The Other Side of Bad (The Tucker Novels)

by R. O. Barton

  “I don’t want to be out late. I have something to attend to.”

  He made a turn that would take us back to the apartment . . . and Margie.

  “Speaking of business, how would you like to make 10,000 dollars in just a few days?”

  I hadn’t seen this coming.

  “Doing what?”

  “Same thing you’re doing now, just on a larger scale.”

  “Larger scale, larger risk,” I said.

  “Tucker, what if I told you there would be no risk, no risk at all of being busted?”

  “No risk of being busted? How’s that work?”

  “I’m a cop, remember.”

  “I don’t know, Robby,” I said, looking out the window, thinking what I could do with ten grand. Hell, if I didn’t do it, someone else would. Anyway, pot was going to be legalized any day now.

  “If there’s no risk of being busted, why do you need me?”

  “Protection.”

  This didn’t sound good.

  “From what?”

  “We need to protect the money on the way down and the shipment on the way back.”

  “From what?” I asked again.

  He pulled into my apartment complex and parked behind my car. He shut off the motor, turned to me and smiled. It was hard to believe this charming guy had been the same guy in that bar.

  “Look,” he said, “This is a foolproof deal, that is, concerning the cops. These days we’re more worried about being hijacked.”

  “Hijacked?” I said, “By who?”

  “This is a tight operation. I can’t tell you about it until I know you’re in. Why don’t you think about it. Talk it over with your old lady and let me know in a couple of days.”

  I got out of the car and as I walked around to my apartment door, he rolled down the window of his squad car, and said, “Tucker, thanks for tonight, you’re a cool fucker Tucker. I trust you, I know you can do this. It will be a walk in the park compared to tonight.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I said, shooting him with my finger gun before letting myself in.

  Chapter 30

  Nashville, Carr’s Mansion-3:30 PM

  “Yeah, I went with him one night when he had a chat with a guy.”

  From their meaningful glances, I deduced Robby Gray had been extremely forthcoming in his explanation of ‘chatting’.

  Frank LeCompte reached over and put the ash from his cigar in the ashtray on the desk and said, “He did warm up to talking about the past, after a few drinks.”

  “You said Darvoyce killed himself?”

  “That’s right.”

  “That’s strange,” I said. “Darvoyce didn’t seem to have the guts to do something like that. I remember hearing when they came to arrest him, he hid in the attic of his house and after they found him, refused to come down. Someone had to go up and get him. He didn’t even have a gun. Just kept yelling he was the commissioner and everybody had to leave his house.”

  “Yeah, he told me about it,” LeCompte said. “Said it happened just about like that.”

  “Does that sound like someone who would kill himself while waiting to go to trial?” I said.

  Carr leaned back in his chair, smoke wafted out of his mouth, and said, “Maybe he didn’t think he could handle jail. After all he was the commissioner of Public Safety. That’s like the biggest cop there is.”

  “Or maybe someone else didn’t think he could handle the trial,” I said, etching the condensation on my glass with my finger.

  LeCompte’s head swiveled slowly, first looking at Carr, then at me, “You think Gray killed him?”

  I said, “He could have done it, he’s more than capable. It could have been him or one or two other men I know. But, of them all, Gray would be the one. With Darvoyce gone, there would be no one to testify as to who actually went on those runs.”

  Carr leaned forward across his desk, his elbows supporting him, and said, “The same could be said about you.”

  I just looked at Carr.

  After a moment of silence he said, “I know you didn’t.”

  “How could you know that?” I said, enjoying the cigar aroma.

  He patted the stack of files, smiled and said, “Call it instinct. And there’s nothing in here that suggests you would murder someone.”

  I was beginning to get annoyed with those files.

  “Seems like a lot,” I said.

  “What?” Carr asked.

  “Of paper,” I said, nodding towards the stack.

  “You’ve done a lot of living, met a lot of people. They remembered you.”

  “Why go to all the trouble?”

  “Let’s just say, I was intrigued,” he said, getting up to fix another drink. He didn’t act like he’d had anything to drink at all.

  “You don’t get out much, do you?” I said, then immediately regretted it. I remembered some of the things I did to distract myself from dealing with grief.

  Before I could decide if I needed to formulate a proper apology, LeCompte blew a large cloud of smoke between us and said, “Gray also told me an interesting story about your first run to Mexico. He said it got sticky and you unstuck it.”

  As Carr was starting to sort through and arrange some of the stack, he said, “Why don’t you tell us about it?”

  I had no intention of telling him anything. What I wanted to know was what he knew. And by the way he was organizing, searching, and thumbing through the papers, I figured he was looking for Robby’s version.

  “Why don’t you read me what Robby said, and I’ll tell you if it is accurate or not.”

  Carr stopped all movement for a moment. I watched his face change from a confused, ‘I don’t do that’ expression to an acquiescent, ‘this might be fun’, grin.

  He found what he was looking for. After separating a one-inch stack and setting it before him, he said, “Okay, here Gray starts by saying…”

  As he began reading Robby’s account, the doors to that particular baggage car opened, and without warning, my past galed over me.

  Chapter 31

  Shreveport, La. 1972

  “$10,000!” Margie screamed. “$10,000!”

  “That’s right. He said I could make it in just a few days.”

  “Who do you have to kill,” she said, jokingly.

  When I didn’t laugh, she froze. I figured if she thought I had to whack somebody, then found out it was just a drug run, she might go along easier.

  I let her stew for a moment, then laughed and said, “Gotchya. It’s just a drug run, don’t worry.”

  I had waited until after we’d made love, and she was still in ‘post coital glow,’ before bringing it up.

  She seemed to relax a little.

  “I don’t know, baby,” she said. “For ten grand, it has to be dangerous or a big load or both.”

  That’s what I thought, too.

  “Naw, he said it was a sure thing. Robby’s not going to take a chance on getting busted, he’s a cop, for Christ’s sake.”

  She got up off the bed and walked naked to the closet. Seeing her walk away always raised something in me.

  “Why don’t you come back here,” I said.

  She turned around and looked at me. I had the sheet pulled up to my chin.

  “You look like a guy sticking his head out of a pup tent,” she said, laughing.

  I grinned at her.

  “God, I love you,” she said. “But, we need to talk about this, now.”

  “Come’re,” I said softly. It usually worked.

  She reached into the closet, pulled out a robe and put it on.

  “Get some clothes on sex fiend, and come into the kitchen. I’m going to open some wine.”

  As she walked out the door, she turned and found me standing next to the bed.

  “Don’t think this is easy for me,” she, smiling passionately. “Cover that thing up before you come into the kitchen.”

  When she smiled like that, a mist seemed to cover her face,
blurring it just a little. Like a photographer would do to a picture to make it sexier. It always made it hard . . . to breathe.

  So, in the kitchen over a glass of wine, we decided that making $10,000 to do the same thing I was doing for a lot less, and doing it with a cop, was a reasonable risk. I had never been arrested for anything. The worst case scenario was that I got busted and got off easy, first offense and all. Besides, it was going to be legalized any day now.

  I called Robby that same night and told him I was in.

  The next day, he came by Sawbuck’s. He walked in with another man. They were both in uniform. Robby in his cop attire, and the other guy was a fireman.

  “Tucker, this is Phil, Phil Blackman,” he said.

  Phil Blackman was of medium build and looks. Medium length black hair, small black mustache, brown eyes. Very congenial type guy…right.

  We shook hands, sizing each other up. It was almost intimate. He had a strong grip, not one of those guys that tried to break your hand, just a naturally strong guy. He was looking hard into my eyes, trying to see me.

  “Good to meet you, Phil,” I said.

  “You too, Tucker,” he said. “Robby told me about last night, sounded like a real rodeo. Sorry I missed it.”

  He was so soft-spoken, he almost whispered.

  “Phil and I grew up together,” Robby said.

  Well, that said it all. I didn’t have to worry about trusting Phil. Right?

  He was almost the opposite of Robby. Where Robby looked and acted like a joker, this guy was all serious and unsmiling. But underneath, I could feel the same dangerous ripple that came off of Robby Gray.

  “Can you get away so we can talk? I’m sure you have some questions,” Robby said.

  I looked at my watch and said, “Yeah, I’ll take an early lunch.”

  We walked across the street to a popular meat and three called Sylvia’s. Being too early for the lunch crowd to show up, it was almost empty. It was the only time you could eat there when it was quiet and they still had all the victuals on the specials.

  We picked a booth well away from any ears. After ordering and the waitress left I said, “Okay, what’s the deal?”

  Robby looked over at Phil. Phil leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. Robby was going to do the talking.

  “Okay, Tucker, I’m going to tell you some of it. What I won’t tell you now is who we’re working for. Just know it’s someone powerful enough that we don’t have to worry about being busted.”

  “Okay,” I said. “ I believe you, we don’t have to worry about getting popped. Last night you said something about hijackers, so I guess that’s the problem.”

  “Right,” Robby said, surveying the room.

  “Listen, Tucker, like I said last night, this is a tight operation. There are as few people involved as possible. We try and keep a lid on the plans right down to the time we leave. Our problem, yours and ours,” he said pointing to himself and Phil, “is leaks.”

  “Leaks?”

  “Yeah. We’re not worried about us, it’s who’s above us. We have no control over our boss and anyone he’s dealing with. He’s powerful, but sometimes I don’t think he’s dealing from a full deck.”

  “Sounds like a politician,” I said.

  Phil sat up a little straighter.

  “I told you he was no dummy,” Gray said.

  Score one for the shot in the dark.

  “Anyway, as I was saying, it’s the hijackers. We used to have two teams to make these runs. We would take turns going down. On the last run the other team was hijacked on the way down, and they lost the money.”

  “How much money?” I asked.

  “A whole piss pot full,” Phil spoke for the first time.

  “Maybe it was an inside job,” I said. “Maybe they took the money and made up the part about the hijacking.”

  “Yeah, well, they didn’t make up the part about being dead,” Phil said.

  A regular Mr. Sunshine.

  “Well, that would tend to add credibility to their story,” I said.

  Robby laughed out loud, but Sunshine Phil didn’t like it.

  Robby quickly added, “That’s why I got the okay to recruit you. I’ve been thinking about it for a couple of months, but needed to get to know you better before bringing it up.”

  “So, how long ago did this hijacking occur?” I asked, looking around, wondering if paranoia was contagious.

  “Four months ago. There’s usually a run every three months, but there’s been a delay while we...ah, acquire the capital for another one.”

  Phil actually laughed. It wasn’t nice.

  “We plan on taking two cars down. One to carry the money and the other trailing behind. If the money car is hijacked, the trailer car comes in, and we got’em in a cross fire. You and I will be in the money car, Phil and another guy you’ll meet later, will be in the trailer. They’ll have a sniper rifle and an M-14.”

  “How about some hand grenades and a bazooka,” I said.

  Mr. Sunshine didn’t like this. He leaned over the table and when his face was about halfway across he said, “Look, smart ass, those two who got killed were friends of mine, so, just shut the fuck up and do what you’re told.”

  He was turning red.

  I raised my eyebrows and looked at Robby. He just sat there smiling at me.

  I leaned over until my face was about an inch from Phil’s, smiled and said,

  “I’m sorry about your friends, Phil, and I am somewhat of a smart ass. But, if you and I are going to work together, we’re gonna have to learn to get along. Now, Robby said you two grew up together. That along with the fact he trusts you to go on these runs tells me a lot. I don’t know what Robby’s told you about me. But has he said anything, anything at all, that leads you to believe you can talk to me like that?”

  “I ain’t afraid of you, Tucker,” he said between clinched teeth.

  “Now, what reason would you have to be afraid of me, Phil?” I said, still smiling, while thinking about putting a thumb in one of his eyes. “We just met.”

  “Phil, don’t push him,” Robby said, putting a hand on Phil’s shoulder and pulling him back against the rest.

  “He’s just a fuckin’ kid,” Phil said.

  At 22, I was six or seven years younger than Phil.

  “Now, I didn’t make fun of you for being a big bad fireman, did I?” I said, sounding hurt.

  While Phil was getting pissed off about that, Gray said, “Phil, make nice, can’t you see Tucker’s making nice with you? Even if you can’t, I can…understand?”

  Phil looked at Robby, then back at me, he decided to stay quiet

  “Don’t worry Tucker, Phil will be all right. Besides, you two won’t have to be together most of the trip.”

  Just as I leaned back, the waitress brought our food. We started talking about hunting and fishing. Phil’s attitude changed within a few minutes, and he was almost congenial. He must get low blood sugar. I’d have to remember that.

  Chapter 32

  A few days later

  After a hot weekend of Margie making sure I wouldn’t miss her for a few days, I left the following Monday. She looked worried as I loaded my .45 and an old Winchester Model 12 pump shotgun I’d bought from an elderly black woman in Natchitoches. I packed two extra magazines ,a hundred rounds of .45’s and a box of shotgun shells into a small Wilson gym bag that had a broken zipper.

  “Tuck,” she said, worry etched over her gorgeous face, “Do you think you’re going to need any of that?”

  “No, Baby, of course not. I just don’t want to look unprepared.”

  Robby was outside honking the horn.

  Margie came to the door where I had my gear and a small duffel piled up. It looked like I was going on a hunting trip, except there was nothing in season.

  She hugged me and gave me a long wet kiss.

  She said, “I love you for lying.”

  “I love you, too. Don’t worry, I’ll call
you when we get there, and again on the way back. And, I wasn’t lying to you.”

  “You think they’ll let you?”

  “They won’t have any say on the matter. You’re everything to me. I don’t want you here worrying about nothing,” I said, hoping the ‘about nothing’ part was true.

  “I’ll just stay inside while you go, okay?”

  “Sure, Babe. Just think of it like a little hunting trip. I’ll be back before you know it.”

  She held my face in her hands. Our eyes were locked, as I said, “I know you will. Take care of Robby.”

  I knew she meant, ‘take care of yourself,’ but saying that would have brought the danger too close. It was safer someplace else.

  Earlier, Robby told me the money would be in the trunk of a white ’68 Chevy Impala he’d pick me up in. A very nondescript car. I still didn’t know how much money he was talking about.

  He honked again.

  After kissing Margie again, I went outside and threw my duffel and gym bag on the back seat, then laid the shotgun under a blanket that was on the floor behind the front seat. The broken gym bag was cracked open. Robby looked in and saw the ammo.

  “You expecting a war?” he asked, from behind the wheel.

  I sat down in the front seat, pulled the .45 out from behind my back and put it under a road atlas on the seat between us.

  I said, “After hearing you talk about getting them in a crossfire, I didn’t want to get caught needing and not having.”

  “That’s cool,” he said, his eyes tightening with thought.

  “Where’s Phil and the other guy?” I asked, looking out the back window.

  “They’ll be behind us.”

  “What kind of car?”

  “See how long it takes you to spot them.”

  “Oh boy, a road game,” I said clapping my hands and bouncing in my seat. I didn’t look behind us again.

  He laughed and back-handed me on the chest with his right hand.

  I hadn’t been told anything but what day we were leaving. I had only been told that on Saturday. Not the time of day, or where we were going, or how much grass we were buying. I was pretty much flying in the dark without instruments.