The System - A Detroit Story - (12 page)

"I can handle it," said Paulie. "No problem." 

"Let me ask you this," said Zippy. "Have you ever changed a tire?" 

"Couple of times." 

Eddie put the magazine down and called them over. 

Eddie looked at Paulie and said, "Your uncle and I go way, way back. I don't know what he told you."

"He said you were in Viet Nam together."

"That's right," said Eddie. "Carried me out when I got shot. I owe him for that." Eddie adjusted himself in the chair and said, "Why did he really send you here?"

Paulie shrugged. "You know. To learn the business."

Eddie looked at him. "You don't know the first thing about cars."

"That's why I'm here. To learn."

Eddie sat back. "You know," he said. "Nobody gets into this business without having cars in their blood. At least I don't know anybody. It hurts me that your uncle doesn't trust me."

"He trusts you," said Paulie.

"If he did, you wouldn't be here." Eddie thought for a moment. "You want to go on a boost?"

"Sure do," said Paulie.

"He ain't ready," said Zippy.

"I'm ready," said Paulie. "I'm fuckin' ready right now."

"No you aren't," said Zippy.

Eddie held up his hand. "Hold it. Both of you." He looked at Zippy. "Cool it for a minute."

"I'm tellin' you, he ain't ready," said Zippy.

Eddie rolled out from behind the table and looked at Paulie. "Make a deal with you," said Eddie. "Tell me why you're here and you go on a boost. Tomorrow."

"To learn how to steal cars. Learn the business," said Paulie. 

Eddie stared at him for a moment, then shook his head. "Forget it. Forget I said anything." He looked at Zippy. "You done with him for today?"

"Wait a minute," said Paulie.

"Never mind, kid," said Eddie. "Forget about it." 

Paulie hesitated, and then said, "Tomorrow?"

"Just answer the question and you're good to go."

Paulie put his hands in his back pockets, looked at the floor and said, "To watch you."

"Why?" said Eddie.

"To see if you got something going with some Albanian guy."

Eddie looked at him a long time, and then rolled back behind the table.

"Why does he think that?" he said.

"He thinks you're playing him. He don't like it."

"What did he want you to do?" said Eddie.

Paulie shrugged. "See if the guy ever showed up here. See if you ever talked about him. About deals."

Eddie shook his head. "Well, you can let Vinnie know that I don't know anything about any Albanian. Pure and simple." He looked at Zippy. "Take him with you tomorrow, on that thing we talked about."

"No offense," said Zippy. "But he can't even change a tire let alone handle a boost."

"I can handle it," said Paulie.

"This one is hit or miss," said Eddie. "A long shot." He looked at Zippy. "Don't take any unnecessary chances. Walk if you have to."

"Goes without saying," said Zippy. 

"Go or no go, it's your call and your call alone," said Eddie. He looked at Paulie. "Two things. First, you do everything, and I mean
everything
Zippy tells you to do. To the tee. Got it?"

"Got it," said Paulie.

"And second, out little conversation here doesn't get back to Vinnie."

"Got that too," said Paulie.

*  *

Zippy told Paulie to wear a shirt and tie. A clip on, to look at legit as possible and not get it hung up on anything. They sat in the stolen Impala across from the Book Cadillac hotel. The hauler was parked near the main entrance. One BMW was already loaded. The driver walked down one of the ramps after securing it with the straps and frame chains. 

"This is where it pays to keep up on what's going on around town," said Zippy.  "Happens a few times a year, not only during the auto show. Manufacturers bring in their rides to show off and shuttle execs around." Zippy wiped the steering wheel with a moist towelette and handed one to Paulie. "If it happens, open up the door with this. Wipe it down. Outside handle too. No fingerprints." Zippy put the towelette on the console. "Commercial real estate convention this week. People in from all over the country. Draws top end car makers like flies."

The driver was eyeballing the cab when the valet pulled up in a 325i. The valet got out and left it running. The hauler driver got in, drove it up the ramp and secured it. The valet turned and walked away. The hauler driver hopped off the rig and looked at his watch.

"This is it," said Zippy. "Get out and wipe down. Put on your sunglasses and follow me."

They got out of the Impala and left the keys. They quickly wiped down the door handles and dropped the towelettes. Zippy glanced at Paulie. Cocky as he was, he pulled that off like a pro.

Zippy had timed how long it took for the valet to bring the cars. Nine minutes. Just enough time to circle the entire block. They crossed Washington in front of the hauler, turned left and walked toward State Street.

"We can make it around in six or seven minutes," said Zippy. "That'll give us two minutes to make a move. If it's clear, I'll drive. You ride shotgun."

"Okay, man," said Paulie, literally bouncing as he walked. "This is too fucking cool."

"Calm down," said Zippy. He noticed the handle of a pistol near on the left side under Paulie's belt.

"Did I tell you to bring a piece?" said Zippy. "Did I? You dumb fuck. Don't ever bring a piece unless I tell you to. I don't even have one."

"Just a little insurance," said Paulie.

"You do not, I repeat, do not, bring a piece on a boost like this."

They turned the corner onto State Street. About midway Zippy looked at his watch. Five minutes. "Breath deep," he said. "That's the first thing you gotta learn. "Be cool, and be aware. Look around without looking around. Notice everything."

"Okay, man, okay," said Paulie, breathing in deeply. They turned the corner onto Griswald. 

Zippy looked at his watch. Four minutes. "Let's pick it up a little."

They picked up their pace and a minute later turned the corner onto Michigan Avenue. As they passed the 24Grille the valet whizzed by in a 760Li. Zippy looked at his watch. He was off by a minute. "Let's move," he said.

They turned onto Washington and saw the valet step out of the BMW, leaving the door open and the car running. Instead of getting in the BMW, the hauler driver walked back to the cab, opened the door, stepped up and leaned in.

"Now," said Zippy. "Go."

They sprinted toward the BMW. Zippy hopped in the driver's seat and Paulie slid in the other side. Zippy slammed it in reverse then put it in drive and squealed around the hauler. The hauler driver stepped out of the cab holding a cell phone. He watched the BMW disappear down Washington.

Chapter 19

Amateur Night

"We could do something to the air conditioning," said Washington. "Or mess with the utilities to get inside."

Peabody shook her head. "No way. They'd read it like a book. If anything went south, air conditioner, lights, plumbing, name it, you can bet an Albanian contractor will be on the job. A trusted one."

"So what do we do? Let the court order go to waste just because we can't execute?"

 Peabody thought for a moment and said, "amateur night."

*   *

Washington picked up Peabody in the parking lot adjacent to the Bunker. He almost didn't recognize her. Her bright blond hair was teased out and sprayed, stripper style. She wore loads of makeup, reddish cheeks, dark blue eye shadow and thick black mascara. She had on a short rabbit fur coat stopping above her bare knees, and wore high platform shoes. 

Washington pulled beside her, reached over and opened the door. Peabody got in, her fur coat riding up her thighs. 

"Ready for this?" she said.

"I'm speechless," said Washington. "I'd take you for a stripper any day."

"Thank you," said Peabody. "That's the point."

They drove along Eight Mile towards the Tiger's Den. 

"It's pretty much the same everywhere, strip joints," said Peabody. "Amateur night is usually slow. Some regulars don't show up, cause a lot of the steady dancers bust their butts on weekends and have Monday or Tuesday night off. A lot are turning tricks."

Washington breathed in Peabody's perfume, smelled like roses and musk. She smelled good. Really good. "How come you know so much about strip clubs?"

"Worked in one when I was in law school. Made a ton of money."

Washington nodded. 

"Not in Ithaca, though," said Peabody. "Up in Syracuse. On weekends, sometimes on weeknights. I could make more in a couple of nights than any other part time job at the time. Plus, I didn't have to think. Get the basic pole moves down and just go on autopilot." She looked at Washington. "My stripper name was Penny."

"No problem taking your clothes off?"
"No big deal," said Peabody. "First time was a little shaky, but after that, no problem. Spent my time thinking about contracts and torts."

"What about tonight?" 

"I'll take 'em off if I have to," said Peabody. "I want that place bugged."

Washington watched the road. 

"We know the layout," said Peabody. "We'll order drinks, settle in, and you'll go to the men's room, right next to the office. Dragovic is a continent away so all we have to worry about is the staff. And the bouncer."

"Sounds pretty iffy to me," said Washington.

"If you have a shot at the office, take it. Put it under a desk or a chair if you can. If you can't get near the office, put it in the john. Maybe we can pick something up there."

Peabody looked out the window, seeing the darkened iron-gated storefronts pass by. "It's a long shot, but you never know. We might get lucky." She pulled the sun visor down and popped open the mirror, checking her makeup.

Washington pulled into the Tiger's Den parking lot.

"Ready for this?" said Peabody.

Washington nodded. They got out and walked to the entrance, under the buzzing neon sign. Washington held the door open for Peabody. She stepped through and scanned the interior. Three couples sat at small tables near the stage. One of the real strippers was onstage, Kool and the Gang thumping in the background. Four guys sat at the bar, along with a little guy in a wheelchair. Two regular strippers talked to him. The bouncer was talking to the bartender.

The couples near the stage watched the stripper, turning upside down on the pole, her dyed-red hair spinning. Peabody looked at the couples. She'd seen it before and was still surprised how many guys got off watching their girlfriends or wives dance naked.

Peabody and Washington sat at a table equal distance from the stage and the hall leading to the restrooms. The only barmaid working walked over, laid down a couple of cocktail napkins and said with an accent, "Welcome to the Tiger's Den. There's a two drink minimum."

Washington shrugged and looked at Peabody. "What'll you have?"

"Gin and tonic," said Peabody. "With lime."

"I'll have a PBR," said Washington.

The barmaid turned and walked toward the bar. Peabody looked at Washington. "PBR?"

"Hey. I've been drinking that
long
before it became hip."

The regular stripper ran off the stage. The lights started flashing and the bouncer walked on the stage and said in a thick accent, "welcome to amateur time." He looked at the couples. "Who go first?"

A woman at the middle table raised her hand and stood. The lights started flashing and the woman strolled onto the stage, overweight and wearing a bikini. Washington looked at her stomach folding over the top of her thong. She turned and wiggled her butt, rumpled with cellulite. She smiled, shook her hips, held her arm straight and pointed at her husband. Led Zepplin blasted in the background. Washington looked away. The barmaid came with the drinks and Washington paid her. 

The woman on stage gyrated around the pole, out of time with the music. She popped out of her top, pulled it off and tossed at her husband who whooped and clapped. He laughed and looked around at the other tables.

"Jesus," said Washington. 

Peabody leaned over. "They're called BBWs. Big Breasted Women. Some guys love 'em."

The woman pranced on stage. Peabody watched for a moment then subtly scanned the room. The bouncer patted one of the guys at the bar on the back then walked down the hall past the restrooms and toward the office.

Peabody nudged Washington. "The bouncer. Looks like he's headed toward the office. Give it a shot."

Washington got up and walked toward the hall. Peabody watched the woman on stage and bopped her head to the music.

Washington saw the bouncer inside the office as he opened the door to the men's room. The office was sparse- a wooden desk, leather swivel chair, a couple of filing cabinets and a sofa with a baseball bat leaning against it. The bouncer's cell phone rang and he pulled it from his pocket. 

Washington ducked into the men's room and waited, listening by the door. He heard the bouncer talking, but not clearly. He heard enough to realize the bouncer wasn't speaking English. The conversation stopped and a moment later the men's room door opened. 

Washington rushed to the sink and turned on the faucet. The bouncer gave him a look that he knew well, the
you're the wrong color,
what are you doing here
stare. The bouncer walked into the stall and Washington heard the toilet seat bounce off the rim of the bowl. The bouncer sat and let loose. Washington quickly dried his hands and walked out of the men's room. He looked around and went in the office, pulling the small bug from his pants pocket. He removed the waxy paper from the adhesive pad and placed the bug underneath the desktop overhang, feeling it set securely to the surface. He tried to wiggle it, but the bug held firm. Washington walked out of the office and heard clapping and yelling coming from the tables around the stage.

He turned the corner and saw Peabody stepping off the stage, putting her thin silky top on. The guys at the bar stood and clapped. So did the little guy in the wheelchair, who put two fingers to his mouth and whistled.