Carl Weber's Kingpins (6 page)

Her face rested but her eyes were hard and when his reached hers, they matched. It was her first time ever in an interrogation room but she’d seen movies and read books. Above her the light flickered and she knew that was a tactic they used to make their victims nervous. It wasn’t working. In his hands the detective carried nothing, no folder, no papers. So that let Day know that she was there off of speculation. She smirked.

“Is something funny to you, Ms. Mason?” Detective Avery asked and took a seat on the opposite side of the table.

“Nooope,” Day responded childishly. “How are you today, Detective?”

“I would be better if I didn’t have to deal with scum niggas like you on a day-to-day basis.”

“Ouch.” Day pretended to wince but then came back at him. “I would be better if I didn’t have to see sellouts like you patrolling the streets. Rat. Does it hurt? You know, when they fuck you in the ass?”

“Oh, trust me,” Detective Avery said, “it’s going to hurt much worse when I fuck you in the ass. Now tell me, Ms. Mason, where were you three nights ago?”

“Three nights ago?”

“Come on now, Ms. Mason, I know that inside of that beautiful head of yours you must have a brain that can comprehend the simplest of questions, right?”

“Three nights ago, hmm, let’s see.” Day pretended to think. “Oh, yeah. I went on a date with this lame. His name was Terrance . . . Tommy . . .”

“Tony,” Detective Avery corrected her.

“Tony!” Day snapped her fingers. “That’s it.”

“You went on a date with Antonio Lesley, and now he’s dead and we have reason to believe that it was you who killed him. You were the last person who was seen with him and video footage from that restaurant shows you walking out with him.”

Day knew that was the part where most people incriminated themselves by talking too much, so she sat there quiet for a moment. She knew that there was no way that the detective could know for sure if Tony was dead because his body was in a place that he couldn’t be found. Instead she just cocked her head and squinted her eyes.

“You don’t look too surprised.” He leaned back in his seat. “Why is that?”

“The impression that I got from Tony was that he liked to play around in the streets. A lot of niggas who like to play in the streets end up dead. That doesn’t mean I killed him. You should know that.”

Detective Avery stared at her, slightly irritated that she hadn’t bought his bluff. He tapped his fingers on the table and decided his next course of action. “When is the last time you saw Antonio Lesley? Alive or dead.”

“The last time I saw Tony was when I left that restaurant.”

“Did he take you home?”

“We came and left in two separate cars,” Day lied without missing a beat. She was almost positive that the restaurant didn’t have cameras all the way to the parking lot, and if they did she hoped they were just for show. “You know I would call my lawyer, but I don’t think I need to. Do you have any evidence tying me to the murder besides the fact that he and I went to dinner, you know, something that young people do? Why aren’t you out in the streets trying to figure out who murdered this man? Did he get shot, stabbed? Shit, did he get strangled? And why now all of a sudden is the police department so worried about the death of a black street runner?”

The two connected eyes and Day had the hardest fight within herself to hold the smile threatening to plague her face. She knew he knew why Tony ended up dead. Because he was a snitch, but she wasn’t going to say that. Playing dumb was her best bet.

“You, Ms. Mason,” Detective Avery said and turned his nose up at her, “are full of shit. I can see it in your eyes.”

“That’s cool and everything but I feel like you’re wastin’ my time right now, Detective Amos.”

“Avery!”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Am I being arrested?”

When he didn’t say anything, which she knew he wouldn’t, she stood to her feet and nodded her head at him. “I take that as a no,” she said and swung her long, natural hair over her shoulder as she made her way to the door.

“I’ll be seeing you again,” Detective Avery warned. “Soon.”

“I’m used to niggas stalking me.” Day winked at him not thinking twice to entertain his warning. “So that’s cool.”

The watcher sat inside of the black Escalade and, through tinted windows, eyed him getting into his Mercedes-Benz. Mixed emotions plagued inside but still it was too early to make a move. Yet the time to exact revenge was coming nearer and nearer.

Do it now!
the watcher’s mental screamed.

“No! Not yet. Soon though. Very soon,” the watcher said out loud although nobody was in the vehicle with them.

The watcher had been keeping tabs on David Mason Jr. for the last couple of weeks, taking notice of his habits and the people who he liked to be around, and getting used to his routine. He was interesting, nothing like his cold-hearted father, but still Mason blood ran through him. Which meant he would have to pay.

The sound of running water filled the kitchen and the smell of the roast slow cooking in the Crock-Pot on the counter invaded Angela’s nostrils. She inhaled deeply and listened to her family in the other room having basic chitchat. It was the first time in weeks that they had all been under the same roof together and she wasn’t sure yet if it was a blessing or a curse. After her solo dinner with her husband she had been very standoffish with everyone, including her son. The dinner that night hadn’t even been set up by her; David had put it together. As always, everyone had to be on his time. When he was expected to be on theirs he was a no-show.

She sighed deeply and walked to the island in her kitchen to grab her wineglass and take a sip. She didn’t even know what the name of the wine was; she just knew that it cost $2,000 and in her mind the price made it ten times better. After she guzzled down the glass Angela wiped the corners of her lips and made her way into the dining room. The first sight she saw at the table meant for six was, of course, Davita smiling ear to ear and having a conversation with her father. The next was David Jr. with his head bent down and his eyes on his phone and his fingers moving. She took her seat at the other end of the table and smiled in her son’s direction. Both of her children were a perfect blend of her and her husband, but David Jr. had her smile. He felt his mother’s eyes on him and he looked up at her, returning her smile.

“Hey, Ma, the food smells good,” he said. “Why you always gotta cook, though? Don’t got money for cooks and shit?”

“Watch your mouth,” Angela responded to him, smoothing out the tablecloth in front of her. “And because when my whole family is here I would like my hands to be the ones that prepare the food that you guys eat.”

“Poison,” Day coughed into her hand and King David shot her a look, although it seemed as if he was holding back a laugh.

He wanted them all to have a peaceful dinner and in a sense he wanted to make his absence up to his family. Things weren’t perfect among them and he felt that he had been bringing his cold heart into his home. He and Day had a tight bond but their family consisted of four. However, when it came to Angela he already knew that money was the only thing she cared about at that point in time. He could blame her, but in all actuality it was his fault. During the years that they had been married he had become more and more distant. Not because he wanted to be, but that is what happens when a man builds an empire. He had to put in the work to get to where he needed to be and while he was putting in that work the only comfort Angela had was in the money he gave her to spend. At the time he thought he was making up for him being gone, when what he was really doing was creating a monster.

When it came to David Jr. he didn’t know how to relate to him the way he related to Davita. Ever since David Jr. was little he stayed underneath his mother so his mindset was not entirely his fault. King David would never knock his son for wanting to get his education, but he did not like the fact that he was barely willing to learn about his roots. He didn’t like the fact that he refused to pay homage to the reason he wasn’t just like the people he turned his nose up at. David Jr. needed to understand that if his father hadn’t done everything he had done, illegal or not, they would be living in some two-bedroom apartment in the hood. He wouldn’t have had the privilege to go to all the fancy schools that his mother had sent him to. He wouldn’t have the clothes that he wore, nor would he have been able to drive a different vehicle every year since the day he got his license.

King David sat there tapping his index finger on the tablecloth, and stared at his son and wife making small talk before he decided to cut in. “How has school been, son?”

Shocked, David Jr. stopped talking instantly when he heard his father’s voice. “It’s been good,” David Jr. responded, giving his dad an awkward look. “Why you ask?”

“Just wanna know how my son is,” King David said. “We don’t talk much these days.”

“Yeah, maybe because you’re too busy in the streets being King David.”

“Or maybe because you’re too busy trying not to be David Jr.”

To that David Jr. had no response because he had to admit his father was right. He submerged himself in his studies so as not to be swayed by the street life. The most he had been doing for his father was going in and making sure his counts were right, since his old financial advisor had quit on him. Other than that David Jr. didn’t indulge himself too much in anything that his father had going on.

“The food should be done,” Angela said a little too evenly, and King David could tell that she must have had a couple of glasses of wine to drink.

When she exited he turned his attention back to his son. Across from David Jr. Day had leaned back in her seat, knowing that things were about to get more than just a little bit juicy. David Jr. cleared his throat once his mother was gone and opened his mouth to speak.

“I just want to make my own way,” David Jr. said. “Is that a crime?”

“Yes, it’s a crime, fool,” Day chimed in before her father could say a word. “I don’t know why you’re bustin’ your ass for a job that you only going to make three hundred bands a year for. Nigga, you’re already sittin’ on a gold mine!”

“If I wanted to I could, but I want to do something different with my life.”

“If you wanted to you could?” King David’s eyes had never left his son’s. “You don’t have it in you to take my place.” He smirked at David Jr., taunting him. He was pleased when he saw his son’s expression change and he saw that the insult had done something.

“How do you figure I don’t?”

“Because you’re ungrateful. You have done everything in your power to shun me. You don’t have it in you because wouldn’t do for your family what I have done for mine.”

“I wouldn’t have to.”

“Exactly. I made sure of that.”

Once again David Jr. was at a loss for words. He had no rebuttal and he felt the side of his face grow warm as Day burned a hole into it with her glare.

She couldn’t believe that he kept smiting their father the way that he did. She never understood why he was so withdrawn from the family business. In all their years she had never even seen him look at a gun, let alone touch one. She sneered in his direction and curled her top lip. “Daddy, I don’t even know why you waste your time. This nigga wouldn’t last a day on the streets. Nerdy-ass boy.”

“Just because I don’t tote pistols around like a wallet doesn’t mean I wouldn’t bust one,” David Jr. lied through his teeth, annoyed that his sister had just tried to play him like a punk.

They had both been raised in the same type of environment. It was true to say that David Jr. had never taken a life; however, if it came down to it he would definitely throw hands. After he made his comment he looked back at his father. Something in him said that he had just made a big mistake and when King David spoke he knew he was correct for the assumption.

“Prove it.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” Day instigated. “You sayin’ basically that you’re in school by choice and not because you’re scared of the streets, right? So prove it, college boy.”

King David clasped his hands together but left his index fingers pointed upward at the ceiling. The smirk was still on his face and it was driving David Jr. crazy. Although his mental was screaming for him not to do it, the last thing he needed was his father, the king of St. Louis, thinking he was a little bitch. He didn’t want that rep in the streets and, no matter how much he wanted to walk his own path, he didn’t want to be disowned, especially since he knew he was in his father’s will somewhere.

“A’ight,” he said. “When?”

“Tonight,” King David said without thinking twice. “After dinner you both will ride with me. I had something I was going to call some little niggas to handle, but I have two of my own right in front of me.”

At that moment Angela waltzed back in from the kitchen, carrying trays of food and placing them on the table. She instantly noticed the different type of vibe in the air and when her eyes reached her son’s face she could tell something was off. It held no expression and no emotion. Day, on the other hand, had a smug look on her face, like she had just won the lottery. Shrugging it off, Angela just guessed that Day must have just gotten under his skin again with her words like she always did.

“You scared, huh?” Day laughed at her brother’s discomfort. She could tell that he wished that he’d just kept his mouth shut.

“I ain’t never scared,” David Jr. responded evenly and started to load his plate with food.

“Yeah, right,” Day scoffed while she also piled food on her plate. “You ain’t never put in no work.”

Although she was feeling a buzz, Angela whipped her head to David Jr. “Put in work? What is she talking about?”

“Don’t worry about it, Ma,” David Jr. tried to brush it off. “We are just going to handle some business with Dad after dinner.”

“What?” Angela turned to glare at King David. “My son is not some street thug!”

King David sat there wearing a black Versace button-up that accented his muscular frame. His hair was freshly lined up and the golden Rolex on his wrist gleamed from the chandelier above them. Although he was in his mid-forties he did not have a wrinkle in his smooth brown skin nor did he have a gray hair on his head. He was sitting there looking very delectable; however, that was the last thing on Angela’s mind. At home her husband was just David to her, but that didn’t change the fact that he would murder in cold blood if he had to. Same with Davita. She didn’t want that for David Jr. She wanted something else.

“David Jr.—”

“Wants to prove himself.” King David stared icily into his wife’s eyes, reminding her of the request she made at dinner the other night. “He wants to show us that he isn’t scared of the streets.”

“It is already apparent that he isn’t afraid of them.” Angela’s voice was soft and sharp. “He has you for a father. I don’t understand why you would want to create another monster.”

“You married this monster. No, I’m sorry, I forgot. You married my money,” King David’s deep voice barked. “You want for him to have more shares? Then he needs to prove himself. I love my children but I’m not leaving my empire to a pussy nigga, even if it is my son. Now let’s eat.”

Angela knew that there was nothing else she could say on the topic. Her eyes darted to Day, who instantly looked down at her plate, then to David Jr., who just shook his head at her. She sighed because she knew she was fighting a losing battle. The last thing she needed was for her son to get killed trying to follow in his father’s misguided footsteps. When she looked at her husband, he was still looking at her with a small smile on his face.

“I’m going to get some more wine.” She excused herself, rolling her eyes.

* * *

David Jr. sat on the full-sized bed of his old bedroom, letting his palms smooth out the old blue comforter. He looked around the room and felt a rush of emotion come over him. Growing up in his parents’ house had never been easy for him; he always felt like the black sheep of the family. Yet whenever he was in his room, his own space, everything seemed to make sense to him. That room had provided him peace when he had none. On the walls were posters of many black icons such as Martin Luther King Jr., Malcom X, and President Barack Obama. They always made him feel like he was in the presence of greatness. His eyes wandered to the desktop computer on a desk in the far corner that looked like it hadn’t been used for years.

“Hunh,” a voice said, interrupting his thought process. He looked up and saw that it was his sister in the doorway throwing something at him. “All black. You ready?”

The fabric landed on his lap and David Jr. could see that it was an all-black hoodie. He didn’t hesitate to put it on, and bent down to make sure his black Timberland boots were tied. Looking back up at his sister he saw that she, too, wore an all-black hoodie, thick black leggings, and a pair of all-black Burberry boots.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

The time read just after midnight when the two piled into Day’s all-black Chevy Camaro; and David Jr. was slightly shocked when they pulled off without waiting for their father. He assumed that he must have gone ahead of them. Davita nodded her head to the glove compartment, telling him to open it.

“The burners are in there,” she said and, sure enough, when he opened it there were two chrome .45s staring back at him. He grabbed them and handed one to her. “You don’t even have your own gun, do you, David Jr.?”

“What do I need a gun for?”

Day looked at her brother like he was stupid. “Because you are the son of St. Louis’s kingpin. Nigga, just because Daddy be having all these goons around us all the time don’t mean that you can’t be caught slippin’. The game has changed. These niggas be out here wildin’. When we’re done here keep that gun with you.”

“I’m cool,” he said, placing the gun in his lap.

That irritated Day. She looked at him like she wanted to smack him. She never understood how the two of them were twins. They weren’t the same in any way, and if he weren’t her brother she was positive that she wouldn’t communicate with him at all.

“Are you stupid? Like, why do you gotta act all uppity all the time? You and Mom act like y’all don’t know where y’all come from!”

“She isn’t from the streets. And we weren’t born in the hood, either. In case you forgot.”

On that note Day jerked the car on the side of the interstate and pressed hard on the brakes, causing David Jr. to lurch forward. She turned her whole body to face him and tried hard to fight the urge to punch him in his handsome face.

“These are our roots nigga. Our building blocks. Never forget. You wanna get comfortable and lose everything? I’m out here putting in work for you. That’s what you get for always being under ya mama’s titty instead of being out in the real world like me. You got the skin of a black man, but the mentality of a white mothafucka.”