Takedown (19 page)

At that moment my phone buzzed. I glanced down, relieved to see that it was only Tasha. I ignored the call.

“Somebody's edgy,” Jessica said. She was still perceptive, despite all the meds. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything's cool. It was just Tasha.”

“Oh.” She wasn't Tasha's biggest fan either. “When am I gonna see Kiki? I miss him.”

“Soon.” Guilt washed over me. Now that she was out of ICU and off the ventilator, I should've brought Kiki in to visit her. But with all my responsibilities as an executive, I hadn't had the chance.

“How's school? Everybody still asking about me?”

I had to smile. “No one talks about anything else.” Truth was, I'd hardly been at school since the shooting, but I didn't want her to know that.

The door opened, and Jessica's mom walked in. She looked so small and frail as she approached Jessica's bed and took her hand. At least now that Jessica was awake, she wasn't crying all the time.

I kissed Jessica and left the room. Since I wasn't due back at the stash house yet, I figured I'd stop in at home to see if I'd heard from Kessler. I hadn't checked the secret cell since lunchtime, and I hoped Kessler had gotten the warrant for Tyrell's apartment by now.

If I was lucky, I'd also catch Kiki before bed.

I drove home in the Lexus that Marcus had rented for me. I'd have preferred a car that didn't attract so much attention, especially because rumor had it the Bloods were itching to take out more of Tony's team. But driving some beater car wasn't an option. The ride was part of the executive mystique.

When I got in the door, Mom and Tasha were watching TV. Kiki must've already gone to bed.

I went to my room and grabbed the phone from under my mattress.

No messages.

How long could it possibly take for a judge to sign a piece of paper? Kessler had to get that gun from Tyrell before he got rid of it. I was counting on the fact that he wanted it for the Blood bath and would keep it until that was over. But he could wise up and dump it at any time. I wished I hadn't commented on it in the car—I was an executive, and that might've spooked him. He could worry I'd tell Tony.

“How many phones do you have, anyway?” Tasha asked, leaning in the doorway. Just like her to sneak in without knocking.

“Mind your business.”

“Did you see that I called you?”

“Oh yeah. You did. Checking up on baby boy?”

“Kiki wanted to know when you were coming home. He misses you.” She crossed her arms. “I've been wondering something.”

“What's that?”

“Why you haven't moved out yet. You're an exec now, right? You must be swimming in green.”

She was at it again. I forced myself to stay cool. “I'm staying here because of Kiki. I know I haven't been around much lately, but that'll change soon. I don't need to explain myself to you. You're not the one paying the rent. If Mom wants me out, I'll get out.”

“Mom wants
you
to pay the rent, that's what she wants. Anyway, I was thinking we should make up a story for Kiki about what
his brother does. Because I don't think a drug dealer—no, sorry, an executive to the kingpin—is much of a role model.”

“Kiki's a good judge of character. See whose arms he runs to next time we're both in the room.”

“Can't argue with that. You've always been the prize around here.”

“What's going on?” Mom poked her head in. That was a surprise. Usually when Tasha and I fought, she turned up the volume on the TV.

“Nothing new,” I said. “Tasha's nominating me for Citizen of the Year.”

Mom turned on Tasha. “Stop nagging him. Jessica's in the hospital, for God's sake. He must be exhausted.”

“So now
I'm
the bad guy. What's new?” Tasha stalked out of the room.

I sighed. “You don't need to keep defending me, Mom. I can handle Tasha.”

“She doesn't know when to stop. Never has.” Mom turned to leave.

“Wait.” I took a deep breath. “She told me about Dad.”

Mom nodded. I guess Tasha had already mentioned it. “I did the best I could for you, Darren. I wanted you to have someone to look up to so you wouldn't get into trouble.”

I had to laugh. “How'd that work for you?”

“It worked good.” She came over and sat on the edge of the bed. “You never got into drugs, did you?”

“ 'Course not. I'm not dumb enough to start using.”

She stiffened. “Your father wasn't dumb either.”

“I wouldn't know.”

She was silent for a while, and I could tell she was debating whether to say something. “It wasn't all his fault, you know. It was the business he was in. Everyone in the music scene was on something.”

That threw me off. “The music scene?”

“Yeah. He used to MC at clubs and parties and all that.”

I couldn't believe my dad had been into music. “Why didn't you tell me any of this?”

“Because that whole scene is trouble. When your dad started using, he was just having fun. Never had to pay for his own booze, crack, nothing. He couldn't handle the temptation.”

So much about my mom finally clicked. This was why she never wanted me involved in music. “Don't worry, Mom. That would never happen to me. I see what drugs do to people.”

“Good.”

Mom knew what I was getting at—being a street dealer was a wake-up call for anyone tempted to start using.

Maybe that was why she didn't stop me from dealing. I wasn't going to ask.

The Game

She'll use you

She'll seduce you

Red carpet of cash under your feet

Sure there's guns

Sure there's death

You think you're strong, you take the heat

It's about the ca-ching

The glitter of bling

Only problem is

If you live this biz

You rock the lifestyle

And make big plans

Then you look in the mirror

There's blood on your hands.

R
ay-go was a natural businessman. When we did cash drops together, I let him do the talking. He knew what to say to put the jumpy shop owners at ease.

Sometimes I felt like we were in an old gangster movie. The owners would meet us at the back of their stores and bring us inside for the cash. Most of them didn't want to be involved with Tony, but they were too scared to speak up. Even though he gave them a decent cut of the money, it didn't make up for the worry of getting caught.

We finished the cash drops around nine. It was too late to see Jessica. Since she'd been moved out of ICU, I had to stick to regular
visiting hours. I went home, hoping that I wouldn't get a call from one of the executives that night. But it was hard to relax knowing that any day now Tony could give the go-ahead for the Blood bath.

The phone rang. I jumped and grabbed my cell.

But it was the wrong phone.

I scrambled to dig the cell from under my mattress. “Hello?”

“Darren, I'm glad I caught you,” Kessler said. “We found the gun at Tyrell's place.”

“Is it the murder weapon?”

“Looks like it. The ballistics won't come back for a few days. We've got him here. He's keeping his mouth shut. I want you to come in and watch us question him. Maybe you can help us figure out what will get him talking.”

Sounded like her optimism of the other night had taken a hit. I wasn't sure there was anything I could do to help, but I'd try.

“I'm there,” I promised, hanging up.

I took a train downtown and scoped the street before slipping into the police station. Kessler met me right away and brought me to Homicide on the second floor, then to an interrogation room with a small black-and-white TV. On it, there was Tyrell, staring down at a table. A bald detective sat next to the TV, writing down notes.

“Detective Reitz, this is Prescott's CI.”

“Hello.” His eyes were cold, and he didn't shake my hand. I knew what he was thinking—a snitch is a snitch.

“Tyrell hasn't said anything so far but ‘Fuck you,' ” Reitz said. “Kessler here thinks you might have a strategy to deal with that.”

I watched Tyrell on the screen, noticed the way he hung his head, fidgeted nervously with his hands, and shuffled his feet. He was scared. I knew the feeling. I'd never forget the night Vinny had brought me to see Tony, when I'd expected to die.

I turned to Kessler. “He's terrified of Tony. He disobeyed him by keeping the gun. You should play on that. Remind him that he must've gone against Tony's orders and that Tony's gonna be mad. Tell him that Tony won't risk him talking. Tell him he's dead even if he doesn't rat him out.”

Kessler and Reitz glanced at each other. Reitz actually said, “Thank you,” as he got up. They headed for the door.

“One more thing,” I said, and they both turned.

“Remind him that he's got kids. And that for Tony, no one is off-limits.”

M
idnight. I was still at Homicide, my head in my hands.

I'd watched Kessler and Reitz play it as best they could, but it wasn't enough. Tyrell wasn't going to talk. Despite the fear in his eyes, despite his fiendlike jitters, he wasn't going to implicate Tony.

My phone went off for the second time in twenty minutes. Vinny. I'd ignored his last call, but this time I had to take it. I didn't need him getting suspicious.

“Yo.”

“Darren, I been calling you. Where you at?”

“Just got home.”

“We're about to have a meeting. Nine-one-one, son. Nine-one-one. The China place.” He hung up.

So they'd heard that Tyrell had been arrested.

I glanced at the TV screen. I doubted anything would change while I was gone. Kessler and Reitz would probably throw in the towel soon.

The China place was an abandoned town house in a seedy part of Chinatown. The front steps were crumbling, but the back entrance was usable. I'd been here once before. There was no furniture, just dirt and dust and whatever trash the latest squatters had left behind. I watched where I stepped in case there were syringes on the floor.

Inside, everybody was standing in a circle.

“You heard about Tyrell getting picked up?” Vinny asked.

I acted surprised. “When did it happen?”

“Few hours ago.”

“What they got on him?”

“We don't know yet,” Marcus said.

Tony cracked his knuckles. “Bitch-ass kept a gun I told him to throw away. I'll fuck him up.”

“He won't talk, will he?” I asked.

“Nah, he won't talk,” Marcus said.

Tony didn't seem so sure. “No doubt the cops will wanna make him a deal.”

“It's on him,” Vinny said. “It's all on him. You got no worries.”

“Don't I? I should've ended him when he fucked up the Blood bath!”

“You couldn't have known this would happen,” Marcus said, trying to calm him down. “Tyrell won't snitch. Not if he wants to live another day.”

I had a strong instinct on how to play this. “I hope you're right,” I said to Marcus. “But the cops will mess with his head. I bet they're telling him that Tony's gonna kill him no matter what, just to make sure he stays quiet.”

Marcus glared at me. He wanted to stop Tony from doing something rash.

“Darren's right,” Tony said. “Tyrell could talk either way.”

“Unless we get him a message that if he keeps his trap shut, you're cool with him,” I told Tony.

“Makes sense to me,” Ray-go said. “We could send somebody to see him. Let him know that if he stays quiet, we've got his back.”

Marcus thought about it. “Maybe McFadden.”

Damn it.
McFadden was Tony's expensive lawyer. It made perfect sense for him to deliver the message.

Tony shook his head. “This is too steep for him. This ain't some trafficking case. This is about a cop. We can't trust some crooked-ass lawyer with that.”

Marcus gave up the point. “Then one of us better do it.”

At that moment, we all looked away from Tony.

“Darren,” Tony said. “It was your idea. You do it.”

“But—” Seeing Tony's hard stare, I nodded grudgingly. “Okay.”

My fists tightened with satisfaction. For once, Tony had played right into my hands.

W
hen I got back to the station, it was one in the morning. Kessler was still there. She rubbed her temples like she was fighting a headache. “We couldn't get a word out of him. Not one word. We told him we were picking up his cousin. He didn't flinch.”

“Where is he now?”

“In Central Holding downstairs.”

“With other guys?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. That'll keep him on edge.”

“You were right about him, Darren. He's been well programmed.
Walker knows how to choose his people.”

“I want to see him.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“I'm bringing him a message from Diamond Tony. I'll pay off a guard to let me talk to him. Happens all the time.”

She didn't deny that. Everybody knew some of the guards took bribes. It was part of the game.

“Maybe it's safer if we make it look like you got picked up,” she said.

“No. Tony sent me to deliver a message, and I know exactly what I've got to do. Trust me. It's our last chance.”

“Go for it, then.”

Minutes later, a guard ushered me up to the cell. Tyrell was in there with four other guys. Most of them were strung out. Tyrell was slumped in a corner, keeping his distance from the others. When he saw me, his eyes bugged out, and he jumped to his feet.

“D.” He gripped the bars. “How's Tony?”

He searched my eyes, trying to gauge how much trouble he was in. For a second, I almost felt sorry for him. Then I thought of Prescott.