “Don’t look so shocked. I can’t feel shit below the waist but I still get the occasional erection. These days sex is more of a psychological thing for me than for pleasure.”
“I guess The Cross’ treatments worked a little better than we expected,” Priest said in awe.
“You don’t know the half,” Tommy flexed his hand. “Now about this shit bird Mr. G wants clipped.”
“I’ll take care of it. The Black Lotus is in town - I’ll set her to the task,” Priest offered.
“Nah, we’ll save her for something more befitting of someone of her talents. We’ll let one of the soldiers take care of it.” Tommy thought on it for a few ticks. “As a matter of fact, those little niggas from the Dog Pound are always looking for a come up. We’ll put one of them on it.”
“Tech? Maybe Brasco?”
“Tech has got his head shoved too far up Swann’s ass for me to trust him to keep this quiet, and I don’t like that fat fuck Brasco. We’ll give it to the other one - the little fucker with the grills and bushy hair.”
“No!” Priest blurted out to Tommy’s surprise. “What I mean is, he’s barely a child. If this Nicky that we’ve been asked to murder is Nicky The Gent, then he’s a real piece of work. I’m not sure Animal is ready,” he tried to clean it up.
“Have you forgotten that this child, as you call him, presented my brother with a human head to prove himself?” Tommy reminded him. “I’d say he’s more than qualified.”
Before Priest could try and argue further, Duffy walked in. He seemed startled when he noticed Priest in the room. “I’m sorry, T. Didn’t know you had company.” He apologized, quietly wondering how Priest had managed to slip passed him.
“It’s fine, Priest was just leaving.” Tommy said, dismissing the assassin.
Priest gave a curt nod before slipping from the room.
“That guy give me the creeps,” Duffy said once Priest had gone.
“He should. Priest has been putting niggas in the ground since before either of us were born. I can give the history of the Brotherhood another time, but for now I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything, T,” Duffy said excitedly. He couldn’t wait to get out of that suit and back into the streets.
“I need you to make a run into Harlem to get something for me.” Tommy grabbed a slip of paper and a pen from the satchel hanging from the arm of his wheel chair and scribbled an address down on it.
“Sure, T. Anything. What do you need me to get?” Duffy asked, stuffing the slip of paper into his pocket.
“Not a what, but a who. Tell the Animal that the Clarks have need of his services.”
The mention of his name made the hairs on Duffy’s arms stand. He had never met The Animal, but the stories he’d heard painted him as a homicidal imp that got his jollies off the misery of others. Duffy wasn’t entirely sure if the stories had been exaggerated or if the devil really did walk the earth, but he wasn’t too happy about being the one sent to find out.
“You got a problem with what I’m asking you?” Tommy noticed Duffy’s hesitation.
“No, no problem at all.” Duffy checked himself.
“Glad to hear it. And as far as me receiving any more appointments, ain’t my problem or concern. I ain’t Shai’s secretary. They can wait for him to come back or go the fuck home.” Tommy wheeled himself over near the widow and gazed out at the lawn.
“I figured you’d say that and I told him as much, but this guy says he’s your family,” Duffy explained.
Tommy cocked his head. “Family? Ain’t much of that left besides me, Shai and Hope. Whoever the fuck it is, tell them I said, ‘Beat it,’” he capped, loud enough for whoever was waiting outside to hear. Tommy dismissed Duffy and picked up his book to go back to his reading.
“Damn, that’s how Nappy Black do his family these days?” Tommy heard a familiar voice from the hallway, and it froze him. There were only two people who referred to him as Nappy Black: his brother Shai and the man who had given him the nickname in the first place. He dropped the book and wheeled himself towards the door so fast that he nicked one of his fingers in the spokes.
Standing there, still trying to convince Duffy to let him pass, was a face Tommy hadn’t seen in years; a face not all that different from his own. He was tall and dark-skinned, dressed in jeans, combat boots and a tattered fatigue jacket. He had shaved off his dreads and now wore his hair in a low afro that had begun to gray around the temples. He had aged quite a bit, but his lips still wore the mischievous grin he would always flash at Tommy as a kid, right before convincing him to do something that would likely get him into trouble.
Seeing that Tommy was watching, Duffy doubled his efforts to get the man to leave. He was about to lay hands on him when Tommy motioned for him to stand down. Duffy didn’t like it, or the looks of the man, but it wasn’t his place to argue with Tommy.
“Pardon yourself, lil’ nigga.” The man popped the collar of his jacket and bumped Duffy as he passed him.
“The devil must be slipping if he let you sneak out of hell,” Tommy glared up at the man.
The man placed his hand over his heart and flashed Tommy a mock-wounded look. “Now what kind of greeting is that for your favorite cousin?”
PART II
“FAMILY TIES”
CHAPTER 10
“I think you coming in person is a bad idea,” Big Doc said for the fifth time as he pulled the car into one of the empty parking spaces.
“I don’t like it either, Angie, but Sol wouldn’t have asked me to come unless it were absolutely necessary, especially in the middle of my baby shower. Let’s go in, see what the fuck is going on and get out.” Shai climbed from the backseat.
Angelo led the way through the crowded parking lot with Big Doc bringing up the rear and keeping Shai wedged between them. Both men’s eyes constantly swept back and forth for danger. It was the middle of the day and the Newark airport Ramada was busy with guests coming and going so the chances of someone trying something were slim, but you could never be too careful.
When they stepped through the automatic glass doors, they were greeted by a tall white man, with a head full of wavy black hair. His black suit was perfectly tailored and the white shirt beneath was freshly starched. He wore no tie, and left the top few buttons undone so you could see the gold Star of David hanging from his neck. Big Doc stepped forward to intercept the man, but Shai waved him off.
“What’s good, Jacob?” Shai extended his hand. Jacob was Sol Lansky’s nephew. He and Shai had met years ago when he was still in high school and Jacob was home visiting for the holidays. He was a graduate of Harvard Law, and had spent the last ten years in Israel working for the government. He was ex-Mossad and from what Shai had heard, very good at what he did.
“Nothing,” Jacob said flatly. W
orry lines were etched across his face.
“Is your uncle…” Shai began, but was cut off when Jacob raised a finger to his lips for silence.
“Not here. Too many prying ears.” Jacob looked around suspiciously. “Follow me, please.” He led them to the elevators. The entire ride up to the fourth floor, Angelo and Big Doc exchanged suspicious glances. If Jacob noticed, he showed no signs of it as he kept his face neutral. When they got off, they headed to a room at the end of the hall. Jacob removed a key-card from his jacket pocket, but paused. “I trust anything you see beyond this point will remain between us.”
Shai nodded in agreement. “Jacob, what’s going on?”
“I can show you better than I can tell you.” Jacob slipped the key into the slot and released the lock. He pushed the door open and stood to the side for Shai to enter. Jacob was family, but Shai was no fool, so he let Angelo enter first.
“Holy shit!” they heard Angelo say from inside the room.
Big Doc went in next with Shai following close behind. When Shai beheld the scene in the room, all he could say is, “What the fuck have you done?”
*
Sol Lansky sat in a chair in the corner, steel gray eyes staring straight ahead and a cigarette burning between his withered fingers. Normally Sol was the epitome of composure, but he looked nervous, which was a bad sign. He spared a glance at Shai, before going back to his staring.
The hotel room was a mess; empty bottles of whiskey and beer littered around and clothes strewn across the chair and spilling onto the floor. On the nightstand, a used condom sat atop of mound of cigarette butts in an overflowing ashtray. It looked more like a drug house than the cozy hotel the adds billed it to be, but it wasn’t the filth that held Shai’s attention. It was the girl stretched out across one of the twin beds. She was a thin blonde with plastic breasts and icy blue eyes that stared out into space. From the dried blood caked around her nose and mouth, Shai could tell she had been dead for a while. Sitting on the other bed, sobbing and wrapped only in one of the thin hotel sheets, was the man Poppa Clark had once called one of his closest friends. Back then he had been running for assistant District Attorney for Manhattan, but his sights were set on higher offices. When things were moving slow for him in New York, he pulled up stakes and joined the political race in New Jersey. For the last year, Bill O’Connor had occupied the office of Deputy Mayor of Newark.
“What the fuck did you do?” Shai snapped at the quivering man.
“Shai, this wasn’t my fault!” Bill said with a quivering voice.
“So you’re trying to tell me this bitch offed herself?” Shai snapped.
“This is bad… all bad.” Big Doc shook his head in disbelief. “You shouldn’t be here, Shai.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Angelo agreed. “Let’s get the fuck outta here!” He grabbed Shai by the arm and started pushing him towards the door.
“Wait! Don’t leave. I need your help!” Bill jumped off the bed and rushed towards Shai to keep him from leaving. He was stopped when Big Doc dropped him with a punch to the gut.
“Take it easy!” Sol moved between them.
“Fuck do you mean take it easy?” Shai turned angry eyes to Shai. “You’ve got me standing in a hotel room three feet away from a dead body! What the fuck were you thinking calling me here?”
Sol moved closer to Shai and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I was thinking how we could turn this tragedy into an opportunity. Shai, you ever known me to do anything without a seeing the bigger picture?”
“No,” Shai huffed.
“Then hear him out,” Sol urged.
Shai didn’t like it, but he reluctantly agreed. “Okay, what’s the story?” he asked Bill.
“I’m still not sure what happened,” Bill began, trying to stop his voice from shaking. “She’s one of my regular girls. We get together once or twice per week, do a little blow and fuck. There was nothing different about this day.”
“Except I’m guessing your little trysts don’t usually end with her dying,” Shai said sarcastically. “Cut to the chase, so I can go.”
“I usually get the coke from my guy in the city,” Bill continued, “but I was coming in from Philadelphia last night, so I had my driver go into Newark to score in the hood. I know it was stupid, but she was geeking, and this broad turned into a real freak when she was nice and tuned up. We got at it for a while and I go to take a shower. When I come out, she’s on the bed having some type of seizure and foaming at the mouth. I tried to give her CPR, but there was nothing I could do.”
“So why not call the cops instead of Sol?” Shai asked.
“A married deputy mayor found in hotel with drugs and a dead prostitute wouldn’t play out well in the morning paper,” Billy answered sadly.
“That still doesn’t answer my question; what the hell am I doing here?” Shai folded his arms. He knew where it was going, but needed to hear it.
“Well, in this terrible pinch, Bill decided that it was best to reach out to his friends to help him,” Sol answered for him. “What good are friends if you can’t turn to them in times of need?”
Shai laughed. “Friends? Is that what we are now? You know, my dad once called you his friend. I can remember all those years ago, sitting in his office and hearing him say to me, ‘Shai, my friend Bill is going to be instrumental in helping me build my dream casino.’ When he was killed, you turned your back on us and my father’s dream.” He reminded him.
“It wasn’t like that, Shai!” Bill’s voice was pleading. “When Poppa was no longer sitting at the head of the table, the others felt like it was too big of a risk. Tony and those guys didn’t want anything to do with it.”
“But Poppa looked at them as his friends. It was an honor reserved for you,” Shai sneered. “I’m sorry, Bill. I can’t help you. Maybe because of your new standing as Deputy Mayor, the judge will show you lenience.” Shai started for the door.
“Please!” Bill threw himself at Shai’s feet. “I can’t go to prison. If you help me, I’ll give you anything you want! Anything!”
Shai looked down at the man groveling at his feet and frowned. Growing up, he had always looked up to Bill O’Connor as a man of great power and respect. What he was reduced to that day disgusted him. “How the mighty have fallen,” he mumbled. “Get up Bill, you’re embarrassing yourself.”
“I’m sorry, Shai.” Bill pulled himself back onto the bed, wiping his runny nose with the back of his hand.
“I didn’t mean to involve you in any of this shit, truly I didn’t.”
“It’s okay, Bill,” Shai softened his tone. “It’s like Sol said: what good are your friends if you can’t turn to them in times of need? We are friends, aren’t we?”
Bill nodded.
“Good,” Shai smiled wickedly. “Who else knows about this?”
“My driver,” Bill told him.
“And what about the person you got the drugs from? Do you think your driver could point him out?” “I don’t know. I guess so.”
Shai thought for a few minutes. “Okay, Bill. No need to worry. This is what’s going to happen next. You’re going to tell Angelo how to get in contact with your driver, then you’re going to go into the bathroom, clean yourself up and go home.”
“What are you going to do?” Bill asked nervously.
“Better if I spare you the details. Like I said, go home, have a nice dinner with your wife and get some rest. By the time you wake up in the morning, this will all have been a bad dream.”
Bill dropped to his knees and kissed Shai’s hand. “Bless your heart, Shai. I owe you a huge favor for this.”
“You owe me more than a favor, but we can discuss it at a later time. Now go get cleaned up. I need to speak to my people in private.”
Bill nodded sheepishly and went off into the bathroom.
“Well played, Shai,” Sol smiled proudly.
“You set this whole thing up, didn’t you?” Shai accused.
“Not at all
. I simply laid a puzzle in front of you and let you solve it,” Sol said innocently.
“Whatever, you cagey old fuck!” Shai joked, tossing one of Bill’s discarded socks at him. “Big Doc, after I leave I need you to stay behind. Call in a cleanup crew to take care of the mess. Then see the person on duty at the front desk and persuade them to turn a blind eye while we take care of business.”
“Sure. We’ll get rid of her too,” Big Doc said.
“Nah, no civilians. Either bribe her or threaten her; I don’t care which. Just get it done. And make sure they wipe the surveillance tapes between the time Bill came in with the whore and the time I leave.”
“Wait, you’re really going to help this scum bag?” Angelo asked in disbelief. “After that snake shit he did to Poppa, I say let that fucker burn!”
“What he did to Poppa is exactly the reason that Shai isn’t going to leave him twisting in the wind,” Sol spoke up. “Poppa Clark showed us all the advantages of having political allies, but even at the height of his reign, his reach had never extended as far as having a deputy mayor in his pocket.”
A light of recognition went off in Angelo’s eyes. “So you’re going to make him a business partner?”
“After what he did to my father, that piece of shit ain’t fit to sit at our table, but I got a nice spot on reserve for him at my feet,” Shai said with a sinister smile. “Gentlemen, I feel the winds of change starting to blow.”
CHAPTER 11
Tech stood off to the side, smoking a cigarette and watching Shai as he moved through the crowd of guests. From the way people bent over backward to kiss his ass, you’d have thought that he was the President. Hard to believe that just a few years prior, he had been just another spoiled athlete who didn’t know shit about the streets.
He found himself stuck somewhere adoration and repulsion at the new Don of New York. Tech came from a world where you had to earn your stripes, but Shai had inherited his. Tech tried not to feel resentful towards Shai, but he couldn’t help it. Tech had been in the streets for most of his life, laying homies and enemies to rest, and yet he was still trying to claw his way up from the bottom of the barrel while Shai pranced around giving orders to dudes he felt were way more qualified to sit in the big chair. He was by no means a hater, but his young mind still had a hard time processing it. He’d once expressed his feelings to his big homie Castro, and she’d told him he was suffering from growing pains. He had no clue what the fuck it meant, and the only thing she offered in the way of an explanation was that he’d understand it when he was older.