Powder Burn

by Ty Patterson

He grinned in the darkness. Can’t admit to them that was me.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he said as innocently as he could.

  Her loud snort made him chuckle.

  ‘Grogan,’ she said savagely, ‘this call is over—’

  ‘Covarra knew my name. Ask yourself how,’ he said quickly and hung up.

  * * *

  ‘It was Grogan,’ Matteo began when Difiore and Quindica joined the briefing in Dade’s office. ‘We got his prints from his house, the SUV. He left nothing behind, however. Phelan and Joachim reported he was carrying two bags. One was large and another was a backpack. We’re guessing those had his weapons.’

  ‘Any progress at the warehouse?’ Dade asked him.

  ‘No, ma’am. Our street informers have gone to ground. We aren’t getting any intel from them.’

  ‘Do you have any good news, Vance?’

  ‘I have a theory, ma’am,’ he said reluctantly.

  ‘Let’s hear it out.’

  ‘We know Grogan attacked those Street Front warehouses.’ He shrugged at the look on her face. ‘We can’t prove it, ma’am, but it was him, no one else.’

  ‘Get on with it,’ she rapped.

  ‘The gang lost a lot of product in those attacks. What if Grogan stole some of it and was in the warehouse to make a deal with Covarra. Lasko stumbled on them and, before he could alert us, Grogan shot him.’

  Difiore would have lunged forward to protest if Quindica hadn’t squeezed her forearm, hard.

  She turned her blazing eyes on her partner, who mouthed: Not here.

  ‘Find him, prove it, make your case,’ Dade said emotionlessly and dismissed him.

  * * *

  ‘Ma’am,’ Difiore burst out when she and Quindica were with the chief. ‘Cutter dealing drugs?’

  ‘I know.’ The LAPD’s boss was her usual immaculate, composed self. Only the skin stretched tight over her cheekbones and the faintest shadows beneath her eyes spoke of the stress she was under. ‘However, it is Vance’s case. Let him go with it. I’m sure he will find nothing.’

  ‘He called us last night,’ Quindica murmured softly.

  Dade’s eyes opened wide at that. She checked that the door was closed and turned down the blinds in her office to give them more privacy.

  ‘Cutter? What did he say?’

  ‘About being set up,’ Difiore said. ‘We asked him to turn himself in.’

  ‘What went down in the warehouse?’

  ‘I didn’t let him speak.’

  The detective held her breath when the chief stared at her in astonishment. It gave way to a speculative look, which yielded to a small smile.

  ‘You needled him. That will make him more determined to clear himself.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’ she grinned. Lucky for me she worked it out, or else she would have chewed me out.

  ‘He said something else, ma’am.’ Her smile disappeared. ‘He said Covarra knew his name.’

  ‘It’s all over the news …’ Dade trailed off when the implications struck her. ‘That’s now. Not when he met the gangster.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am, and you can bet he would have used a disguise.’

  ‘No one other than the task force knows we suspect Cutter for all those attacks.’ The chief’s lips pressed tight.

  ‘And even then, only a handful of officers know. Matteo, Cruz, Estrada, Lasko, five or six others, all very senior.’

  ‘We’ve got a leak,’ Dade whispered harshly. ‘Vance, Cruz, Estrada, it can’t be any of them. They go through security checks.’ She leaned forward and commanded, ‘Drop this hunt for Cutter. Find the snitch.’

  * * *

  Covarra muted the TV when Salazar entered the living room.

  ‘What’s up, Snake?’ His deputy frowned at the rage on his boss’s face.

  ‘He’s alive. Both of them!’

  ‘Who? Grogan? Yeah, I saw that on the news, he got away from Sylmar—’

  ‘NOT JUST HIM!’ Covarra shrieked. ‘THAT COP IS ALSO ALIVE. IN THE HOSPITAL.’

  ‘He’s in serious condition, boss. He could die any moment.’

  ‘What if he regains consciousness?’

  He nodded when he saw realization flare in Salazar’s eyes, too. ‘LAPD will be even more determined to get me once they know I shot him. They might offer a reward. That might influence some of our men. That cannot happen. Get some men to check out that hospital. We need to kill that cop.’

  ‘Wait.’ He stopped Salazar as his deputy was leaving. ‘Tell our men to look out for Grogan. He knows what happened in that warehouse. He needs to die, too.’

  * * *

  ‘Come to that same place, tonight,’ Cesar said on the call that woke Cutter from his doze in Limon’s cab in Venice.

  ‘Which place?’ He sat up, rubbed his eyes and waggled his fingers at a kid who was licking an ice cream as he went past on the sidewalk.

  ‘That warehouse where you shot Lasko.’

  ‘I didn’t—’ he began automatically and then blinked. ‘You want us to meet there? Cops will be around. It’s a crime scene in case you’ve forgotten.’

  ‘That’s the only place I’ll meet. At eleven pm.’

  What’s with these bangers and their nightly meets, he grumbled to himself.

  ‘I’ll be there,’ he confirmed.

  ‘You’d better be alone.’

  ‘You, too,’ he snapped and hung up.

  * * *

  ‘Nothing has changed to my benefit.’ Janikyan pressed Zohrab’s shoulder briefly in thanks when the bodyguard brought him a drink. He dismissed his man and leaned back on the couch as he crossed his legs. ‘Grogan is still alive. That cop is also alive. Covarra is out there, still in business. How is any of that good for me?’

  ‘I thought Covarra and Grogan would kill each other, or at least one of them would be dead.’

  ‘Why don’t you leave the thinking to me?’ he told him coldly and ignored the man’s sharply drawn breath. He didn’t care if his caller felt offended. ‘Grogan is smart. I told you how he reached me. Went through a real estate agent. See how he took out the Street Front’s places? As for that cop in the hospital—’

  ‘Lasko.’

  ‘Yeah, him. You said he was smart. That you couldn’t risk having him around you for long.’

  ‘He’s in the hospital. He’s not a risk for now.’

  ‘We’ll need to take care of Grogan,’ Janikyan mused. ‘No, don’t talk,’ he said sharply when the caller made to speak. ‘I’ll set a trap for Mr. Grogan. One he won’t walk out of.’

  * * *

  Cutter exchanged Limon’s cab for the Tahoe for the rendezvous with Cesar. He couldn’t risk the red taxi getting noticed in the industrial area.

  He parked the ride in the same spot on Clarence Street and tried many of the trucks parked on the road. He climbed into one whose rear doors opened and slept until it fell dark.

  He yawned and stretched when his inner clock woke him up at seven pm. Got to his feet, peered out cautiously and jumped out when he saw no threat.

  The long bouts of sleep had helped his recovery. His body protested less, though the aches were still there. Can’t complain. I could have been dead.

  He circled the neighborhood on foot, with a ballcap pulled low over his head and his jacket collar high on his neck.

  There were cruisers at the warehouse, and even from a distance he could see uniformed officers moving under the portable floodlights.

  How does Cesar think we can meet here? Maybe he’s testing me, too, to see whether I’m going to turn up alone.

  He checked out the street with his NVGs, night- vision goggles, from underneath a truck. That unit over there has the best view of the warehouse. I can’t go there, though. Cops will see me.

  The building was opposite the warehouse, a tall, white structure. Looks like it has a flat roof.

  That gave him an idea.

  Despite the heightened police presence, there was still traffic through both
streets. Tail lights flared as cars slowed down to look at the warehouse, and from a distance, he could hear voices as people talked to the cops.

  Cutter hugged the walls of buildings, filtering from shadow to shadow, until he came to the structure he had checked out.

  It seemed to be a loading terminal for trucks. Two semis were backed into it, their front cabs gleaming in the night. He went into its large yard and checked out the L-shaped side of the building. Shuttered doors on the short leg where trucks backed up. The other side had a sheer, high wall and nothing else.

  Pipes! There were four of them running down the side. Concrete, he found out when he felt one of them.

  Cutter didn’t waste time. He fastened the gymbag securely around his waist and started climbing. The tubular construction held its position despite the weight on it. He went up swiftly, aware that he was a dark, man-sized beetle on the wall. Any passing vehicle could spot him if they looked high enough.

  No one stopped him, however.

  He hauled himself over the roof, which was flat, with air-conditioning equipment and pipes running across.

  He crouched low and ran to the front of the roof and lay prone on it. Inched forward carefully until he could see over its edge.

  Officers, police tape, cruisers with their lights flashing. No civilians that he could spot through his binos. He had discovered the scene of his rendezvous with Covarra was a movie-shoot location. Street Front owns it, I bet. He reminded himself to message its location to Difiore after meeting Cesar.

  ‘Puto,’ Cesar called him at eleven pm. ‘Where are you?’

  A banger who’s punctual! He grinned in the dark and checked out the shadows on the intersection of the streets.

  ‘I’m stuck in traffic,’ he lied. ‘Are you there?’

  ‘Why else would I call you?’

  ‘Wait for a few—’

  ‘WAIT! THERE ARE COPS HERE.’

  Is that him? Cutter trained the binos on a shadow lurking at the mouth of an unmarked passage on Jesse, away from the presence of the cops.

  The man was leaning against a dark pickup truck, motionless except for his hand motions.

  ‘You picked this spot,’ he retorted. ‘You should have known—’

  ‘WHEN WILL YOU GET HERE?’

  ‘I can’t show up just like that. Have you forgotten I’m a wanted man?’

  ‘And I’m a banger, ese. The risk is the same for both of us.’

  ‘How will I recognize you?’

  ‘Me? Don’t worry about that. I know what you look like. I’ll recognize you.’

  That’s him, against that vehicle. His hand gestures match his words.

  ‘Come to the river. You can cut through the buildings on Mission Street. I’ll be there, next to the rails.’

  ‘Puto.’ Cesar straightened and swore. ‘You never planned to come here, did you? Meeting’s off. I am not going anywhere.’

  ‘Don’t you want to know what went down in that place? How Lasko got shot?’

  ‘I know how. You shot him. Everyone in the Street Front’s talking about nothing else.’

  Everyone? There were several bangers in that place. They saw what went down.

  Cutter’s brow cleared when the explanation came to him. Covarra’s ordered everyone who saw it to stick to the story that I shot Lasko.

  ‘With Lasko out, I’m the only one who can help you.’

  ‘You? A criminal? I can find another cop.’

  ‘Do that.’

  ‘Ten minutes,’ Cesar replied savagely after a while. ‘Be there, or I’ll be gone. You picked a good spot, ese—I’m gonna kill you and throw your body in the river.’

  69

  Cutter followed him with his binos until Cesar turned the corner on Mission Road.

  He seems to be alone.

  He got to his feet and hustled to the edge of the roof. Maneuvered himself to hold the pipe and slithered down fast.

  He slowed to a walk when he came to Jesse and ghosted across the street. Lucky no cops looking for me here.

  He spotted Cesar’s silhouette on Mission and crossed to the other side of the street to follow him. The banger moved quickly, without looking back, and crawled through a hole in a wire fence into an open plot.

  That will go to the river.

  Cutter gave him time to vanish from sight and followed him.

  * * *

  The stink of stale water and urine. Light gleaming dully off the rails that ran along the bank of the river. Debris on the paved surface of the river bed.

  And Cesar, a tall shadow, hunched over his phone, fifty feet away.

  As he got closer, the banger sensed his presence, turned and started drawing his gun out with an oath.

  Cutter dived at him and brought him down, let the weight of his body and luggage rest on the hitter, who jabbed and punched but was ineffectual.

  ‘I could have killed you if I wanted to, when you were on Jesse, against that car.’

  The thug’s mouth gaped at that. ‘You were watching me?’

  ‘Yeah, and I had my gun on you as well.’

  He snatched Cesar’s weapon and got to his feet. Unstrapped his gym bag and laid it on the ground, all the while keeping a cautious eye on the hood.

  ‘You really didn’t shoot Lasko?’ the thug studied him.

  ‘No.’ He sized up the banger in return. Swarthy, thick beard, glittering eyes, loose shirt over low-hanging riders.

  What do I have to lose?

  He told Cesar what had gone down at the rendezvous and couldn’t help chuckling at the man’s rounded eyes and gawping stare.

  ‘You wrapped a suicide belt around yourself, ese?’

  ‘Yeah.’ He wasn’t going to admit that there was no way the explosives would have gone off. ‘What’s the deal between you and Lasko?’

  ‘He saved me.’

  Cutter listened quietly as the banger told him his backstory and about his vengeance mission.

  ‘What will you do if Lasko dies?’

  Cesar side-eyed him. ‘You said you could help me.’

  ‘I will do everything I can.’

  ‘You’d better come through good.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ I told him about Dade … but I’ll probably have to go through Difiore and Quindica. They’ll be able to arrange Federal Witsec for him.

  ‘Lasko said my name?’ the thug asked after a while.

  ‘Yeah. Why do you think he did that? I can’t make out the connection.’

  ‘You asked Snake about his and Fuse’s rifles.’

  ‘Yes, but Lasko wasn’t there then—’ Cutter stopped abruptly as he recollected Covarra yelling and punching at him. ‘He was there, though, when your boss repeated that and hit me.’

  ‘That’s it.’ The banger snapped his fingers.

  ‘What?’

  ‘He knew what I did with the rifles.’

  ‘What did you do?’ Cutter asked him, feeling stupid that he wasn’t connecting the dots.

  ‘I sold Snake and Fuse’s rifles.’

  70

  ‘What do you mean, you sold them?’ Cutter stared at him.

  ‘Just that, ese,’ Cesar said impatiently. ‘Keep up with me. Both of them used AR-15s, but as the gang grew, it wasn’t right they went around with the rifles. They are leaders. Bosses don’t need those weapons. There was no need for them to carry those. Fuse ordered me to get rid of them. I sold them to a dealer.’

  ‘After they killed the women?’

  ‘No!’ the banger scowled at him angrily. ‘Snake told the truth there. We didn’t kill them.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘I was there, ese, at that house. I was shooting back at those Armenian putos. All of us escaped. There were no women, no one else at that house.’

  ‘You didn’t return to that house? No other banger?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did you search the house?’

  ‘Why would we do that, ese? Those bangers were in the yard. We attacked them as soon as we saw them.�
��

  Vienna and Arnedra could have been hiding inside. They could have seen what went down. Were they killed because of that?

  He growled at himself in frustration. He had questions but very few answers. Every time he thought he had made progress, like going after Covarra and getting him to talk, he had setbacks.

  ‘Who did you sell those weapons to?’

  Got to find the men who fired those.

  ‘A dealer. He buys and sells from gangs. He supplies all of us, Armenian putos as well. He’s neutral, doesn’t take sides.’

  ‘Where can I find him?’

  ‘He doesn’t have a store, ese,’ Cesar sneered, ‘he meets you on the street, somewhere away from the cops. He won’t see you. He only does business with people he knows.’

  ‘Set up a meeting for me. Say you want to buy some weapons.’

  ‘He may not have them anymore.’

  ‘He doesn’t,’ Cutter grated, ‘unless he’s the killer himself. He sold them to someone else.’

  ‘He may not remember. All this happened last year.’

  ‘Do you want to help? Do you want to get out of the gang? All you seem to be doing is making excuses.’

  ‘If Snake finds out—’

  ‘You wanted to buy a gun. What’s unusual about that?’

  Cesar nodded after a while and brought out his phone. ‘Barrel doesn’t take calls. He works on messages only.’

  ‘Barrel?’

  ‘That’s what we call him. Tomas Cabal.’

  The thug fired off a message and pocketed his phone. ‘We should go,’ he said. ‘He may not get back to me right away. I’ll let you know when he does.’

  Cesar laughed humorlessly as they walked down the tracks.

  ‘What?’

  ‘This.’ The banger gestured at the two of them. ‘We both are wanted by the cops. Here we are, working together.’

  Cabal responded when they reached Fourth Street.

  ‘Compton Avenue, near Nickerson Gardens.’ Cesar showed him the dealer’s text. ‘You know where it is?’

  ‘Yeah, housing project in Watts.’