Steeled for Murder (34 page)

I’d had enough time to see the top part of the yellow lettering on the back of his vest. POLICE.

Probably meant the kids were safe. Was he assigned specifically to watch out for me? To see if I tried to accost one of the little girls? Panic began to rise in my throat.

Be sensible,
I told myself. I was later than usual. No kids here most days when I walked by. So even if he was here to keep an eye on me, no way could he have been sent specifically to see if I interacted with any of the kids at the bus stop.

I cut in front of the surveillance vehicle to the other side of the street. He couldn’t miss seeing me. No point getting near the kids and giving him anything additional to report.

The school bus lumbered up. I stopped to look at a dispirited display in the window of one of the remaining stores, waiting to see if the car stayed after it left.

The bus pulled off. I turned to see the car ease out of its place by the curb and head down the street. The lone parent backed into a sheltered entryway to an abandoned store and pulled out her cell phone.

Maybe the surveillance had nothing to do with me. Maybe someone had reported something around the school bus stop, so an undercover cop had been dispatched to keep an eye on it. Drug sales? Seemed unlikely with kids that young.

Or maybe they just made it their business to keep an eye on kids waiting for the bus.

I heard footsteps approaching from behind. I moved over close to the window I’d been looking in, moving so the wall would be at my back if I turned around.

“Jesse.”

I turned to face Gustavus.

He stopped in front of me, a smirk on his face.

Interesting that he knew my name. Hard to tell if that should worry me or not. I remembered the old saying about being paranoid. Once people know you’re paranoid, they can do pretty much anything and figure you’ll put any suspicions down to your own paranoia.

I didn’t say anything. If he wanted something, he’d start talking.

“I got to talk to you, man.”

This was getting old. I took my hands out of my pockets. “So talk.”

He jerked his head toward an alley entrance. “Not here. Over there.”

I wasn’t about to go hide in an alley with him. “Here or nowhere.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

I waited. The silence grew uncomfortable. He was trying to make me say something first. That would give him a better sense of control. Wasn’t going to happen.

The smirk faded from his face. He shifted from one foot to the other. It was cold, and he wasn’t as warmly dressed as I was.

Finally, he shook his head. “I got a proposition for you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I can help you out.” He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. He wasn’t wearing gloves.

I flexed my fingers inside my gloves. Mitch’s gloves, really. “I doubt it.”

“Let me tell you what I can do for you.”

Might as well hear him out. “I’m listening.”

Gustavus glanced around.

I wondered if Gustavus had seen the surveillance car. Or if they were somehow connected. Why couldn’t everybody just leave me alone?

Gustavus evidently decided it was safe to talk. “I got some information you’d be willing to pay for.”

I laughed. “You’re talking to the wrong man. I got no money to pay you.”

“You will have.”

“Don’t see how.”

He licked his lips. “Look. I know a lot of what goes on around here. More than you think. I sell information to the highest bidder.”

“So not only do I have to pay you to find anything out, but as soon as anybody else can outbid me, you’ll tell them about it.”

Gustavus shrugged.

“Let me guess. Sterling Radman can outbid me for sure. So can the cops. Especially Detective Belkins.”

A look of confusion came onto Gustavus’ face. Followed by a mulish expression.

“Am I on the right track, here? Radman pays you to find out stuff for him.”

“He keeps me on payroll. Then he gives me a bonus when I do something extra.”

I thought about Mitch. “Like killing someone?”

Gustavus looked stubborn. “Wouldn’t do that. Not unless it was an accident. Or paid really well.”

I raised my eyebrows. Mandy didn’t know how close she was to someone who might carry out her murderous plans for her. Hopefully the now-abandoned murderous plans.

He shivered and shifted from one foot to the other. He wore an old pair of dress shoes; the thin soles wouldn’t keep out the cold for long. “And Detective Belkins pays whether you tell him the truth or not. He even gave me a cell phone so I could call him anytime.”

“So you tell him what he wants to hear.”

“Yeah.”

“Some of it about me?” I could just imagine.

“Well, yeah. But nothing that could get you in trouble.”

I narrowed my eyes into a prison-yard stare.

He looked away from me and shifted on his feet.

“You don’t want to hear about nothing?” he asked.

“How could I know if you was telling me the truth? Or making everything up?”

Gustavus got a crafty look in his eyes. “I’ll tell you some stuff, and you decide whether it’s worth paying me for.”

“I got no money.”

“You can use what I tell you to get some money.”

“You don’t think I’m going to do anything that could get me locked up, do you? I like not sleeping locked in a cell.”

He appeared to think about that for a minute. “You could get rich.”

“Rich don’t do me much good if I’m locked up.”

Gustavus blinked, trying to digest that. “Mitch was dealing crystal meth,” he said.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” This was getting tiresome.

“He was handling shipments for Radman.”

“Drug shipments?”

“Not so much. That was more Mitch’s sideline. More like fake IDs. And credit cards got with stolen IDs.”

“Like I say, tell me something I don’t know.”

“Radman is cashing out what he can. He’s going to change his name and leave. With a lot of cash.”

“Why is he sticking around at all?”

“He made some commitments to some big-time types. With the fake IDs. He got to finish up that.”

“Why? Why can’t he just take off?”

“These people. MS 13 or whatever gang he’s gotten mixed up with. They’ll track him down if he don’t finish what he told them he’d do.”

I hadn’t heard of MS 13 dealing in fake IDs, but what did I know? They had a lot of immigrant connections, so I could see where it might be an attractive sideline. “What’s to keep them from tracking him down anyhow? I wouldn’t think they’d want to leave any loose ends.”

Gustavus looked thoughtful.

“You been working with Radman. And the cops. Why are you telling me this?”

“I thought we could team up. Get some of that cash. Radman’s got lots of cash stashed all over.”

“Like the envelope of hundreds hidden in the pantry at his place?”

Gustavus’s eyes opened wide. “You know about that?”

“What you think I was doing at his place with his wife? Screwing her?”

“Well, yeah.”

I looked at him in disgust. “You don’t need me. You’re gonna rob the man who’s been paying you all this time, you can do it yourself.”

“I need somebody to help me. I can distract him while you kill him.”

One of the disadvantages of having a murder conviction was that people tended to get the idea that I might be willing to kill someone.

I clenched my fists and turned away from him. “Don’t want to get involved. I got no money. Even if I was to give some thought to doing something that might get me locked up again—and I’m not, mind you—it wouldn’t be with someone who’d sell me out to anybody willing to pay a little more than I could. Even the cops.”

Gustavus looked at me from under lowered eyelids. “You calling me a snitch?”

“A snitch who does it for money. Worst kind of snitch.”

Wouldn’t do me any good to let my anger get out of hand. I ducked my head into the wind and walked away from him, forcing myself not to look back.

I got a half block away when I heard footsteps running behind me. I stopped and started to turn.

Just in time to feel a fist smash into my shoulder.

I staggered forward, but quickly regained my footing. I spun around, raising my fists.

“What the hell, man?” I faced my opponent, dropping into a crouch.

Gustavus. His eyes were wild.

“I told you all that stuff. You owe me.” He took another swing at my face.

Amateurish. I avoided his fist just by leaning back. I let loose with one of my own, hitting him in the gut and knocking him over backwards.

“You’d better lay off the meth, or whatever you been taking,” I said. “Your mind isn’t working straight.”

Gustavus lay on the icy sidewalk for a minute, his chest heaving.

“You done?” I asked.

He had trouble catching his breath. “Yeah.”

“I don’t want no trouble. I don’t want to do business with you. Or with Radman. Or with Belkins. Understand?”

Still on lying on the sidewalk, Gustavus scowled. He wiped his nose. “Yeah.”

I held my hand down to help him up. He grabbed it and struggled to his feet.

“Okay. Now exactly what did you want to tell me? But I ain’t paying.”

Gustavus shook his head. He rubbed his nose with the side of his hand. “I’m gonna tell Belkins you been seeing Mandy Radman. Stalking her. Everybody knows she ain’t wrapped real tight.” Then he made a fist and slammed it toward my face.

Damn Mandy and her lunch. I got my arm up in time to deflect Gustavus’s ineffective blow, but he followed it with a left, which landed on the side of my jaw. “That other detective saw you at the restaurant with Mandy. They’ll believe anything I tell them,” he said between clenched teeth.

I countered with another punch to his gut, this one with some momentum behind it, and he went down again. Some people never learn.

I resisted the urge to kick him.

Sirens. I looked around. The lady with the cell phone watched, open-mouthed. She’d probably called 9-1-1. Backup for the bus stop surveillance wouldn’t be far away.

Not good. I doubted I could get far. Besides, Gustavus knew who I was.

I straightened up and stepped back from Gustavus’s writhing form.

A patrol car angled in at the curb. The first cop out of the car stood behind the open door, his gun trained on me. His partner circled around behind me and hustled me to the hood of their car, slamming me face first into it. He grabbed my hands and cuffed my wrists behind my back.

I closed my eyes and bit my lip, willing myself not to start cussing. I felt his hands search me. Wallet, key, and gloves thumped as they were tossed on the roof of the car.

Strong hands pulled me erect and spun me around, pushing my back against the car. I looked past the cops, out into the dirty wet street. I reminded myself they were just doing their job.

Two other cars pulled up, one marked, one not. Montgomery was driving the unmarked one. He and Belkins got out and came over.

“What’s he done now?” Belkins demanded.

The cop shrugged his shoulders. “When we pulled up, he was standing over this other guy.” He indicated Gustavus, still lying on the sidewalk. His partner had holstered his gun and was leaning over Gustavus.

I noticed bitterly that no one was shoving Gustavus onto the hood of a car and cuffing him.

Belkins grinned around the soggy cigar. “Assault.”

“Maybe more of a fight,” Montgomery suggested, looking at my rapidly swelling jaw.

“Assault, fight. Who cares? Ramirez’ll have to violate him for either.” Belkins leaned close enough that I could smell his sour breath. I thought I detected alcohol.

Montgomery stepped between us and took me by the elbow. He shoved me toward a neglected store entryway and nodded toward the front step. “Sit down, Damon.”

I looked down at the dirty, wet, cement step. I tried to flex my wrists in the cuffs. Tight enough to hurt. If I managed to stay out of prison, was this what the rest of my life was going to be like? Couldn’t even walk home from work without ending up in custody. Maybe I should stop fighting this and tell Mr. Ramirez to send me back to prison. At least I’d know where I stood.

Montgomery squeezed my elbow gently and leaned in close to my ear. “Don’t be stupid. Sit,” he said.

I sat.

“Stretch your legs out in front of you and cross your feet at the ankles.”

I stretched out my legs and crossed my ankles.

With assistance, Gustavus had struggled to his feet. Montgomery took him aside to talk to him. Belkins came over and stood over me. “So what happened?”

The angle I had to hold my arms was uncomfortable. The cold damp was seeping into the fabric of my jeans. I stared at the sidewalk beside my legs. I thought about ignoring him. But I said, “I dunno. We was talking, and then I went to leave. He hit me.”