The World in Reverse (22 page)

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Authors: Latrivia Nelson

BOOK: The World in Reverse
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“I guess you think that a gag order is something to play with,” Johnson said as the doors to the elevator opened on the fourth floor.

“I would have found a way to get the right information to the right people if he had been my partner,” she said, stepping off the elevator as a nurse ran past her. “What’s going on up here?”

“And what if your partner told you not to, would you still do it?” he asked seriously.  He already knew her type.  “Or do you know what’s best for everybody
even
beyond their own wishes.”

Their conversation was quickly cut short.  A woman’s voice echoed down the hall as she screamed out for her son.  DeMario.  As soon as they heard his name, they bolted towards the screams.  Following the sound of alarms bee
ping, they walked up on a team of nurses and doctors trying to resuscitate DeMario in his room.  His mother was standing outside of the door where she was being held at bay, crying and screaming.  Her eyes were red and covered in mascara that dripped down onto her cheeks in black dots. 

Johnson quickly walked up to her.  “Ma’am,” he said, getting her attention.  “Tell me what is going on?  What happened?”

“He just started to convulse,” DeMario’s mother cried.  “They said he looked like he was having an overdose, but he has been clean since he got in here. We both have.”

Johnson looked over at Steele who was tr
ying to squeeze her way inside the room to see what was going on, but some of the orderlies were blocking the door and keeping her from getting in.  “I’m a cop!” she screamed as if they actually cared.”

Johnson used the opportunity to find out as much as he could before she came to her sen
ses.  “Who has been here today that could have gotten him drugs?”

DeMario’s mother sobbed loudly as Johnson held her by the shoulders.  “His cousin Mooky came by and Councilman Ferris.  That’s it!”

“Mooky have a real name?” Johnson asked.

The sound of DeMario flat lining made Johnson turn around and look towards the door.  He walked up slowly, watching the nurses press the defibrillator against his boney chest.

“Clear,” the nurse nearly sitting on his chest said. 

The sound of electricity shocking his body was undeniable. 

“Overdoes my ass,” Steele said, pushing the chest of one of the larger orderlies as she tried to look inside.  “Someone had it out for him.”  She stepped back and kicked the wall.  “Fuck!”

“What?” DeMario’s mother said enraged.

“Does Mooky have a real name?” Johnson asked, pulling out his note pad. 


DeFarious Washington,” she said, wiping her eyes.  “Tell me what is going on,” she demanded
.

 

20

The golden sun had begun to set on the blue horizon by the time that Nicola put on his running shoes.  Stepping outside, he checked his back to make sure that his weapon was tucked carefully under his shirt and in his shorts, he slipped his ear plugs in his ears and then hit the pavement hard.  Running like he was charging toward someone, he headed down the drive and onto Peabody Avenue like he had done so many times before when he needed to sort things out in his mind. 

Quietly, Ivy watched him from the upstairs bedroom window as he disappeared from site.  She knew that he was beyond angry and that worried her more than he could ever know.  To their surprise, one of the sergeants from the Security Squad had been around just an hour ago to officially serve Nicola with papers for his hearing on the investigation.  They had beat on the door like they were going to knock it down and served him with his son in his arms. 

Nicola took the paper and closed the door quietly, then sent the children upstairs.  They had stood in the foyer for a few minutes in silence before he finally opened the envelope and read the papers.  Afterwards, he had passed them to her and told her that he needed to get some air.

He had told her a few nights before that he was out, but up until then she hadn’t realized that he was actually holding out for hope. 

His disappointment broke her into pieces.  She held back her tears only for him, because inside she was screaming. 

For Nicola this hearing meant a finality to his entire life’s work, where for Ivy it meant the beginning of a chance at a life together.  No more late nights of worry and wondering if someone would show up at her door apologi
zing for her loss. 

She knew that tomorrow, the powers that be were going to fire her husband.  And she knew that the world would be under the assumption that it was because he was a bigot, when in fact he had given everything to the entire Memphis community and he had done it selflessly not for her but for them.

And while she could handle a lot of things - Nicola moving forward with this investigation without the authorization to do so, the constant angst, and losing her job because those ungrateful shits cared more about their image than their employees–she could not handle her husband’s name being dragged through the mud and that’s why she had to do what she had to do just like he did.  She only hoped that he understood.

Grabbing her cell phone, when she was sure that he was gone, she dialed a friend at the local television station.  Her hands literally shook as she dialed.  Nervousness made her nauseated and a bit light headed or maybe that was the baby.

“Terra, hey it’s me,” Ivy said, opening the curtain to look again.  Her voice quivered.  Suddenly, she was incredibly paranoid and afraid.  This sounded like a good idea earlier today and now she was having second thoughts only because she was afraid of how Nicola would react. 

The reporter sounded relieved to hear Ivy’s voice. “Oh, shit, girl.  I didn’t think you’d call.  I’ve got my guy ready.  We are just waiting for your signal.” Papers shuffled in the bac
kground.

“Look, he won’t be gone that long.  You have to get over here right now with the camera if you want an exclusive.  Drive something other than that big ass van and park towards the back of the drive.”  Hanging up the phone, she took a deep breath.  “I can do this,” she said aloud. “I have to do this.”

***

Nicola felt the weight of the world on his shoulders as he ran.  Part of him wanted to cry; the other part of him wanted to scream.  There was no part of him, however, that felt like giving up and that’s all that mattered to him.

Nearly sprinting, he got just a second of clarity and realized that he was not alone.  Someone was running behind him, and they were gaining on him.  He turned down a quiet lane off the main thoroughfare and sped up.  The other runner did the same. 

Turning quickly down an alley, he ducked behind a tree and caught the guy as he passed it.  Pulling out his gun, he pointed it at the head of the man wearing a hoodie in the summer heat.

“Stop right there,” Nicola said, walking up closer.  “Turn around.”

The man did as he was told, holding his hands up in the air where Nicola could see them.  As he turned towards Nicola, took the hood off his head and slipped off his shades, Nicola lowered the gun.  “Shit, Amway, you scared the hell out of me.”

“Obviously,” Amway said, looking around.

“What are you doing here?”  Nicola tucked the gun back in his shorts.

“I couldn’t call, but I needed to talk to you.  Figured you would do the same shit you always do when you get pissed off.  Go for a run.”

Nicola wiped the sweat from his brow. “Yeah.” 

“Look, I have to make this quick, but I wanted to let you know man to man that the decision was not made lightly.”  Amway walked up closer to him.  Getting control of his breath, he wiped his mouth with his hand.  “In fact, it was one of the hardest decisions that I’ve had to back.”

“I’m no racist,” Nicola said quickly.

“You don’t think I know that?”  He put his hands on his hips.  “We busted our ass together trying to clean up these streets.  You had dinner with my folks, and Cara and I ate your wife’s nasty ass ravioli.”

Nicola smirked. “It is God awful, isn’t it?”

Amway laughed, happy that he still had a sense of humor.  “If you had done anything else, I could have found a way…” He took a deep breath.  “I’ve got the entire city against me right now, and I’m doing everything that I can to hold the department together.  I had to support this.  With the video and the facts, there was no other way.  But I’m man enough to tell you that I had to weigh in, and I’m man enough to tell you that I’m sorry but it had to be done.”

Nicola shook his head.  “Yeah, I know.”

“I know you.  Don’t pursue this case.  Just…take care of your family,” Amway urged. 

“I can accept that I just lost everything b
ecause of my own choices, but I can’t accept that whoever is responsible is just going to get away with it.”

“He didn’t get away with it,” Amway said, cutting him off.  “DeMario overdosed today at the hospital.  I’m surprised that you haven’t seen the news.”

“I’m sick of watching television,” Nicola said, unsure if he was relieved about DeMario’s death or more angered by it.  “Johnson didn’t call.  That’s not like him.”

“He’s chasing ghosts right now.  Steele is the lead on this…”

Nicola bucked his eyes.  “Steele?”

“Yeah, Magnelli backed her play,” Amway said with a smirk.

“Is he fucking her?” Nicola asked, shaking his head.  Unbelievable.

“Probably,” Amway said, looking at his watch.  “But she’s a good cop.  No matter what, she’ll do her job.”  He glanced around the alleyway again, knowing that he’d been there too long.  “Tomorrow, you’re going to lose your job, but that’s it.  You won’t lose who you are and you won’t lose all that you have done.  If you need anything…”

Nicola scratched his head at the words and growled. “I’ll call you if I do.”  He stuck out his hand.  “Thanks.”

“Take care of yourself,” Amway said, sha
king his hand. 

“You too,” Nicola said, watching him as he slipped back on his hoodie and ran back the way that he had come.

Watching his boss and his old friend run away from him was a sign on so many levels for Nicola.  It symbolized the end of an era in his life.  Everything that he had known would change.  Everything had already changed.  Before, he was a cop off duty dealing with demons.  Now, he was just a guy on a run with a gun on his person.  He had no one to call and no one to back his play.  Everything that he did would be up to him. 

“Alright,” he said aloud.  Knowing what he had to do, he put his ear buds on  and decided to take a longer run than  he had at first planned.  He was headed to see an old friend from his past, someone he knew could help him beyond the strict lines of the law. 

***

By the time that Nicola arrived at the Me
dlov compound nestled comfortably in the luxury homes community off of Walnut Grove, he was utterly exhausted.  Leaning against the high brick fence that kept the world out of the lives of the world’s most private crime family, he caught his breath and tried to get his thoughts together.  Before he could stand, an armed guard rounded the corner.  After speaking into his head piece, he walked up to Nicola.

“Keep moving.  You can’t stop here,” the man said with a Russian accent.

“This is the sidewalk,” Nicola said, standing up.  “It’s public property, asshole, and it’s paid for by my tax money.”

“Your tax money is about to pay for you to get fucked up,” the man said, stepping closer. 

Another guard rounded the corner quickly.  “He’s a cop,” he said to the other guard. 

The guard stepped back.  “What do you want?” he asked Nicola.

“I need to talk to Dmitry.” Nicola looked through the wrought iron fence and saw that a quarter mile up the drive there were five black SUV’s parked in front of the house.

“Mr. Medlov is not available,” the nearest guard said sternly as if Nicola’s mention of his boss’s name was blasphemy.

Nicola forced the point.  “Tell him that I’m here.  He’ll give me an audience.” He walked in front of the camera on the side of the gate so that the guard watching could see his face. 

“I don’t relay messages from pigs,” the guard answered quickly. “Now, take your tax paying ass down the street.”

Nicola bit back his immediate reaction and instead insisted again, this time with a lower voice.  “I’m not a pig,” he said, eyes narrowed.  “Now do yourself a favor and get on that earpiece and tell him that I’m here.”

The guard watched Nicola’s intense body language and stepped back.  Turning his back on him, he spoke in Russian over his earpiece to the person on the other end of the receiver.  A few seconds later, he turned back around and sucked his teeth.

“Follow me,” the man said, visibly agitated.

The large, elaborate gate opened and the three men began their trek up the long drive past other guards who were out on the grounds.  Nicola watched the men carefully, making sure to mind the gun pressed to his back. 

All the men watched him as he made his way up to the house.  Many of them knew exactly who he was and his reputation in Memphis, not only with the police department but in pursuit of their boss.  They found it odd for him to be here now, walking no less.  Curious eyes gazed out at him from all over the property.  They walked in pairs with fully automatic weapons in black tactical gear.  All of them Russian, all of them killers. 

When Nicola’s foot hit the top step of the Medlov’s palatial mansion, the doors opened and a butler ushered him in quickly.  He spoke in Russian as well, telling the guards were to take Nicola.

The mansion made his colonial-style home look shabby.  He had been there a few times before, once to arrest Dmitry Medlov.  He had come in with a team in the middle of the night and slapped the cuffs on him, but not before he had also pulled his beautiful girlfriend out of the tub naked and arrested her too.  None of the laundry list of charges had stuck.  In fact, Dmitry walked the very same night. 

He was certain that Dmitry had never fo
rgiven him for that, but here he was anyway, about to ask for his help.  The way that Nicola saw it, the most the man could do was turn him down.  But he had the distinct feeling that he would not.

“This way,” the guard said, walking out of the elaborate foyer down the left corridor. Nicola followed the man and the other guard followed Nicola.  Their footsteps echoed on the marble floor.  The ceilings were tall, nearly twenty-feet high and every few feet there were grand original paintings from all over the world.  This man, Dmitry, had built a decadent life for himself on the back of hard work, but his labor had been in arms dealing and the underground world of the mob.  He was the king of criminals, royalty of killers and thieves.  Yet, his world seemed better than most.  The sound of children playing somewhere in the house could be heard along with the laughter of young women.  The smell of fresh flowers in expenses vases filled the hallways with fragrant aromas.  And all around him was the distinct feeling of contentment.  Such strange bedfe
llows for under lords. 

It seemed to pay well to be on the other side of the law.  It seemed to be more rewarding.  At least from the outside.

The guard leading them opened the door at the end of the long hallway and stepped to the side.  Nicola walked into the study, another elaborately decorated room of dark wood, leather chairs, antique furniture, expensive rugs, art, books and large monitors that gave different vantage points around the compound.  A huge bay window with the view of the grounds in the backyard gave a picturesque view of a well-manicured lawn, masterful gardens of flowers, a white gazebo  covered in Ivy and low hanging trees. 

“Sit there,” the guard said, roughly.  He pointed toward a small sofa in the corner.

Nicola didn’t bother to answer the man with a smart-ass comment. The guy was just a worker, not even worth the extra effort.  But he did give him a look that let him know that he would have loved to punch him in the face. 

Taking a seat, he watched the guard close the door and stand in the corner of the room quietly waiting.

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