by Glenn, Roy
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It was late and detectives Kirkland and Richards had gotten a call about a triple murder. They had worked together on drug-related homicides for the last five years and Kirk was just starting to get comfortable enough with him to let him drive. Taking the lead in their investigations was another matter.
When they got the call, Richards was on the phone with his wife. She called to complain about their young sons. Complaining about how much of a handful they were becoming, and with him working so many crazy hours, it felt like she was raising them alone. He was glad to rush her off the phone.
"So what was it this time, Pat?" Kirk asked.
"Matt took apart the toaster."
Kirk laughed. "Why’d he do that?"
"Same reason he takes apart everything, to see how it works," Richards said as he drove.
"Makes sense."
"Yeah; right up to the part where it comes to putting stuff back together. The parts never seem to all get back in there and they never work right after that. Drives Helen crazy."
Kirk laughed but didn’t comment. He’d learned years ago to stay out of his partner’s marriages. Especially since his track record with wives wasn’t stellar.
"How come you never had kids?" Richards asked.
"I’ve been married three times, but I never stay with one long enough to have any."
"Three wives. I gotta say, if this one doesn’t work out, I’m not doing it again."
"I seem to remember sayin’ that too. One thing I learned, you’re married to the badge and after a while, your wife becomes a mistress you sneak and see when the badge allows it. I even tried marrying another cop this last time."
"How’d that work?"
"Lasted eight months. It was worse ’cause she was married to the badge too. Shit, we rarely saw each other and when we did, it was just to have sex."
"Sounds like the perfect marriage to me," Richards laughed.
"Not really, you still have the arguments. Now that we’re divorced, we still have the same sex and we don’t have to argue," Kirk said as they arrived at the scene of the murder.
When they walked in the apartment they were met by Detective Gene Sanchez from the narcotics division. "There they are," Sanchez said and walked them into the room where the bodies were found.
"What you got for us tonight?" Richards asked.
"Three black males murdered execution style. The lab guys saved the bodies for you."
Kirk crouched down next to one of the bodies. His hands were tied behind his back. Richards looked over the other bodies; each had been shot point blank in the back of the head.
"From the looks of it, they were on their knees when they were shot," Sanchez informed them.
"What do you think, Pat?" Kirk asked.
Richards nodded his head. "No sign of forced entry, so the shooters were let in. Judging by the bullet holes in this wall, somebody shot at them. Shooter fired back with superior firepower, I might add."
"You got anything on those guys?" Kirk asked and pointed to where the bodies were found.
"They weren’t on our radar," Sanchez said.
"Anybody canvas the building?" Kirk asked.
"Uniforms."
"And?"
"Nobody saw anything, nobody heard anything. Nobody would even say that there was an operation going on here," Sanchez said.
"Typical," Richards commented.
"Nobody wants to be a snitch," Kirk said.
"There’s been a couple more murders in the last couple of weeks that have the same MO. No forced entry, vic’s were tied up, on their knees and shot in the head," Sanchez told the other detectives.
"Who’s the big player in the game these days?" Kirk asked.
"That would be Bruce Stark."
"Stark," Kirk said and snapped his fingers a few times. "That name rings a bell."
"The Commission," Richards reminded him. Kirk chuckled a little and thought back to the day he and Richards explained the commission and its purpose to Mike Black.
"Do you know a Steven Blake or a Kevin Murdock?" Richards asked that night and handed Black their pictures.
He looked at the pictures and handed them back to Richards. "No, I don’t know either of them. Should I?"
"Their street names are Cash Money and K Murder. You ever hear of them?"
"No."
"What about a guy named Stark or Billy Banner, goes by BB?" Richards continued.
"Never heard of any of them. They sound like cartoon characters to me," Black told the detective.
"Well, they’ve heard of you. In fact they’re so worried that you’re gonna kill them they formed a little group."
"What kind of group?"
"They call themselves The Commission."
"What are they, a rap group or something?"
Kirk remembered how both him and Black had gotten a good laugh at that comment. "No, they’re low-rent drug dealers that used to work for Birdie," Richards said.
"Now him I’ve heard of. Heard they found his body in some river in Jersey," Black taunted that day. "But you answered your own question. If these guys are low-rent drug dealers, I wouldn’t know them or anything about them. Maybe you should talk to Freeze. He keeps up with that kind of shit. It’s like a hobby to him. But since you drove all the way out here to ask me about them, it must be something that you can only ask me."
"That would be correct," Richards said.
Then Black took a step closer to Richards and got in his face, and Kirk thought he was going to have to separate them. "You don’t like me, do you, Detective Richards?" Black asked Richards. "To you, I’m just another arrogant crook who doesn’t deserve the respect Kirk shows me."
"That would be correct," Richards stated plainly.
"That’s why I respect you, Detective Richards, ’cause you don’t like me and you have no problem lettin’ me know that you don’t like me. You’re not like a lot of other cops who smile in my face or try to act tough. You do your job, and I respect you for that."
"Right," Richards said.
"Whatever I can do to help you, Detective Richards?"
"Somebody killed Cash Money in his apartment and K Murder was killed this weekend in a drive-by."
"I don’t know anything about that. I just came back from the Bahamas today. Like I said, Freeze keeps up with that type of shit. So unless you’re tellin’ me that these are the guys that killed my wife, I wouldn’t know anything about them. Why would I?"
"That’s what I asked one of them," Richards said, referring to Bruce Stark.
"What he say?"
"He didn’t have a reason either, but right now he’s sitting behind fifteen guys—"
"Seventeen," Kirk corrected.
"Okay, seventeen guys; waiting for you to come after him."
"So let me get this straight," Black said. "Four baby ballers that I’ve never heard of, are so scared that I’m gonna kill them that they got together to protect themselves against me, but I don’t know them? But now two of them are dead, which says a lot for their security, and they think it’s me that killed them. So now, one of them is so scared of me that he is sittin’ behind a little army waitin’ on me to show up. Is that what you’re tellin’ me?"
By that time it was obvious that Black was fighting back his laughter and so was Kirk.
"I’m sorry, but would you mind tellin’ me what my motive is for doing this?"
"See, I told you he was going to ask you that," Kirk said and dropped his head.
"I’m not out there fightin’ over corners with these kids," Black said. "They play it a little too hard for me. They have no honor or loyalty; shootin’ each other over bullshit. Why would I even be involved with these guys?"
After that Richards cracked a smile. "I was kinda hoping that you could tell us," he finally said. "Since they think it’s all about you, I just thought I’d ask."
"It is not about me, believe that," Black told them that night.
The detectives le
ft this latest murder scene to allow the evidence techs to do their job. On the way down the steps Sanchez told Kirk and Richards about the suspected alliance between Black, Stark and Angelo Collette. "But it’s only a rumor."
"Sometimes rumors are based on fact," Richards said.
"Stark is a regular visitor at Cuisine. And him and Black seem very chummy," Sanchez said.
"But, Collette, that’s the one that concerns me," Kirk said. "Him and Black are old friends and he’s been trying to get a foothold in this part of the Bronx for years."
"Correct," Sanchez said. "Now, for the really big money, do you know who the last player he had in the game was?"
"Who?" Richards asked.
"One Cassandra Sims."
"Black’s wife?" Richards questioned.
"The same," Sanchez confirmed.
"You don’t think this is Black’s work?" Richards asked.
"I don’t think so," Kirk said quickly as they walked to their cars. "Unless there’s something you haven’t told us yet, Gene."
Sanchez shook his head. "Neither do I."
"Black has been off the grid playing legit businessman for a while now," Kirk said.
"I heard that too. And besides, these are little fish," Sanchez added. "Black takes out the top of the food chain." He got in his car and drove off.
Kirk and Richards walked to their car. "That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t have a talk with Stark," Richards said and got behind the wheel.
"No it doesn’t."
CHAPTER TWELVE
Black and Bobby arrived at Luke’s apartment and went inside. It took a while, but a woman finally came and let them in. She asked them to sit down and told them that Luke would be out in a minute. When Luke came into the room, he was on crutches and had a bandage around his thigh. His head was bandaged from the impact with the steering wheel. His arm was in a sling from getting shot in the shoulder.
"Damn," Bobby said when he saw him.
"What’s up, Black? What’s up, Bobby?" Luke said as he eased down in a chair.
"What happened, Luke? Who hit you?" Black asked.
"I don’t know who it was. We had just left the club," Luke began.
"Who? Who’s we?" Black asked.
"Me, Kenny, Duck and Ed. Me and Kenny left in one car, and Duck and Ed was in the car behind us. I looked back and saw a truck hit their car. Then a Ford 350 pulled up behind me and slammed into my rear end. I tried to get away from the truck, but it kept coming. The 350 slammed into us again. That’s when I hit my head on the steering wheel."
"That’s how you fucked up your head?" Bobby asked.
"Yeah," Luke said. "They ran us into a telephone pole. I got out of the car and got shot in the shoulder and caught another in my thigh. I got off a couple of shots," Luke lied. "But they went after Kenny."
"What about Ed and Duck?" Bobby asked.
"They dead too."
"But it was Kenny they wanted. They left you and went after him," Black said.
"I may not have seen who was doin’ the shootin’, but I know who sent them," Luke announced.
"Who?" Bobby asked.
"Cruz Villanueva."
"Who the fuck is that?" Bobby wanted to know.
"He’s Hector’s nephew," Black told him.
"You mean, Hector, you fucked his wife, Hector?"
"Yeah, Bobby, that Hector." Black turned to Luke. "What Cruz got to do with this?"
"Before we left the club, Kenny had words with Cruz. Whatever was said was said, and Kenny put his gun in Cruz’s face."
"You know what it was about?" Black asked.
"Kenny said that Cruz was talkin’ about makin’ a move uptown and wanted Kenny to get down with him. But Kenny wasn’t tryin’ to hear that shit."
"So Cruz had him killed," Bobby said.
"That’s what I think," Luke said.
"Let’s go." Black stood up. "Feel better. Anything you need, you let me know."
When Black and Bobby left Luke’s apartment, they went looking for Cruz. They didn’t know where to find him, but Black knew somebody who might have an idea.
They went to a Salsa bar off of Grand Concourse looking for Eddie Domingas. Black had known Eddie since the days when Black worked for André. Once they were inside, Black took a look around for Eddie but didn’t see him.
"I could use a drink," Bobby said. He went and found a table and then a waitress brought them drinks. While they were drinking, Black saw Eddie come out of the back. Once Black was able to make eye contact with him, Eddie motioned for Black to follow him.
"I’m goin’ to talk to Eddie," Black got up and followed Eddie into the men’s room. When Black left the table three men walked up.
When Black walked in the men’s room, Eddie was standing by the sink. The two men shook hands. Black asked him if he knew anything about what happened to Kenny. Eddie said that he hadn’t heard anything about it.
"I been hearin’ that Cruz is makin’ noises about movin’ uptown. You hear anything about that?"
"That’s all it is, is talk. Cruz thinks your boy Stark is weak."
"He ain’t my boy," Black said.
"The word on the street is that you stand behind him."
"Next time you hear that shit, you tell mutha fuckas that it ain’t true. You know I ain’t no fuckin’ drug dealer, Eddie," Black told Eddie. He knew when he agreed to Angelo’s proposition that this might happen.
"Whether you are or not, that’s the word. I don’t think Cruz will make a move."
"You know where I can find him? Just to talk."
"I’m not sure where he’s livin’ now, but call me tomorrow and I’ll have something for you."
"Thanks, Eddie," Black said and left the men’s room.
Bobby looked up and saw three men standing over him. He put his hand on his gun.
"You’re Bobby Ray, ain’t you?" one of the men asked.
"That’s right," Bobby replied.
The three men sat down at the table.
"I don’t remember askin’ you to join me," Bobby said.
"That’s ’cause I didn’t ask."
"So who are you?" Bobby asked.
"Lex."
As soon as he said his name Bobby knew exactly who he was, and what he wanted. "Do I know you?"
"You know Ivillisa Ortiz?"
"What about her?"
"I’m surprised she never mentioned me to you," Lex said.
"I guess Ivy had other things on her mind," Bobby said and smiled.
Lex was not amused. He banged on the table. "Ivillisa is my woman—and you’re gonna forget you knew her!"
Bobby held up one hand and put his gun on his lap. "Calm down, Lex. If you wanna claim her, she’s all yours, kid."
"I ain’t no fuckin’ kid," Lex shouted and pulled out his gun.
"Everything all right?" Black asked and put the barrel of his gun to the base of Lex’s skull.
Bobby brought his gun up from under the table and stood up. "Yeah, Mike, everything’s fine. Lex here was just explaining that Ivillisa is his woman, and I was about to tell him that I was done with her ass anyway, so he can have her," Bobby said and came around the table. Black took Lex’s gun from him and followed Bobby out.
"You know, there was a time when I would’ve just shot that mutha fucka and wouldn’t have gave a fuck," Black said as him and Bobby got in the car.
"You’re gettin’ old. Shit, we both are. Back in those days, I woulda shot him as soon as he sat down and opened his mouth with that bitch shit," Bobby said and drove away. "You get anything from Eddie?"
"He says the same thing. Cruz wants to make the move uptown, but he won’t ’cause he thinks we back Stark."
"I knew that shit was gonna happen. Soon as Angelo came to you with that shit, I knew this was gonna happen; whether we did shit or not."
"That’s the word. We’re back in the drug business."
"I wouldn’t be surprised if Stark was puttin’ that shit out himself," Bobby speculated. "Makes his po
sition stronger."
"Don’t you think Angelo knew that when he suggested it?"
"You probably right."
"I know I am. This is what fuckin’ Angee wanted all along. ‘You can be a stabilizing influence, Mikey.’ I knew it was a mistake, but what could I do?"
"You couldn’t tell him no; not after all the shit Angelo’s done for you."
"I know."
"So what now?" Bobby asked.
"Eddie said he’d have something on where we can find Cruz tomorrow. So until then, we wait."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Kirk and Richards returned to the scene of the crime and began re-canvassing the building. They had been knocking on doors and then they got a break.
"I’m Detective Richards and this is Detective Kirkland."
"What y’all want?" the woman asked. She was very slender, her eyes were prominent and her hands shook a bit.
"Can we come in?" Kirk asked.
The woman rolled her big eyes and stepped back from the door and led them into the living room. There wasn’t much in the way of furniture in the small apartment. A couch, a small TV that sat on a dining room table and one chair was all there was.
"We’re investigating the murders that happened in the building tonight," Richard said.
"I don’t know nothin’ about it," the woman said and turned up the volume on The Daily Show. "And if I did know something why would I tell you?"
Kirk pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and dropped it on the floor in front of her. "Anything you can tell us would be helpful," Richards said and laughed a little.
When the woman started to reach for the bill, Kirk put his foot on it. "I don’t know who killed them boys," she said.
"What do you know?" Richards asked.
"You know who they were with?" Kirk asked.
"I heard them say they was with PR."
"PR? Who’s that?"
"I don’t know who he is?" she said and pulled on the twenty.
