Silver Lining - A Carpelli Adventure: Sequel To The Bestselling Thriller Fatal Mistake (11 page)

“Oh, really. When was the last time you saw him?”

“Hell, I don’t know. He just don’t come around no more is all I know.” The dealer snapped giving me attitude.

I held up the gun, gave him a look that said I will kill you and then I looked over at his guardian angel’s last known perch. He got the message and got cooperative again.

“Smith and Jones aren’t going to like me talking to you. If they see us together, they likely to kill me.” He stated as he looked around as if Smith and Jones would be hanging out here in the ghetto at one thirty in the morning.

“You said that already. And I said, they may kill you, if they find out about you talking to me, but I will kill you, if you don’t start talking to me right now.” I held the gun straight out, pointing it at him. “When was the last time you saw this guy and where can I find him?” I politely asked.

“I don’t know for sure. He was living over on Gertrude. It’s a yellow two story tenement that was supposed to be torn down a few years ago. He was on the second floor in the back. A real shit hole of a place. He had no water, no power, just a mattress on the floor and a blanket. He and some other guy were living there. Why you want him? He’s a total crack head. All he’s doing is killing himself with crack.” The dealer shared what little he knew and his personal assessment of the person.

“Gertrude and what? I asked.

“Shit, I don’t knows. Do I look like Ran McNally to you?” There was that attitude again, so I held the gun up right in his face and cocked it for effect. “That’d be Jackson. Gertrude and Jackson. Right side of the street, when you goes south from the interstate.” The dealer suddenly became very helpful once again.

“How far away is it?” I asked.

“Two blocks. That way.” The dealer pointed towards the east. “Just take Magnolia to Gertrude turn right. Building will be on your right hand side just before Jackson. I swear, I haven’t seen him in a couple of months.” The dealer seemed sincere for the most part.

“What’s his name?” I asked just trying to discern if the dealer was being honest, when he said he knew him and where he lived.

“I think he said it was Danny or Daniel something like that.”

“That’s good. See it wasn’t that hard to talk with me, now was it. Thank you for all your help. Now for future reference, it is Rand with a ‘D’ at the end, not ran, like someone ran away. It’s Rand McNally.” I shared with him, keeping in the spirit of sharing information. “Okay, I think you’re done working for the night. Give me everything in your pockets.”

“Wha…what?” The dealer acted as though he didn’t understand me.

“Give me everything in your pockets.” I ordered a second time and when he hesitated, I barked loudly at him. “Do it now! Give me everything you have.”

“Aw, hell no!” He shouted. “They’ll kill me.”

“And if you don’t, I’ll kill you,” I barked loudly. The dealer jumped at my response and suddenly slapped at the gun. He then turned and ran for the buildings next to us. I simply turned to follow him with the gun and fired once, it was too easy. There was a loud bang, I figured no one would bother to look or call the police. It was after all, just another night in the ghetto and gunfire was typical, common place. I hit the dealer in the thigh of his right leg and down he went. He’d made it as far as the sidewalk in front of the store.

“Damn you, you shot me! You shot me, man!” The dealer cried out, as I walked up to him. I knelt down a few feet away and pointed the gun at his forehead. That had the desired effect, the guy got real quiet, real fast.

“Now give me everything in your pockets.” I stated quietly yet firmly. This time, he did as he was told. He had a switch blade, six hundred and twenty dollars, thirty-six packets of crack, a prepaid phone card, a cell phone and a business card for Michael Nolan. Okay, I might be getting somewhere here. Nolan was not only the biker’s club president, he was a lawyer that apparently represented the drug dealer’s and their boss’s interests in court or he was one of them.

“Don’t move, ‘til I’m gone or you’re dead. You got that?” I snarled, as I walked away. I drove directly over to Gertrude and Jackson. The yellow two story tenement was there on the right hand side of the street. The place was dark. I decided to wait until day light to check it out and called it a night.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Smith and Jones were called to the home of their Lieutenant Jamal Brown at six a.m.. It wasn’t a social call.

“What the fuck happened last night?” Smith screeched at the dealer who was still bleeding lightly from the gunshot wound to his leg.

“The guy was just there, after I‘s turns around from dealing with a drunk guy and his bitch, in a Mercedes.” Lionel the dealer offered.

“Where was Tommy when this was going down, he wasn’t off getting laid again was he? Don’t lie to me Lionel or I will kill your ass.” Kelly stated curtly and stood glaring at him.

“Tommy had just made a pickup and had gone back into the building to watch over things. Then the Mercedes rolls up with the drunks in it and they be stumbling around like fools. I looked over for the sign from Tommy, You know to tell them to get lost, but no sign came.” Kelly cut him off at this point and asked.

“What’s the sign?”

“Tommy flashes his lighter three times, if I’m to pass on the customer. Tommy didn’t make any sign, so I waited for them to get out of the car before I waited on them. There weren’t nobody else around, so it didn’t cost nothin’ to wait.”

“Did you go looking for Tommy?” Kelly turned and asked Jamal.

“As soon as Lionel limped in, I went out looking for Tommy. I found him in the building where he was to watch Lionel from. He was in rough shape. Someone bashed his head in. They took all the money and his weapons too. I brought him back here, called the Doc and he’s fixing him now. He’s in the back room.” Jamal explained and then pointed towards the closed door on the back wall.

“You ain’t lying and keeping the cash for yourself are you, Jamal?”
Washington asked.

“No sir, you and Mr. Smith treat me real well. I’d be a fool to steal from you.” Jamal quickly replied.

“That it would be and just so you know when we find out who did this, if you’re involved, your family dies, right down to the baby.” Washington snarled.

“Now why you gotta threaten me? I’m a good employee for you. I watch your backs and I do whatever you ask. I ain’t no fool who’d steal from the hand that feed me. I know what you and Smith do to people who don’t respect you and I do respect you and I fear for my life, too.” Jamal tried to put Washington’s concerns to rest. Kelly could see this was going nowhere and interjected, but Jamal had to ask him right to his face.

“Why’s he got to threaten me? I’m your best man.”

“Enough already, Jamal. I believe you. Now, I want two guardian angels with each dealer until I say go back to one. I want you to put the word out that there’s a ten grand reward for anyone who can tell us who did this.” Just then the doctor a small, oriental man stepped out of the back room and Kelly turned and addressed him.

“So, how is Tommy?”

“He’s in rough shape but he’ll live. He just needs lots and lots of rest. He’ll be in bed for the next three to four weeks and then doing minimal activity for the next three or four.”

“Thanks, Doc.” Kelly then looked at Washington and nodded. Washington stepped into the back room and closed the door. Everyone turned and looked at the door for the minute or two Washington was inside. When Washington opened the door and stepped out, the group held it breathe collectively until finally Washington shook his head and said, “I’m afraid the patient didn’t make it.”

Kelly quickly followed Washington’s comments with one of his own.

“Gee what a shame. Doc, you better get slicing and dicing, we need some organs to auction.” The Doc just stood there staring at Kelly until Kelly stated, “What?”

“The man was in no danger of dying.”

“Now that is where your wrong, Doc. You see, if you’re so stupid that you let someone steal ten to fifteen thousand of my money, you don’t deserve to live. Now get slicing, time is money.”

“You are one cold Bastard.” The Doctor snarled as he started for the backroom.

“Freezing Doc, freezing,” Washington quipped.

Washington then turned to Jamal asked, “Are you sure you didn’t help yourself to anything in his pockets?”

“I didn’t do nothin’, I brought him back just as I saw him.”

“Okay, after the doc is done, keep the body here until tonight, then go dump it in the blast furnace at the cement plant.” Kelly ordered. Jamal nodded. Kelly then turned to address Lionel.

“So, Lionel,” Kelly began, “what happened to the cash that you had?”

“I didn’t have much, maybe a couple of hundred. The guy took it. He shot me and then held the gun to my head and took it from me.”

“Where was your gun?”

“I had it in my waist band. When I turned around he was holding his gun on me. He told me to walk over to him and I started like I was going to, but I didn’t. I kept looking for Tommy but he never came. The guy said he took care of him and that I was next, if I didn’t walk straight over to him. I ran though, as soon as a car down the block squealed its tires. He shot me, as I tried to get inside one of the buildings. After he did this, he said he’d be back for more and to tell you, he knows who you are and what you’re doing. He won’t stop ‘til he gets a cut.” Lionel lied but he had to say something regarding the man’s motive and the reason he was still alive to deliver the message.

“Lionel, you’re a lying sack of shit.” Washington announced as he walked across the room briskly to where Lionel was lying on a day bed. Washington didn’t hesitate a second. He walked right up and grabbed Lionel’s wound and squeezed. Blood squirted out between his fingers as he did so.

Lionel screamed in pain and began thrashing about the bed. Washington let go and looked at Kelly, who then started talking again.

“Lionel, was the guy who shot you, white or black?”

“Oh my leg, my leg. He was ah… shit, he was white,” Lionel answered.

“Lionel, was he big or small?”

“He was kind of big. No too big but not little either.
e looked in pretty good shape
He looked in pretty good shape, like he workout.”

“What kind of hair did he have?” Kelly then asked.

“It was kind of short and it was light brown in color.” Lionel managed between groans. “He looked like he’d been in a fight with someone holding a bag of nickels.”

Kelly and Washington exchanged glances and Kelly asked, “What was he wearing?”

“Wearing?” Lionel asked, Washington reached out and held his hand over Lionel’s leg wound. “I’m thinking, I’m thinking. I wasn’t looking at his clothes I was looking at the gun.” Washington’s hand dropped to just above the wound and Lionel began to wiggle. Kelly jerked his head upward and Washington moved his hand away. Lionel relaxed and Kelly pressed him to think about the guys clothes.

“Lionel, this real important, lots of things are depending on the answer. Think about what the guy looked like from a distance. It was warm last night, almost seventy degrees. Did the guy wear a jacket? Was he wearing sweat pants, blue jeans, what?”

“He wasn’t wearing no blue jeans. He had on,” Lionel looked at Kelly’s pants, casual slacks, “pants like yours, a tan color, I think and a tan colored golf shirt. He looked out of place for the neighborhood. His gun was a big automatic and he handled it as though he had been used to handling guns,” Lionel added.

“See Lionel, it wasn’t that bad.” Kelly remarked and turned to Jamal, “Make sure the doc takes care of Lionel here. I want him fixed as good as new. You call me, if there is any trouble lining up the extra guardians.”

“You got it boss,” Jamal replied.

Kelly and Washington, alias Smith and Jones, left Jamal’s, they didn’t say a word until to each other until they had driven a couple of blocks. Then it was Washington who spoke up first.

“It was the asshole with Holston and Dr. Harris. How’d he know it was us who took that little prick out and it’s us framing him for the crime?”

“He doesn’t know any of that,” Kelly offered.

“Then why is he hitting us?”

“I think, Holston or the D m oc told him all about the money we’re making with the street corner dealers and he’s out to get some quick cash, now that his meal ticket is gone.” Kelly shared. Then added, “Or our ME is using him to fuck with us.”

“Yeah, what was that crap at the morgue? Why’d we act out that little charade?”

“It was the Doc’s call. She said it would be the best way to set that guy for a much bigger fall.”

“Like what?” Washington asked.

“I don’t know. But I am going to find out.” Kelly confidently stated.

“Yeah, it has to be something else. It doesn’t make sense to hit just one dealer in the middle of the night. It makes a whole lot more sense to wait until morning and hit Jamal or William, when they have the big money. Even if they had a really good night, Lionel and Tommy, might have had ten grand all together. Jamal and William, each supervise ten corner dealers. Each dealer brings in ten grand for a total of a hundred grand. Hitting Jamal or William makes a lot more sense,” Washington shared his thoughts.

“Unless you don’t know about that shit or someone gave you bad information. If all you know, is there are corner dealers with cash, that’s all you’re going to go after.” Kelly explained why he thought the gun man only robbed Lionel. “Tonight, we’re going to have to hang out in the hood and be available to step in, if this guy should show up again.”

“Hey, what did you find out about the scheduling issue with Doctor Harris?” Washington asked.

“She wasn’t lying to us. The stiff got assigned to a different ME because she’s had a lot of extra cases as it is and the Sheriff ordered that the incoming bodies for autopsy be split between the doctors. But the guy assigned the case can recues himself. He’s got to sign a form saying he’s too busy to handle the case and get another ME to take it over.” Kelly explained.

“So Doctor Harris could still do what we need done. Is there some way to begin working with this new doctor?” Washington asked.

“I looked at his personnel file and if there is, it’s not real obvious. It’ll take too long to develop, so we can’t use him on this case.”

“Alright then where do we find the guy?” Washington asked.

“He loves to play golf and if we hurry, we can catch up with him, at about the third tee out at the Cherokee Country Club. I say we stop by and request he recues himself from our autopsy a.s.a.p. That way we can get the results faster and catch the bad guy that much sooner.” Kelly smirked as he said this. If only the everyday world knew about them, knew about what they controlled and what they did while being paid by the taxpayers to line their own pockets. They had a five year plan and a ten year plan. If it all worked as expected, they would be retired in another six years with more than twenty million apiece and a sheriff’s department pension to boot.

They found Doctor Stiversen on the second fairway. He seemed to be a pretty good golfer, he could really drive the ball off the tee. Kelly checked the little map you get on the back of the score card and saw, hole number two, was a par five. Four hundred and twenty-six yards long, with a dog leg to the left, sand traps guarding both sides of the approach.

As Kelly and Washington watched, Doctor Stiversen and his foursome work their way up the fairway to the green with solid precision iron work. Kelly couldn’t help but wonder, if maybe he shouldn’t take up golf. That way, by the time he was ready to retire, he’d have something to do beside go to Vegas and gamble.

Doctor Stiversen was on the green in three and one putted for a birdie or one under par. Yeah, Doctor Stiversen was one heck of a golfer. As he was writing down his score, Kelly and Washington approached.

“Doctor Stiversen, could we have a brief moment of your time?” Kelly asked, as he and Washington flashed their ID’s and Badges. Stiversen was playing with a trio of Real Estate developers, he badly wanted to impress. So when the two detectives walked up, Stiversen saw this as an opportunity to impress his new friends and he hammed it up.

“Yes, Detectives, what can I do for you.”

“It might be best, if we talked a bit in private,” Kelly suggested and nodded his head off to the side of the tee by the ball washer.

“Detectives, what is it? I’m not scheduled to work until six tonight.”

“That’s just it Doc,” Kelly started to say when Stiversen cut him off.

“That’s Doctor Stiversen,” the Doctor snorted.

“Yeah, whatever Doc,” Kelly replied as Washington stepped up to the back of Stiversen’s golf cart and took out his driver. “We need you to go in early and file a recusal form, so that we can get an autopsy done that has been waiting a couple of days already. We can’t make an arrest without the findings.”

“It’s Doctor Stiversen, Detective and I’m sure I can get you the preliminary findings by this evening.” Stiversen stated in a condescending tone.

“Hey, what’s this club made from?” Washington asked.

Stiversen turned to see Washington playing with his club and he became decidedly agitated. “Detective, please. That club is especially balanced to my weight, height and golf style. Please put it back.” Stiversen practically whimpered at the sight of Washington tapping the cub on the tire of the cart.

“So what’s it made of? Was it expensive?” Washington asked. The trio of development hotshots sat on the benches on the other side of the tee and talked quietly among themselves while watching Stiversen as he talked to the Detectives.