ROLL CALL ~ A Prison List (True Prison Story) (26 page)

BOOK: ROLL CALL ~ A Prison List (True Prison Story)
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Bob pulled up and parked and saw Ernie look out the window for a second. Ernie opened the front door and Bob saw exactly what he’d just imagined. Ricky was at the head of the table in that button down Dickie shirt with the top button buttoned! Tony was on his right just below him at the table and Ernie sat in a chair down below Ricky on his left!

Bob saw the only chair left put him at the bottom of the table and he sat down and looked at Ricky. Ricky looked refreshed, wired up on speed and angry! Bob thought, I’m tired, I can’t even remember how to explain what happened…

Ricky waited there patiently for what seemed like a long time but was only a minute and said, “Give me the money.”

Bob pulled out $3,500 and handed it over. He patted his other pocket and felt the other $400 he had and thought, I’m the one who made that dope Paul bought and I was supposed to make $500. Ricky was supposed to get $3,900.

Bob watched Ricky count the money quickly. As soon as he was done his face flew up and asked, “Where’s the rest of it?”

Bob explained the story in as much clear detail as possible and in a Moment of clarity, realized Ricky was getting dangerously angry hearing how B.J. was getting so much support. Bob continued to tell the story as it happened and saw Tony was visibly impressed hearing about the cliff and the binoculars. Ricky on the other hand looked like those kinds of honors were only supposed to go his way. Bob watched Ricky’s face darken with what looked like pure hate.

Ricky’s voice reflected that hate. “You blew it Bob. You straight up fucked up!”

Bob stood up from the table and threw his hands in the air. “What did you want me to do, drive back with it?”

Ricky snapped back, “That’s exactly what you should have done! Ernie had that shit sold for the $4,400 you were supposed to get.; didn’t you Ernie.”

Bob looked at Ricky’s cousin nodding his head like a loyal parrot.

“I had it sold in Felony Flats.”

Bob thought about that statement. It sounded rehearsed. He realized there wasn’t any way to disprove it and he didn’t even know if he wanted to if he could. Ricky looked ready to explode. I’ll just let him have this one and count on his conscience reminding him of how far we go back and how loyal I’ve been.

Bob looked at Ricky, Tony and Ernie staring at him and thought back a few years. He remembered how a few years ago Ricky took someone on who turned out to be a problem in Ricky’s eyes. Ricky had him lured into a strip club and had him stabbed to death. A few days later we found out the feds were on their way to investigate the possible disappearance and information was leading them right to the club. Bob remembered how he followed Ricky’s instructions. How he had leaked the most flammable kerosene known to man all over the area the blood had saturated. It ended up burning the whole club down, no evidence. Ricky had been so grateful. He’ll remember and make it up to me.

Ricky broke the silence. “You know we need all the money we can get for the drum set!!”

Bob thought about the drum set. He must be talking about the 55 gallon drums the chemicals come in to manufacture the speed. Bob thought about how he had been doing all of the work lately. I’ve been the one in the kitchen doing the manufacturing, one batch after another, while Ricky held his meetings, keeping me out of the loop on what those meetings were even about.

Bob reached into his other pocket and pulled out the $400. He slid it toward Ricky and said, “That’s all the money I have to my name and remember I was supposed to get $500 for making that shit in the first place!”

Bob thought, Ricky will give me that $400 back!

Ricky scooped up the cash and put it in his pocket and that hateful look on his face returned. He looked at his watch and looked back and snapped what sounded like an order.

“Take that Chevy truck back to Tim in the Canyon. He’s been calling all night asking for his truck back. I had Ernie leave enough chemicals to make a pound of dope and we need that done A.S.A.P.. We already have another buyer for it and we need that cash for the drum set to take care of that Alabama account we came up on!”

Bob thought about what little he knew about the Alabama account. Ricky had met the representative from Alabama who went by Tiny. Ricky had said, “The guy is the opposite of tiny, he’s almost seven feet tall and he can move 50 pounds of speed a week through four or five states. We have to be able to give him what he needs before he goes somewhere else for the dope and we lose the opportunity to get rich!”

Ricky thought about Tiny’s account and the $100,000 he imagined making a week. He looked right at Bob and said, “We need you to step it up a notch Bob. You’re going to have to live in the kitchen making our dope until we can get Tiny off and running. Then we’ll take a break and go to Vegas and rinse the money and buy some toys to celebrate.”

Bob watched Ricky shake everyone’s hand and head for the front door and say, “I’ve got to go handle some important business. I’ll check in with you, Bob, in a few hours.”

Bob looked at Tony and Ernie sitting there staring at him like they were in charge of enforcing Ricky’s order. Bob thought, this change in atmosphere has to be from the Alabama account, but why am I the one getting niggard! I’m the most integral component to this organization… Besides Ricky… And maybe Tony… All these years of loyalty and I have to look at Ernie sitting there like he’s in charge of me.

“What the fuck is going on Tony?”

Bob watched Tony and Ernie look at each other to decide something. Ernie tapped his watch like Ricky had done and said, “You heard what Ricky said, he needs you in the Canyon like an hour ago!”

Bob thought, “fuck this” and snapped, “Check this out Ernie, you’re a fucking knack! You can’t even wipe your own ass without directions! How many times have you fucked up thousands of dollars by blowing up our batches of speed? I lost count. I’m not taking orders from you!”

Bob and Tony watched Ernie look confused and decide not to make an issue out of it. Instead he looked at his watch again and then looked up and said in a meek voice, “You heard what Ricky ordered.”

Bob watched Tony take over and pat Ernie on the shoulder and say, “Don’t worry about Bob. I’ve got to talk to him anyway. Why don’t you go do what Ricky told you to do.”

Ernie walked out the door and Bob told Tony, “Ricky left me penniless. I’m not going to the Canyon until I get laid and go out and collect some money I’m owed so I can eat! I think I’ll go to Lisa’s house and try to kill two birds with one stone.”

Bob looked into Tony’s eyes to see if his defiance produced the same hate Ricky had in his eyes. Tony’s eyes looked sad, he said, “Bob, I’ve got to talk to you. I’m going to the backyard to make a phone call first. Give me five minutes and meet me back there.”

CHAPTER 60

 

Bob opened the sliding glass window to the back yard and saw Tony with his back to him in the corner of the backyard looking over the fence at Highland Blvd.

Tony stood there thinking, what can I even tell Bob? What if he reacts to the truth and tells Ricky I told him? How do I tell him about the long ago mafia issues that are sure to resurface now that Ricky is doing business with Mark Argenta? I have to tell him.

Bob looked over the fence with Tony. The boulevard and shopping center across the street brought back a flood of childhood memories of he, Ricky and Tony running around together. After a few minutes of solitude waiting for Tony to talk, Bob asked, “What’s going on Tony? Something is definitely not right with Ricky… Or you and Ernie.”

Tony thought about all of the pieces involved. Mark Argenta brought us to Tiny, in charge of the multistate southeastern belt that started with Alabama and went through Tennessee, Florida and Georgia. He thought about all of the homework he and Ricky had done on it and still had a hard time believing Ricky was willing to take the risk. Tiny had recently stepped into the multi-state account after Yogi, the guy who had the four-state account before him was gunned down by the police. Tony thought about the homework that explained the details surrounding Yogi’s downfall and how Yogi was a runner for a drug cartel operation from Michoacán, Mexico. The same cartel that had it out for Mark Argenta for all these years…

Tony said, “Bob, you’re Ricky’s best friend, but you’re my friend too. If I was Ricky, I’d tell you to transplant yourself in Orange County… You’d still have your juice card and all of our doors would still be open to you.”

Bob looked at Tony’s stoic face until he looked back over the fence. Bob thought about everything B.J. had said on the boat for a second, then asked Tony, “Why would you tell me to move to Orange County?”

Bob watched Tony try to figure out what to say. He couldn’t. Finally he said, “Hey holmes, we’re in a fucked up position in some fucked up times. That’s all I can tell you for now.”

Bob thought about the cryptic message and focused on how Tony had just called him holmes. Holmes meant stranger! Bob responded, “Tony, what is this holmes shit? You call me Bob, or partner, or better yet call me brother. That’s how I look at you and Ricky.”

Bob watched Tony react and remembered some of the courageous acts he’d seen out of Tony over the years. Now it looked like he was near tears. It was hard to watch.

Bob said, “Come on Tony. Look at me. What’s going on brother?”

Bob watched Tony gather himself and turn to look at him. “Bob, you know who Ricky’s girlfriend, Salina’s stepfather is don’t you.”

Bob thought, good I’m finally getting somewhere. Of course I know him. Mark Argenta. Everyone in the underground in San Berdoo knows his name. He used to have a lot of the action in these parts in the 1970’s and 80’s. That was back when the action was mostly heroin and cocaine. He expanded it into a Limo business and that’s where things got ugly. He let the power go to his head and turned himself into a pimp. He started prostituting young girls by getting them strung out on heroin and driving them around in his limo’s as whores. Supposedly, one of those young girls was a relative of a cartel from Michoacán, Mexico. They had sent a hit squad that left Argenta alive but in a wheel chair, and Argenta’s two top lieutenants dead in different places at the same time. The newspapers noted that both had been blindfolded and shot with the same caliber weapon that was left at the crime scene. People in the business had speculated that if Argenta ever got back in the business again, his family was next.

Bob said, “Of course I know him.”

Bob watched Tony and thought about the implication. We do a lot of business in the speed trade and might be associated with Argenta through Salina. Then he realized what might be. “Is Ricky doing business with Argenta?”

Tony nodded his head yes. “That’s how we got introduced to Tiny. It gets so deep and evil I can’t even believe it. All the old rules have changed and there isn’t a shred of honor in this business anymore.”

Bob thought back to what B.J. had said earlier.

Tony continued, “You know how Argenta got put out of business by that cartel in Michoacán Mexico? It turns out that they are at war with the most powerful cartel in Mexico. The head of that cartel goes by El Diablo. We found out that El Diablo is into a deep satanic cult and so is Mark Argenta! They formed an alliance through this cult. This El Diablo orchestrated the takeover of the Alabama account in a diabolical way. We know all of this because we know people in Alabama who watched everything I’m about to tell you go down. El Diablo sent in some of the best speed on the planet to some of his minions to use to pull Yogi’s clients away from him. You know how tweekers are, they will switch their loyalty for better dope like it’s the thing to do. Not only was El Diablo busy undermining Yogi, the Michoacán cartel’s runner, he was having his minions give this powerful speed to kids in junior high school and high school. These kids stopped going to school and walked the streets like zombies all night. Working with El Diablo, Mark Argenta opened up shop in Alabama with Psychic reading businesses. He pulled some of these kids in and impressed them with all kinds of dark magic, Ouiji boards, séances and other tricks to lure them into his power. Argenta had some of these kids working for him and doing what he told them. He had them spray paint Yogi’s name at churches they set on fire. He had them tell the authorities Yogi was the one selling the speed to them and other kids from junior high school. While this was happening, Yogi felt the dissention among his micro dealers. They weren’t paying up. Then he found that they had a better flavor of speed. He started collecting and the trap was sprung. Argenta made calls to the authorities putting Yogi’s name out that he was the Michoacán cartel’s drug and gun runner and that he is armed and dangerous and promises to shoot it out with the police. When Argenta found out where Yogi was collecting, he dropped the final dime. The police gunned Yogi down in a fusillade of bullets that left him dead on the concrete. That’s how Tiny maneuvered into position to take over the account.”

Bob thought about it and remembered that police shooting had been on the news a few months back. It was eerie to see the pieces fit together. It was even more eerie after hearing what B.J. had to say earlier! Bob imagined the diabolical plan Tony had just finished explaining and imagined Argenta on the ground in Alabama nibbling up the left behind pieces for this El Diablo. Bob asked, “Does Salina know her step father is back in business?”

Tony said, “No. She only sees him on birthdays and Christmas. Ricky said that Argenta knows Salina’s catholic and says Argenta wears a cross on his neck like he’s Catholic too! I’ve been deciding if I should move to New York, or if I should stay and take out Argenta.”

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