Carlito's Way: Rise to Power (12 page)

“He’s your brother, Earl.”

“I sent him back home, him and his two punks. He can’t cut it—the slot is too big for him, he gags on it. The
power is too much for him—I knew it in front but like he’s my bro and I was hoping. Now I got to worry about these niggers robbing me when I ain’t around.”

“Reggie would have robbed you, Earl.”

“I know that. I figure Lloyd is the man to run my thing. What do you think?”

“That’s the man. Good business mind and bad on the street. But he’s a gentleman moving around people; I dug him—he got style—good spender—rap with anybody— that’s your man.”

“What about you, Carlito?”

“Me? Shit, you crazy, Earl. I can’t deal with them digits every day—bad numbers, runners robbing you, all that bookkeeping every day—I’d go crazy. Nah, that ain’t my stick.”

“Well, how about fronting for me? Lloyd can do the figures.”

“That time is long gone, Earl. I’d have to kill me a spook every day. Look around you right here, some brother’ll be bad-eyeing me. No good, you and me come up at a different time—these guys today don’t want to hear that shit. I don’t blame them. But Lloyd got to know that I’m with him a hundred percent; when they come to lean on him—and you know they got to try—he won’t have to look around; I’ll be there.”

“I know that, Chas, I also know you boys’ll be making your twice-yearly soon. Hip up, turkey, Uncle Sam wants you, and you gonna train in Atlanta, say twenty years.”

“How you sound, colored boy?”

“I ain’t jiving, Carlito, the handwriting’s on the toilet wall. They ain’t gonna let you out. Are you blind? These dudes is putting people on the moon; do you think they can’t put the junk boys out of business? Where is your mental?”

“You know me, Earl; clean, baby, clean.”

“You always was a crazy Po’Rican—I’m splitting for good soon, you know where to reach me in Saint Croix. If you ever need a job reference or somethin’ that’s where I’m at. Now get out my face.”

And Earl was gone—and with a bundle. Was it possible for a hustler to make it and not pay his dues? I mean I heard about dudes running big joints like hotels and class restaurants in Miami and Vegas who made their bread racketeering but I never knew one close up. But here was Earl scuffling alongside me for twenty years— did time, been stabbed, been shot—come through all that and come out the other side with big bucks and retire clean. Unreal. Maybe that’s the ticket for me too? Who you jiving? Shit, can’t even be out of New York two weeks I go crazy. Some people get down on somethin’ they want to go to the mountains or the woods—not me. I jump in my short—up the highway to 96th Street, then I cut through Harlem—junkies, whores, noise, fightin’, garbage, fire escapes—that’s me, that’s reality. That’s how I charge up again—clear my head, dig myself.

You ain’t going nowhere, Carlito. You got people depending on you to live, people looking up to you, and like when you walk into a joint—no noise, cool, but everybody knows you’re there. Carlito,
un bravo
. Right
now, that’s all there is. I don’t understand living in the future—like Earl, doing this to get ready for that—who knows what’s waiting on the corner? Could be an elephant gonna step on your back or a bullet up yo’ ass. Stay loose, Carlito.

I don’t put nothing in writing and the phone company has put more people in jail than cops, so I figured I’d heard the last of Earl. Lloyd Simpkins was a serious cat, I knew he could keep the thing together for Earl. Then Rocco sent for me. We met at a joint near La Guardia. First he gimme the good news—told me to get ready, that some big shipment was coming in and Vinnie would be around to see me. Then he gimme the bad news. “Something very bad is happening, Carlito. Someone put the snatch on Petey Amadeo’s kid, Paul. They had him for two days. The old man put up a hundred thousand to get him back.”

“What?”

“That’s not the half of it. They were spades. Amadeo is a bug by nature but now he’s going around biting himself—he brought in some old Sicilian who is supposed to keep a guy alive on a meat hook for days. And he sent for Nacho Reyes to come up from Miami. He doesn’t want anyone to know. He wants to grab everybody at the same time.”

“He’s got a line on the guys, Rocco?”

“Yeah, the way I hear it—and I’m not supposed to know anything about this—but you’re involved and I don’t want you or Earl hurt—”

“What the hell you talking about?”

“Mr. A figures like this: his kid was snatched in front of his house; he’d just moved in—the only people that knew this were the people at my kid’s christening. Now who was there? All wops except two spades and you— so he had Reggie checked out and Reggie fits right in with his two boys from Philly, Alfonso Lee and a guy called Shad.”

“Well, that’s his three right there.”

“You don’t know his mind, Charles. He figures Earl masterminded the whole scheme and since you’re his boy, you’re in on it too, and if you’re not, then you go anyway so you won’t get mad about Earl being taken out.”

“Jesus Christ!”

“He’s going to sweep all the pieces off the board.”

“Hold the fuckin’ phone! Rocco, what are we gonna do?”

“This Reggie and his two punks have to be buried— then we have a roundtable on you and Earl.”

“Your uncle can do it, Rocco?”

“My uncle can do it, Carlito. The question is will he let us off the hook? Besides, my uncle is a very sick man.”

“Us, Rocco?”

“Yeah, I’m in the jackpot too. Amadeo hates my guts—for many reasons. I’ve come up with a ready-made hook in my uncle. I’ve tried to use some finesse and my brains. I’ve tried to open up for the new groups, the Latins and the Blacks. Amadeo can’t see this, he’s a terrorist— with him it’s kill and kill again. His solution to everything is a hit. So this beef now about his kid being snatched,
when all are dead and buried he’s going to blame the whole mess on me—I’m the one who opened up to the spics and niggers, I’m the one who is breaking with tradition—I’ll be hit.”

“That motherfucker! Let’s whack him out first, Rocco—he bleeds! Then we check out.”

“Use your head, Carlito; for once think with your head instead of your balls. Where would I go, where would I hide, some banana republic? I’ll ride it out right here, and if not, so be it.”

“Yeah, guess you’re right, Rocco. Only the Cubans can run away—one place is as good as another to them. But if a P.R. jumps bail in Brooklyn, he runs away to the Bronx, and if a wop is deported he goes crazy. There’s nothin’ shakin’ outside the U.S.A. You right.”

“This is the way we’ll deal: you will get to Nacho and his crew right away; you will con him that you got a good line on Reggie and that you’re expecting word any minute—that will keep him off your back awhile. After Reggie is iced, Nacho will double back for you, but you’ll be ready. By that time, my uncle can step in.”

A
ND THAT’S THE WAY WE DEALT THE HAND
. I
COLLECTED
all of my boys, including some who was like retired. Got all the hardware together and called for a meet with Nacho. He showed up in Harlem with two carloads of crazy Cubans (most of them dead now). They had pistols, sawed-off shotguns, and even hand grenades. All veterans from the Cuban shoot-outs, these kids didn’t
give a shit about nothin’. But my boys was all bad gangbusters too. There was no cause to rumble; I wanted to show Nacho I was talking from muscle, then I’d jive him Cuban-style. “
Mi hermano, mi par’na Nacho
. We must work together. We are after the three
niches
too. I know you’re ready to do up Harlem and Bedford-Stuy to find them, but that ain’t into nothin’. You can blow up all the black after-hours joints and you ain’t gonna find them—you don’t know what Reggie looks like, your
pistoleros
don’t even speak English.
Ten calma
, Nacho, I’m expecting word any day now—I spread big bucks around with the
chibas
, then we grab all three.
Como te cae
, eh—you get first crack since you’re the
echao pa’lante
.” He dug it.

Then I got to Lloyd. “What the fuck I care if Reggie ripped off a couple of wops, Carlito? Ain’t no skin off my ass.”

“I’m gonna tell you one time, Lloyd, and you will believe me. The wops say me and Earl put Reggie up to the snatch. You’re gonna say Earl ain’t here. But when Earl hears they’re gonna kill his brother he’s gonna be here, and it’s gonna be a bad motherfucker—won’t be no tendin’ to business. You and your boys gonna have to be in a war, and when the dust settles maybe Earl won’t want to leave again and you got to get out that chair you’re so comfortable in—and over who? Reggie? I know you’d piss on his grave in a minute, Lloyd. You gonna bleed over that motherfucker Reggie? You better give him up, Lloyd, he is a dead-ass, don’t let’s get weighed down with him. And what about me, Lloyd?
When they come for me you know I got to tell them where Earl is; they got a guy put you on a meat hook for days—you think they ain’t gonna go down there and get Earl? There’s only one way, Lloyd, and that’s me coming up with Reggie in front: that’ll show ’em that me and Earl was clean, that Reggie is an outlaw. You can find Reggie, Lloyd, you the only one can do this thing.”

“What is Earl gonna say when he finds out I gave up his brother?”

“He’s not gonna find out, Lloyd, no way—Nacho’s got the contract. Since when you dealin’ with the Cubans? You think I want Earl to know I put Reggie in the soup?”

“You comin’ on too strong, Carlito, I need time to think.”

“I’m thinking maybe you see both Reggie and Earl getting washed behind this thing and you walk away with all the fig newtons. If that’s what you’re thinking, Lloyd, I’ll blow your motherfuckin’ head off right here. Don’t fuck with me, Lloyd; my balls is in the wringer and you turning the handle.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Do it, brother.”

Alfonso and Shad were grabbed in Newark. Nacho and his boys delivered them to Amadeo on Long Island. Nacho told me this old Italian guy hung them on meat hooks in a walk-in freezer. Nacho said it was the worst scene he’d ever. From Nacho I believe it. Lloyd found out where these were for me and I gave them to Nacho, but Lee and Shad didn’t know where Reggie was. Lloyd couldn’t come up with Reggie and Reggie had the
money—all of it. A week went by, no Reggie. The Cubans were running round the clock.

That Saturday morning I was closing up my disco joint when in walked Nacho and two of his goons, Camaguey and Paniagua. I was bullshitting Nacho about how I was expecting word on Reggie any day now when in came a kid ran errands for me, Squeaky. “Carlito, I just left the Village Gate with my girl—I saw him walking down to Houston Street, going in a building near the corner with some blonde chick.”

“Why didn’t you stay there and call up?”

“You always say never to talk on the phone, Carlito.”

Nacho, who ain’t supposed to understand English, said,
“El negro, eh? Vamos!”
I didn’t go for moving with these three
Cubiches
alone but I had no choice. We barrel-assed down to that corner, parked, and waited. Everybody was packing—Nacho even had a silencer on his piece. We stood until daybreak, then this blonde came out the corner building. I jumped out of the car, waving my wallet like I had a shield—“Young lady, I’m Detective Velez from the safe-and-loft squad. We have that second floor under surveillance; were you stopped by my uniform man?”

“No sir, I came down from the third floor. I didn’t see anyone.”

“Okay, miss, sorry. You better hurry along—this is not a very nice neighborhood.”

I got back in the car. “He’s on the third floor—I’m sure that broad was with him.” We waited until she was out of sight, then we piled out. In the hallway, Nacho started
giving orders—“Camaguey, you cover the entrance to the building—Paniagua, you keep going up to the roof— Carlito and I will hit the apartments.” Me and Nacho got to the third floor which was the top floor, the front pad was quiet so we eased to the back apartment—voices. I put my head down on the floor by the door—Reggie. The door was an old plank with a snap lock—I knew the kind from my B-and-E days, we hit the door together—wham! She come right off the hinges.

Reggie and Earl. They was sitting on a couch, one bulb overhead—a real skanky crash pad. “Freeze, motherfuckers.” Me and Nacho was both crouched like shooters no sooner we hit that door. “Carlito, don’t let him kill us,” Earl yelled, his eyes on Nacho.
“Aguarda
, Nacho,” I cooled Nacho. “You’re supposed to deliver him alive.” Earl said, “Let me explain—” “Too late, Earl, lights out. You cooked up this snatch—and of all people, Amadeo’s kid—knowing that you was leaving me and Rocco holding the bag—you knew these wops would cut us into little pieces. Reggie’s a crazy nigger but you was always my man—how could you jap us like this, Earl?”

“You done fucked with m’dignity now, so kill me right here or hear me out.”

“Cop your plea, Earl—
aguarda
, Nacho.”

“I ain’t copping no plea, motherfucker—I’m gonna tell you where it’s at. The kid did it by himself with his two punks. I knew nothin’ from nothin’—you gonna put me in a class with these crazy kids? Think, Carlito, is that me, is that my style? You think I’m out of my fuckin’ mind? I been in Saint Croix. Reginald finally got to me
yesterday, I flew in last night—look at the flight ticket in my pocket.”

“
Qué pasa
, Carlito,
qué pasa?
” Nacho was getting annoyed. “
Espera
, Nacho. Earl, you my brother, the only one I ever had. I want to believe you—but Reggie got to go.”

“Earl, they gonna put me on a meat hook”—Reggie was sweating bullets.

“You a fuck-up, but you my kid brother—you know you got to take me too, Carlito. Make your move, I’ll understand.”

“Earl, tell me what to do—you always tell me what I gotta do!” I was uptight.

“You got to off this dude alongside you and then we all split to the islands.”

“No good, Earl, they’re outside too—”

Then Reggie rolled the dice. He jumped and grabbed under a pillow of the couch—he got to pull the piece out—phft, phft—he took two in the back of the head splashing red right up in the air. Earl came straight for Nacho like a crazy man, screaming, “My brother, my brother!” Nacho smoked again—Earl stumbled in his tracks, then went down on his face right at our feet. Nacho pointed his piece at Earl’s head—then, without even knowing why, I put my pistol to Nacho’s temple.