I caught a quick shower, taking care not to undo with the loofah what little work my spell had done. When I was out, dried and dressed, I put in a call to Rafael Chavez. I briefed him on what I’d found at the factory in Inglewood, and ordered him to put some boots on the ground in the neighborhood to keep an eye on it.
“We should hit it, Domino. Why wait for Papa Danwe to use it on us?” Chavez had juice, but he was still a man.
“Did I mention the wards, Chavez?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Did I mention that I couldn’t even see a couple of them, including the one that almost knocked me into the OC?”
“Yeah, boss, it’s just—”
“That’s what I thought. We send guys in there without knowing what we’re up against, chances are good this war goes hot, on the Haitian’s terms, and our people wind up dead.”
“You’re right, Domino. I just don’t want to give him time to use the fucking thing on us. Whatever it is.”
“Neither do I, Chavez. If I was sure we could take it out without knowing what it is, how it works, how it’s protected, I’d say fuck it and send in the Marines.”
“Okay, D. I can have some theory geeks look at it.”
“Good idea, but make sure everyone knows this is strictly surveillance. No one goes inside that fence, Chavez.”
“Thing is, boss, this is some fucked-up shit. Guys getting squeezed by another outfit, that I can get my head around. Making a move on Crenshaw, trying to push Rashan out, that I can understand. Maybe it’s not exactly business as usual, but yeah, sometimes gangs go to war. We do shit like that, you know? We don’t build the fucking Death Star in the middle of Inglewood.”
It seemed obvious, but Chavez made an important point. The outfits survived by existing on the margins. We got away with a hell of a lot by not attracting attention to ourselves, keeping our heads down well below the veneer of civilization. But we did not, under any circumstances, draw unnecessary attention to ourselves.
The craziest thing about this new development was that Papa Danwe had apparently decided he didn’t care. There would never be one hundred percent agreement on the rules of our thing, but you don’t build a magic cannon in Inglewood. It was so far beyond the pale it would have seemed ridiculous if I hadn’t seen it myself, hadn’t felt the juice Papa Danwe was pumping into it.
It was like the Cosa Nostra deciding to build a battleship in the Hudson River. Apart from the fact that it seemed like a really stupid idea, there could be no doubt that someone wasn’t just changing the rules, they were changing the game.
“I hear you, Chavez. It doesn’t make any sense. Even if you can build it, I don’t see how you can use it. You light the fuse on something like that, this whole party’s over.”
“Unless…” said Chavez, his voice fading out. “Unless you think the party’s already over. Maybe it’s like the nuclear option, chola. You only bring out the nukes when you know it doesn’t really matter anymore.”
“Maybe, but the party isn’t over. It’s not even winding down. Papa Danwe isn’t being threatened. Not by us, not by any of the other outfits. Why go nuclear when life is good?”
“I don’t know, boss. Maybe I’m wrong. Or maybe the Haitian doesn’t see it the same way.”
“Okay, here’s what we do. I’m still not willing to hit that thing until we know what’s going on, but I want you to put a strike team together. Have them standing by. If Papa Danwe tries to go nuclear, we take it out.”
“How big a team you want, boss?”
“Jesus, Chavez, I don’t know. Just some big hitters, bring them in from wherever. And send a few guys to run some tags in there, as close as you can get without blowing the lid off this thing. It won’t do us any good to send in the heavy artillery if they can’t get any juice.”
“Okay, boss, I’ll get it done. You coming down here?”
“Not yet. I’m going to try to get a sit-down with Terrence Cole. I don’t know the guy, really, but I know him better than anyone else in Papa Danwe’s outfit.”
“I don’t know, boss. I don’t like the idea of you sitting down with those cocksuckers. They ought to come to us.”
“Even Nixon went to China, Chavez. This is getting out of hand. If sitting down with Terrence means I can cool this out, I’ll do it.”
“If you say so, boss.”
“Plus, I think he’s into this thing up to his earrings. Maybe I can learn something.”
My next call went to Sonny Kim. The Koreans had come down on our side, but they’d previously had a cordial relationship with Papa Danwe. They shared some of the same ghettos and generally managed to do it without killing each other. I knew Sonny Kim knew Terrence, and he was a good candidate for a go-between.
Kim promised he’d do what he could, and congratulated me on my clearheaded diplomacy in a time of crisis. Ten minutes later, he called back. Terrence Cole would meet me in Hollywood at the same bar where I’d sealed the deal with Kim and Zunin.
Unfortunately, there was no way I’d be able to meet with Terrence and still make my dinner date with Adan. Kim had arranged the sit-down for nine o’clock, and it would probably take an hour or so, plus drive time.
Then there was the whole question of whether I should be going out on a date with my boss’s son when my outfit was at war. I considered it and decided I definitely wanted to see Adan if I could find the time. I’d made all the preparations I could. Sitting around my condo waiting wasn’t going to do anyone any good, and besides, I had to eat. I was also still concerned about the Fred connection. I knew the vampire was involved in the escalating conflict with Papa Danwe, and I was concerned he had plans to somehow use Adan to the Haitian’s advantage. So, really, I’d still be working if I kept my date with him. Sort of.
I decided I could make it work if Adan would agree to a late dinner. I called, and he did. He understood I sometimes had to keep odd hours—he reminded me who his father was, as if I might have forgotten.
I got to the bar at eight-thirty. I’d asked for the sit-down, it was on neutral ground, so I should get there first. Pick my spot, mark my territory, that kind of thing. Terrence was already there, waiting for me at a table in the back. He stood to greet me as I approached.
Terrence was the kind of guy you want to describe in one word. His word was wide. He had a wide forehead, wide-set eyes resting on wide cheekbones, a wide nose, wide mouth and a wide chin. He had no neck to speak of, but his muscular body was wide, too, all the way down to his feet.
Based on this, a person might think the guy had roughly the same shape as a city bus, but he was put together well. His skin was the color of strong coffee, his head was shaved, and all those wide features were pulled together in a round skull that was undeniably handsome, if a little imposing. His body was more or less the same shape as a city bus.
“Glad you could make it, Domino,” he said, as if he had set up the meeting and I was running late. His voice sounded like a city bus would sound if it could talk.
“You, too, Terrence. Hope you didn’t have to wait long.” I offered my hand, and it was swallowed by his bus-size one. We sat down and ordered drinks. When the waitress had come and gone, we toasted our health and got down to business.
I was never a big fan of sit-downs in a situation like this. It always had a certain sting to it, like you want to talk while some guy is holding you down and doing something impolite. Most guys overcompensated for that by talking tough, so there were a lot of hard words flying back and forth without much being said. That got old fast, and with Adan waiting, I didn’t have the time.
“Before we get started, I want to make something real clear. I’m not here to talk you out of anything, Terrence. If Papa Danwe wants a war, we’ll give him one. But I don’t see the profit in it.”
“There isn’t any war, Domino, isn’t going to be any war. No one wants that.”
“I got two dead soldiers and a lifetime supply of road rash says otherwise.”
“We
know about your boys that got themselves hit. Everyone does. What makes you think Papa Danwe had anything to do with it?”
I looked at my watch and stood up. “You sit there and pull your own cock, Terrence. I’m not going to do it for you. I got better things to do, and you’re not really my type.”
Terrence held up his hands, maybe in surrender, maybe to show me he wasn’t pulling anything. “Sit down, Domino. We all just following orders. You know that.”
“That’s all you got? Maybe I’m talking to the wrong guy.”
“It is what it is. All I know is Papa Danwe don’t want a war. The Haitian told me this shit that’s going on, it’s to stop a war.”
“How does any of this stop a war?”
“I don’t know that.” Terrence looked up from his glass and held my gaze. “Your boss tell you everything he’s up to, Domino?”
“So you don’t know what any of this is about?”
Terrence shrugged. “If Papa Danwe knew I was sitting down with you at all, I’d be in that mummy box with your boys.”
“How does Papa Danwe think this is going to go? All the hard-guy bullshit aside, Terrence, if it comes to war we both know who’s going to be left standing.”
“Rashan’s gotta go, Domino.”
I laughed. “Papa Danwe can dream it, but that doesn’t make it real. He doesn’t have the juice to take down Rashan.”
“The way Papa Danwe sees it, it’s him or Rashan. I don’t know why. I don’t know if there is any why. I do know Papa Danwe ain’t stupid. This thing goes a whole lot deeper than you or I can see.”
“It’s not that deep, Terrence. I can see the bottom pretty well. There’s a lot of dead bodies down there, and I’m pretty sure one of them is yours.” I said it like it made me feel bad, even though it didn’t.
“The thing is,” Terrence continued, “it’s not your outfit that’s gotta go. It’s the Turk. Papa Danwe don’t tell me shit, but he made that clear as day.”
I could see where that went, so I didn’t say anything.
Terrence locked eyes with me again. “If your outfit had new leadership, there wouldn’t be no war. Not now, not ever. Papa Danwe would back the right guy, the right person. He’d back you, Domino.”
My first impulse was indignant outrage, but I managed to swallow it. My second impulse was pride, but I put that away, too. My best bet was to play along.
“Let’s say someone in my outfit was willing to stage a coup, Terrence. That brings us back to square one. The Haitian can’t take down Rashan. Neither can anyone in my outfit. No one has the juice.”
“With the right help, you could do it. You can get close. We can give you the opportunity.”
“The opportunity?”
Terrence looked like he might be about to say more, but then he just shook his head. “That’s all I can say, Domino. Truth be told, I don’t know much more than that.”
“It isn’t much, Terrence. The thing is, it’s not just Rashan. If someone did manage to take out the boss, what then? What about the rest of the outfit? You think they’re just going to come along?”
“Yeah, Domino, I do. Everybody gets a bump up the ladder. Everybody gets a promotion. Anything else—what’s done is done.”
As much as I hated to admit it, Terrence was probably right. There was loyalty in the outfit, of a sort, but it only went so far. If you had the juice to make room for yourself at the top, the rank and file would fall in line. Everybody loves a winner.
I shook my head. “Jesus, Terrence. I’m not sure what to do with this. What would you do if you were in my shoes?” I gave him plenty of rope and even wrapped it around his neck for him.
“I’d take my shot, Domino. Didn’t no one ever promise you’d ever get one. If you do, you take it.”
I nodded. “I’m glad you said that, Terrence. You say Rashan’s got to go. I say the Haitian’s gotta go, too.”
Terrence’s eyes got a little wider than they usually were, but the rest of his face remained impassive. He stared at me a long time. If we didn’t both have wards up, I’d have thought he was trying to get in my head. Finally he nodded.
“That might work. Like I said, no one wants a war. Maybe if you’re a boss you think you can stay alive just by being the last nigger to die. I never signed up to take Papa Danwe’s bullet.”
Mob rules—Terrence and I were both working from the same playbook. We couldn’t trust each other, not really, but at least we had a common ground to work from. “So what happens next?”
“I’ll try to keep my boys on our side of the line. You do the same. We buy time. Events have been put in motion, Domino. We can’t change what we can’t change. But we can make sure South Central doesn’t blow up, at least for a while.”
By that, I took Terrence to mean more of my guys were going to get squeezed. That might have pissed me off, but I believed him when he said he didn’t know why Papa Danwe was doing it. It was pretty clear he hadn’t been briefed on the whole plan. If I had to guess, I’d have said he didn’t know much more than I did. If he didn’t know what was going on, there probably wasn’t much he could do about it. But if I got him to stall for me, slow things down where he could, it had been a pretty successful meeting.
“That’s a start, but we also need to share information. We either trust each other in this or we don’t. As a good-faith gesture, I can tell you that the Russians and the Koreans have lined up with us. If your boys decide to step across the line, they’re going to find themselves surrounded.” It was a pretty harmless piece of information to give up. Terrence probably already knew about it. And really, it was more a threat than a good-faith gesture.
Terrence wasn’t impressed. “Papa Danwe told me it would go that way. He didn’t seem too worried about it.”
I shrugged. “I’m just bringing you up to speed, Terrence. Maybe you can do the same for me?”
Terrence looked at me a while, but his expression didn’t change. “What else you want to know?”
“Well, how about Jamal? I know he was hanging out at the Cannibal Club. I know you do, too—though I got to say, I’m not sure how you can tolerate the fucking place. What was your interest in the kid?”
“Ain’t never been to the Cannibal Club. Didn’t know your dead tagger. Don’t know what Papa Danwe wanted with him.”
“I know you were at the club, Terrence. I’ve got a reliable witness puts you there.”
“Not so reliable, I guess, ’cause I never been there, like I told you.”
I searched his face and body language for signs of deceit, but Terrence might as well have been carved from stone. When a good liar decides to lie to you, there’s not a whole lot you can do about it—not without using some juice on him. Still, I knew he was lying and he knew I knew he was lying, so maybe I could figure out from that why he was lying to me anyway. Maybe not. I decided to skip it.
“Okay, you were never at the club, but the vampire was. I know he’s in this—I can put him at one of the scenes. Why does Papa Danwe need a fucking vampire?”
One of Terrence’s eyes twitched a little. Then he shrugged, lifting his wide shoulders and letting them fall. “The vampire is in it, but he don’t work for Papa Danwe.”
“What does that mean? The vampire is an independent? What’s his interest in this?”
Terrence shrugged again. “Never met the cat, myself.”
“Or maybe you’re saying the vampire is working for someone else? Is there another player?”
“Maybe. I think I said Papa Danwe ain’t stupid.”
“Who is it, Terrence?” I knew he wouldn’t tell me even if he knew, and I got the feeling he didn’t.
“It’s a dangerous world we living in, Domino. Everyone’s got to have friends. You got the Russians and the Koreans. I guess Papa Danwe got someone behind him, too.”
It wasn’t any kind of answer. Even with another outfit behind him, the Haitian wouldn’t have the juice to take down Rashan. And even if he did, he wouldn’t be likely to surv
ive the war and enjoy the fruits of victory. But it certainly made things more complicated—assuming Terrence wasn’t making all this up as he went along.
“So if our bosses are out of the picture, like we said, what about Papa Danwe’s friends? Will they come along?”
Terrence didn’t say anything—he didn’t even shrug—and I realized he had no idea who the other player was. I was sure of it, and it was actually very useful information. I knew the handful of small-time outfits that were friendly with Papa Danwe. If one of them was the third party, Terrence would know about it. Since he didn’t, it wasn’t. If none of the other outfits were backing the Haitian, maybe they’d line up with us. But if it wasn’t one of the usual suspects…who did that leave?
“Okay, Terrence. We’re not going to be able to control this situation unless we know what the situation is.” Terrence nodded.
“So we try to back this thing up, as much as we can, and we try to figure out what the play is. I don’t know about you, but I don’t like being a pawn in someone else’s game.”
Terrence nodded and raised his glass. “I’d rather be the motherfucking king. Peace, Domino.”
“Peace,” I said, and touched his glass. I finished my drink in one long swallow and stood up.
“You in a hurry, girl?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I got a date.”
“I sat down with Terrence Cole.” I was on the cell with Chavez as I drove to Brentwood to meet Adan.
“Did he say anything?”
“He suggested I could make this all go away if I just took down Rashan.”
“Doesn’t seem like a good career move, chola.”
Mob Rules Page 9
