His new supplier would be arriving in Memphis tonight with the first large shipment of Molly and he still needed to get guns to prepare for the war he would have with their old supplier out of Miami.
Still, sitting in the old den of their ranch home where he and Twist had plotted and schemed for years, he felt a sudden emptiness. Killing his best friend had been his only choice. The man had left him no options.
Twist had held them both back by not seeing the bigger picture of what they could accomplish in Memphis and beyond. Twist was content with what they had accumulated, but not interested in really cornering the market. Twist was the one that everyone liked, the attractive one. Twist had the women, rules and morals that didn’t align with what they were trying to do. The list had been long for years. Don’t sell to teenagers. Don’t set up operations in high schools. Don’t sell to pregnant women. Don’t, don’t, don’t! They were drug dealers for fuck sake. They should not have been worried about the fall out. But Twist had a sense of responsibility that had pushed them into a corner.
So when Cane was approached by his contact in New York, he had to take the offer. And he had to get Twist out of the picture.
Joining up with Ferris made the most sense. Ferris had no rules. All he cared about was winning and getting rich. He wouldn’t hold him back with nonsense or try to reason in a game where there was no reason. True, the sick fuck liked elementary boys and used their first shipment of Molly to desensitize his prey, but the man also delivered results. He had money to back his investments, power to protect him from the cops and juice in the community to sway opinion. Only, now he didn’t see how he needed him. Ferris wanted to be mayor. The investment that Ferris had made with him for the new product would be returned through the campaign in the form of a well-funded pact and long-term revenue. It would make him untouchable in the races. He’d be able to buy air time, bill boards, minimize his need for fundraisers and run on the promise to clean up the department, drugs in the street and protect the children of Memphis.
Cane found that hilarious.
A pedophile was going to clean up Memphis.
But the people bought it hook, line and sinker.
Just like Ferris had said it would happen, it had happened. The guy was a master-strategist. No one was even looking his way right now and he was plotting right under their noses.
Of course the entire Baby Boys situation was a byproduct of the initial plan, which was only to take over the Molly market. No one knew the drugs would kill the children and no one knew how insatiable Ferris’s appetite for that kind of sick shit was. He had gone through four children in a matter of a month, and he seemed to have no conscious about it.
Consequently, neither did Cane.
His biggest concern, as was everyone involved, was not to get caught. So when Agosto got assigned to the high profile case, they knew there would be trouble. Agosto was a fucking boy scout and the guy never let up. Just as Cane had be concerned about, Agosto went straight to Twist about the Molly in the dead kids, and being the soft ass that Twist was, he started digging around and asking questions.
Digging around would only mean that Twist would eventually find out about the deal that he had made with his contact in New York. So the plot thickened quickly for Cane. He bumped up his timeline and got rid of Twist during a nasty altercation, chase and shoot-out. The only loose end in Twist’s murder was his side-piece of ass and best Molly dealer, Roxie, who got away during the shoot-out and had been missing ever since. Sammy, his right hand bodyguard had been charged with scouring the city for her, but hadn’t turned up one damn lead. The girl was a ghost. Her apartment had gone untouched. She hadn’t shown up in any of the places that she normally frequented and no one had seen her. All he could hope for at this point was that she stayed that way. Otherwise, she’d be killed on sight.
Then they had to set up Agosto to get him off the case and off their ass. Agosto had a long history of busting dealers. He had snitches on the street. Eyes everywhere and no real weaknesses outside of his family. They couldn’t buy him and couldn’t deter him from solving the case. Only they knew that just getting him thrown off the case or even off the force wouldn’t be good enough. They’d have to kill him. Otherwise, he’d just help Johnson solve the case.
Johnson was never a real threat to Cane before DeMario’s death. He was hoping for no direct link between any of it. But now, with Ferris freaking out about being called in for questioning, yet another couple of cops would have to be killed. Hopefully, they could get rid of everyone before anyone had an opportunity to put it all together.
After Cane had spoken to Ferris earlier that day, they had gotten together later to discuss just how all of this would take place. The plan sounded solid. Cane originally thought about cutting all of his ties. He wanted to get rid of Ferris and Magnelli too, but there was a hitch. Ferris was not the type of man to get caught with his pants down. He was sure the bastard had concocted a way to make sure that if anything happened to him, the entire operation would be found out. So, instead of having Magnelli and Ferris killed, he opted to just keep them close…for now.
Besides, Magnelli was just a greedy bastard on the DEA Task Force that could smell an opportunity a mile away. He was also in too deep to turn back. In the past, Magnelli had turned his head a hundred times before to let deals happen in the city just as long as his hand was greased. However, when Ferris told Cane that they needed a permanent man inside the police department that he could trust and eventually tap when he became mayor to be the director, Magnelli seemed the perfect choice. He had the credentials, the greed and the spinelessness they needed to make things happen. Also no one could deny that the man had serious issues with his father, problems with managing money and a big ass chip on his shoulder. He sort of reminded him of himself.
Cane hadn’t always been the way that he was now. He honestly had tried to live on the other side of the law, but it never paid. His father had promised him his pharmacy but reneged when he found out that he was selling prescription drugs to the locals. So to pay him back, he had burned the place down using a Molotov cocktail and leaving his father’s battered body inside. It was the first murder he had ever done and he had gotten away with it. From there, it was all downhill.
Now, many years later, about to finally be his own boss - running the city the way he saw fit, and no one was going to stop him.
Tonight would be the end of all of the loose ends and the beginning of his new life.
“Boss, you ready?” His head bodyguard asked, sticking his head through the door. In the hallway, a small team of guards waited in full tactical gear to escort their boss to the meeting between he and the New York contact.
Cane pushed the weight of his heavy body up off the sofa and stood up. “Is everyone in place or what?” he asked, sticking snuff down in the lower jaw of his mouth.
“Yeah, everyone’s ready. Just waiting till you say move,” Sammy answered. He stepped completely into the room and rested his hands in front of him.
Cane picked up his red plastic spit cup off the coffee table and slipped on his John Deere cap. “Move.”
***
The darkness of the Mississippi river was calming after a long day. Peaceful winds cooled the night air and crickets chirped in the thick grass around the edge of the bay. Under a full moon, Cane and his men quietly made it to the dock where the barge with their shipment had arrived on the banks of Arkansas.
The men on the boat quickly unloaded packages labeled produce onto large 18-wheel trucks while Cane and Sammy went to meet with his New York contact.
Two black Yukon Denali trucks were parked near a warehouse near the loading dock. Men stood outside in suits with ear pieces and guns. Escorting the men into the musty dank building, they took strategic places waiting for the meeting to begin.
Cane was quiet and somber tonight. With so much on his mind, he wasn’t his normal arrogant self, which made Sammy nervous and uncomfortable. He watched over his boss, occasio
nally looking around to monitor the men who were monitoring them.
After a few moments of being alone, the door to the warehouse office where opened two tall, muscular, Puerto Rican men in suits stepped out before a well-dressed woman followed. She was average in looks. Black hair and olive skin toned with a large nose set on wide brown eyes. However, it was her demeanor that made her beautiful. In a St. John’s black suit and pearls with heels that made her stand over six feet, she sauntered over to the table wear Cane was sitting.
“Very nice to see you again,” she said, passing off her clutch purse to her bodyguard.
“Yeah, same here, Ms. Santiago,” Cane said, standing up as a sign of his respect for her.
“I gather that since you are here everything is in place?” she sat down and crossed her long shapely legs.
“Yeah, we got everything in place. We got a farm house on the outskirts of town ready to set up and start manufacturing. All we were waiting on was the materials from you. I’ve got girls ready to work, and I’ve got a fucking shit load of orders to fill.”
Ms. Santiago seemed pleased, but her face was hard to read with the long scar down the side of it. It was old, from many years before and ran from her left ear down to her chin. The jet-black bob haircut that she wore hid some of it, but it was absolutely noticeable. Cane thought it made her look even sexier. A serious business woman with a past. He liked that. He liked her.
“And your previous supplier in Miami? Has that been a problem?” Her eyes locked on Cane.
He knitted his meaty fingers together and leaned over on the table. “I’ve got a connection I’m waiting to come through on some guns. But no, I don’t think that will be a problem. My men are ready to battle if it comes to our doorstep, but we are going through with this partnership because you can give me what I need. Those other fucks were loyal to Twist. I don't want nothing to do with them.”
Ms. Santiago cut him off but did so only with one raised finger. “My only concern is that you’ll be able to produce for me, Mr. Cane. We, meaning your organization and mine, have agreed on a quarterly dividend that you have to make good on, otherwise you leave me in a very curious situation.”
“I’ve always made good on my debts on time.” Cane sucked his teeth. “What makes you think I’ll stop now?”
“I’m sure that you won’t. Just let me know in advance if there is push back from Miami. I need to be able to protect my investments.”
Now Cane was just insulted. However, he tried to hide his disdain for her statements considering the fragile nature of their budding relationship. “If there is pushback from Miami, I’ll handle it. I don't’ need Yankees coming down here to my territory trying to fix things for me. It just don’t look right. Like I said, I’m working with someone to get more guns and equipment, just in case there is problem.”
“And this person would be?” she asked with a soft voice.
“Anonymous,” he answered with a tilted head.
Ms. Santiago smiled. “Everyone knows that there is only one organization you can buy from here, Mr. Cane. He’s a son-of-a-bitch isn’t he?”
Cane rolled his eyes. “Yes, he is, but like I said, I’ll handle it.”
Ms. Santiago smiled. “I’m sure that you will, Mr. Cane. I have faith in you. Now, shall we get down to it? As we speak, my men are loading your trucks. Once we have payment, they can drive off and I can fly back to Manhattan.”
“Do you take checks?” Cane asked, as Sammy placed a large container of money on the table and turned it towards Ms. Santiago to open.
She smiled softly. “Unfortunately no.” Her bodyguard opened the case to reveal bundles of hundred dollar bills wrapped and ready for her. She ran her hand over the cash and then sat back in the chair. “It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Cane.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” Cane said, spitting into his cup. “You sure you don’t want to count it?”
Her bodyguard picked up the case and stepped back. As he did so, the machine gun under his coat showed.
Cane looked up at it and narrowed his eyes at the man.
Ms. Santiago offered her manicured hand to Cane and he shook it graciously. Standing up from her chair, she pulled out a cigarette and lit it. “Oh, I trust you, Mr. Cane. Besides, I know where you live.” With an evil smile, she turned on her heels and followed her men out of the warehouse as quickly as she came.
“That was short and sweet,” Cane said, standing up. “Get them boys on the road. I want the supplies at the warehouse in an hour so we can start production.”
“Yes, boss,” Sammy said, following Cane out of the warehouse.
Cane stopped at the door. “And that other thing?” he asked as his truck pulled up with his men waiting for him to load in.
“It’s all going down tonight,” Sammy answered. “That’s why we have you going to the crawfish festival. It’ll be plenty of people there who will see you. You’ll have an alibi.”
“Good. Let’s get this shit done. I’m tired of having to think about it.”
23
Alex’s Tavern was packed to capacity. The little pub buried in the obscurity of homes and businesses on the quiet side of Jackson Avenue played Led Zepplin on the jukebox and was filled with smoke and cigarettes. A mix of college students, on and off duty police officers, couples cuddled up together hiding from their spouses and men watching the baseball game on the flat screen televisions mounted on the wall gave the small place an atmosphere of relaxation.
Downing another beer under dim lights, Johnson went over his notes one more time with Steele, who sat on the other side of their booth eating a burger and fries. They had been chasing ghosts all day. Following up with as many insiders as they could, they tried to track down any cops who could possibly be on the take with local politicians. No one had anything promising. Without any idea if the politician in question was a councilman, commissioner, clerk, state representative, congressman or a hundred other positions, they were walking in the dark.
“Shit,” Johnson said, pushing back from the table. “It just doesn’t add up. My gut tells me that it is Ferris, but why would he want DeMario dead? And he doesn’t roll with cops. No one can put him with anyone.”
Steele pushed her MacBook Air to the side and sighed. “In the past, Ferris has not been a friend of the department. He has proposed cuts to salaries, layoffs, everything short of public executions. Plus, he’s always been after Amway. Everyone knows he’s lobbying for him to be replaced.”
“Yeah, but so has two or three other city councilman,” Johnson answered reluctantly. He rubbed is aching head. “Let’s go through his businesses. Maybe there is something there.”
“The guy owns shit all over town,” Steele said, rolling her neck. Pulling up the Assessor’s website, she put in his name. “He owns a restaurant, some parcels of land, it looks like three child care centers, an apartment complex…”
Johnson stopped her. “He owns child care centers?” The wheels in his mind started to turn quickly.
Steele ran a query on Google and pulled up the website. “Yes, Happyland Daycare Centers. They are for before and after care of school aged children along with toddlers.” She looked over at Johnson and cringed. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“I wonder where his central offices would be located?” Johnson said, finishing his beer.
“His management office is off of Walnut Grove across from the main library,” she said with a glint of hope in her eyes.
Johnson pushed up to the table. “We’d never get the chance to access those files the legal way, Steele. You know that. But if we were to break in tonight and look around for ourselves. We could probably get something.”
Steele shook her head. “I was afraid you would say that, Johnson. It’s illegal. It wouldn’t stand up in court, plus we could lose our badges.”
“We could save lives, Steele. Think about it. What link does the Baby Boys case have to him outside of children? Nothing. Now, he li
ves alone. He’s not married. He’s been accused of being gay.”
“Just because a man is gay doesn’t make him a fucking, murdering pedophile,” Steele protested.
“I agree. But what if he isn’t gay. What if he’s just a pedophile? What if he’s our guy?” Johnson hit the table with this fists. “Steele, we need to do this. If we can find any records that prove that these children all went to Happyland, then we have a reason to legally access his files.”
“Then let’s go and talk to the parents of the victims,” she said, trying to reason with him.
Johnson’s voice strained. “Are you fucking kidding me? He’s been in contact with all of them. They call on him all the time. They think he’s their advocate. They will tip him off. We have to do this quietly.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be moving in with your girlfriend tonight or something?” she asked, hoping that they could do this later and give him time to sleep on his insane idea.
“She can wait. She’s a cop. She gets it. Trust me. But this can’t wait. Every moment that we sit around here holding our dicks, we get closer to losing the opportunity to get this guy.”
“If he’s the one,” she said interjecting doubt. She wouldn’t comment on the holding our dicks statement. In just the few hours that she knew Johnson, she had discovered that he was less than sensitive.
He pushed her further. “Let’s just go and check the place out. It can’t be too hard to get into.”
“What if there is an alarm?”
Johnson smiled. “I’ve got a way to get around that too. We all used to patrol. You can’t tell me that you don’t have a few friends who still walk the beat. One of my boys will have my back. Now, let’s go.”
“I don’t know, Johnson,” Steele said, unconvinced.
Johnson offered his hand. “Trust me, please. I’m telling you that this will work.”
The World in Reverse Page 25
