“Wasn’t particular,” Blackhawk said.
“But very successful. And, believe me, he’s a damn good dancer. He wouldn’t have any trouble getting any of the girls to dance. The older gals are for the money. The younger ones for recreation.”
“Even the homely ones.”
“They aren’t homely,” Pete said. “If I had to assign a characteristic, they are just young and awkward. They all lack a certain sophistication or sexual maturity the others have.”
“How do you know that?”
“You can tell. Sometimes how they dress. You know the girls that are out trolling, they dress like it. Also, I told you, I’ve spent a lot of time in Hollywood. There, the girls in the clubs are predators and they act like it. The girls this guy picks could have been just off the farm. New to college, haven’t been around much yet.”
“Does he always go to these same places?”
“Every weekend. The bartenders know his name.”
“Grover?”
“No. Tommy. Goes by Tommy. His credit card is Grover T. Hilland. I got a look at a slip while he was dancing. That’s how I found his Facebook page. No one named Grover Hilland is on the internet. But, Tommy Hilland has lots of friends.”
“Yeah,” I said, watching the boat disappear into the distance. “Tommy is a safe name. Nobody bad was ever named Tommy.”
“Tommy gun.” Blackhawk said.
“That’s a knee slapper.” I looked at Pete, “Does he hang with any guys?”
“Never saw it. He lives in a condo in downtown Phoenix. A high rise. Pays for parking in a parking garage. Except when he’s working or clubbing, that’s where he always is.”
Blackhawk stood. As he came out of his chair he looked lithe and smooth, like a cat moving. A big cat. He collected our empties and went to the ice locker located by the cockpit. He got three more beers, popped the caps and brought them back to us. The sun was almost down, some of the eastern stars were out.
“How are you going to take him?” Blackhawk asked, settling into his chair again.
“I haven’t figured it out yet, but I’m going to make him beg for it.”
“Greed,” said Blackhawk. “The guy likes having money, he just doesn’t want to work for it. They all want something for nothing. That’s why they do what they do.”
“There is an old adage, that the easiest guy to sell is a salesman, and the easiest guy to grift is a grifter,” I said.
“How are you going to get close to this guy. Close enough to draw him in, I mean,” Pete asked. “Like I said, he has no guy friends. While he’s at these bars he doesn’t talk to anyone, not about football, nothing. Just to the girls, and usually to the one he’s selected.”
“Yeah,” Blackhawk smiled at me. “How you gonna do that?”
I took a long drink, thinking about it.
“I’ll make him come to me.”
28
The first day the SanDunes reopened, Paz called Frank and me back to his office. Little Joe, Peggy and Wally Chen were there. It made the small room crowded. The guys had all the chairs, so I found a spot on the wall and leaned against it.
Paz glanced at me, then spoke to Frank, “I’m going to be using Jack, so you need to find another janitor.”
Oh, glorious promotion.
Frank grimaced then shrugged, “Anything else?”
“No,” Paz said. Frank turned and left.
Paz leaned back in his chair and looked at me. “I’m starting you at a thousand a week. You hang with Little Joe for a couple of weeks, then we’ll see.”
“Sounds good to me,” I said. “Thanks.”
Paz shrugged, like it was nothing, and to him it probably wasn’t. He turned to the other guys, “What’re we going to do about Pike?”
“Hit the son of a bitch,” Peggy said. “Take him out.”
“He’s ready for us now,” Wally Chen said. “They’re probably already moved out of that place.”
“Wally’s right,” Little Joe said. “It’s going to be tougher now.”
Paz looked at me, “What do you think?”
I shrugged, “What did you expect, shooting up their little clubhouse? You thought they’d just surrender?”
Little Joe shifted uncomfortably. Wally Chen looked at the floor. Paz held his gaze on me. After an uncomfortable silence Paz said, “So, what would you do?”
“Hold your friends close, hold your enemy’s closer,” I said.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Peggy said.
“Shut up,” Paz said. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of me. “Elaborate,” he said.
Elaborate? Wow.
“Germany and Japan.”
Now Wally Chen was looking at me like I was crazy.
I kept talking. “At one time, we were trying to destroy both of those guys. We beat the shit out of them, but now they are two of our closest allies in the world.”
Paz leaned back in his chair, watching me.
“I say we make Pike an ally.”
Paz looked puzzled. “How do we do that?”
“Make him an offer he can’t refuse. After we make it clear he can’t hide, and we make it clear we could cause him a world of hurt, offer to make him your partner. Throw a ton of money at him. Give him autonomy. Then, when his guard is down, take him out. Or, leave him alone if you want.”
“What’s that ah-tawn-no shit?” Peggy said.
“Autonomy, let him run his own shop,” Wally Chen said.
“This world of hurt,” Paz said. “How do you go about doing that?”
“You show him you are too big to whip. What’s he got? He has dealers in his area, moving grass and heroin and opioids? Like you?”
“He ain’t nearly as big as me,” Paz said.
“Of course. But he wants to be. But I’ll bet he knows he can’t win a full-scale war. So, we prove that to him. Hit his supply chain. Scare off some of his dealers. Take out a couple of his main guys. Then make him an offer he can’t refuse.”
Paz looked at Little Joe, “I thought you said this guy was just some bar bum.”
Wally Chen was studying me intently.
Little Joe shrugged his massive shoulders. “You never know.”
“I was in the service,” I said. “I did three tours in Afghanistan. I ended up a Sergeant in the M.P.’s. The Army is lousy keeping track of their supplies, so it was easy to siphon stuff off for a profit. I had a half million in a footlocker, then I lost the foot. They packed me up and shipped me to Germany, and I never saw the footlocker again. But, I saw a lot of tribal shit while I was over there. This is basically the same thing. The tribes that survived were the ones that banded together.”
Paz was thinking. “I like it,” he said. “I get us joined up, then I take the asshole out and I’m left with both pieces.” He looked at Little Joe, “What do you think of my idea,” he said.
“Great idea, Boss.”
“So, first we find out where Pike went,” Paz said. “Peggy, take Jack and go find out where Pike went.”
Peggy wasn’t happy about that. “Shit, Boss. Why me?”
Paz looked at him. He didn’t say a word, just a steady gaze.
“Shit,” Peggy said under his breath, struggling to his feet.
I followed him out. It was hot outside. The inside of the car was hotter. Peggy fired the vehicle up and turned the air on high. Peggy’s vehicle was a Chevy Tahoe. He pulled out of the parking lot and I asked him to drive by the boarding house. He looked at me. I said “Really, I need to stop.”
I gave him directions and he turned toward the boarding house. A couple of minutes later he pulled to the curb and I jumped out.
“Be right back,” I said.
A minute later I was back carrying my crutches. I’d also shoved the Kahr in the back of my belt.
When I put the crutches in the back-seat Peggy said, “What are them for. I didn’t think you needed them no more.”
I climbed in front and he pulled away from the curb. “My disgu
ise,” I said. “Pike and his guys all know what you and the rest of the guys look like. I’ll bet they don’t know me. And, no one pays attention to a cripple on crutches with one foot. I can get closer.”
Peggy was nodding, “Yeah.”
He drove another couple of blocks, then said, “You ain’t as dumb as you look.”
“Why, Peggy, you’ll turn my head.”
He glanced at me, “What’s that mean?”
I shook my head, “Nothing. It don’t mean nothing.”
“Just watch what you say, I don’t take no lip.”
“Yes sir.”
Forty minutes later we were two blocks from Pike’s place. Peggy had pulled into a lot and parked. I got out. I took my foot off and gathered up the crutches.
“I’ll be back,” I said, needlessly.
He didn’t say anything. I started down the sidewalk.
I went to the bus stop in front of Pike’s. I sat there like I was waiting on the bus. There was no one. No cars, no activity. Finally, I wandered around back on the pretense of checking the garbage bins. The stucco at the back of the place was chewed up by the automatic fire. The security lights were dangling. There were marks on the metal door. Other than that, there was nothing. Even the large garbage bins were empty. Of course, they could have been emptied this morning. I didn’t know the garbage schedule.
I hobbled back to Peggy.
I put the foot back on, the crutches in the back, and slid into the passenger seat.
“Nobody home,” I said.
He put the Tahoe in gear and pulled out on the street. He didn’t turn back toward the freeway.
“Where to?” I asked.
“Mr. Paz says go find them, we go find them.”
“You know where?”
“I know people that know where,” he said.
I grinned at him. “Yeah, we find one of his dealers. They’re going to know where to take the money. Hey, Peggy, you ain’t as dumb as you look.”
He didn’t look at me, “I told you I don’t take no lip,” he said.
29
I was sitting in the Mustang about a half mile down Scottsdale Road from the night club district with Nacho beside me. My phone rang. I dug it from my pocket. I was expecting a call but I didn’t recognize this number. I figured it to be a blind robo call. I connected and said “Yeah.”
“Jackson? Is this Jackson?”
I recognized the voice. “Father Correa, as I live and breathe.”
“How are you son? I haven’t heard from you in a while.”
“I’m fine, Father. Just chugging right along. What’s up?”
“Well, I thought I better call you. Our friend has flown the coop.”
“Reggie?”
“She was doing so well. Everyone liked her. Her quirky little personality. She loved playing with the babies. I had such high hopes.”
“What happened?”
He was silent a moment. “I should have been more vigilant. One of the downtown churches brought a new one to me. We searched her clothes like we always do. We didn’t find a thing. I had so much faith in Reggie, and we are so full, I bunked her in with Reggie. This morning I found the new girl stoned and incoherent and Reggie was gone. The new girl must have smuggled some crack or heroin in. I waited for Reggie to come back, but I’m afraid she probably won’t.”
“It’s not a prison,” I said.
“No, they are free to come and go as they please, I just had such high hopes.”
I don’t know why, but this wasn’t a shock to me.
“I’ll keep an eye out for her.”
“Are you still acting out your little charade?”
“I’m still Jack Summers. I’d prefer no one knows we know each other. Quite frankly, it’s safer for you that way.”
“Do you still have your Apache angel looking over you.”
“There is not an ounce of proof that Blackhawk has a drop of Native American blood in his veins, Apache or otherwise.”
He laughed, “Every man should have the chance to be whatever he wants to be. If you see the girl, try to get her to come back. We were making such good progress.”
“I’ll do what I can,” I said. He disconnected.
Nacho looked at me, “Who’s Reggie?”
I grimaced, “Girl I was trying to help.”
He leaned back and just looked at me. “Bring Jackson your poor, your huddled, your strung out and doped-up masses,” he said with a grin.
I looked at him, “That almost sounded educated.”
“Three years on the inside. I took history classes.”
The phone rang again. It was Pete.
“Hey Pete.”
“He’s gone inside the club.”
“We’re on our way. Give us five minutes, then come in behind us.” I disconnected. I pulled out into traffic and made my way to the club. We had to park two blocks away. The doorman stamped our hands after we paid the fee. He gave Nacho a long look.
Pete had said that Tommy always tried to get a table toward the back, as far from the dance floor as possible, so he could study the crowd. I spotted him. He was alone at a table for two. Behind him, and along the wall, was a bench upholstered in red vinyl. It was close enough, and it was empty. Without glancing at him I walked to the back and sat on the bench. I could have reached out and touched him. Everyone turned to look as Nacho followed me through the crowd. Here was a very big guy with long black hair. His shoulders were massive but his waist was small. He wore a wife-beater tee shirt that showed off bulging biceps covered with tattoos. And, to add to the dichotomy, he was carrying a briefcase. The music was pulsating as Nacho moved beside me and set the briefcase on the table in front of me. He leaned against the wall. Just far enough away to not be with me, but obviously there because I was. He made a point of studying everyone close by, just like a good bodyguard would.
A few minutes later a waitress came by. I ordered Johnnie Blue on the rocks. She looked at Nacho. He shook his head. Our boy Tommy never turned to show any interest in me, but I know he was aware of Nacho, and therefore aware of me.
Right on time Pete came through the door. This was the tricky part. I had to be close enough to Tommy for Tommy to be able to make out our conversation. And, we had to do it before he got interested in a girl.
Pete did good. He wore a suit that was too big, his hair was slicked back with a heavy part, and a pair of really nerdy glasses was perched on his nose. He sat next to me on the bench, close to Tommy. This meant I would have to turn and lean forward to talk with him, thus projecting our conversation to Tommy.
“I didn’t think you would be here.”
“Why would you think that?” I said.
“After I gave you the money, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
I saw Tommy shift imperceptibly, to be able to hear better.
“I told you this is legit. This ain’t no scam. This guy’s machine really works.”
“Did it work?”
I turned and looked at Nacho. He leaned down and popped the briefcase open. He withdrew a manila envelope. He handed it to me. I handed it to Pete. Again Tommy shifted ever so slightly. Seemingly for a better look at the dance floor. But, now he could watch us out of his peripheral vision. Pete opened the envelope and reached in. He pulled out a large stack of bills.
“Holy, shit! How much is this?”
“It’s what I told you,” I said testily. “It’s four times your money. That’s the going rate.”
“Four grand?”
“Five grand, counting your initial investment. You can count it if you wish, but you do that here, I can’t guarantee what happens to you once you step outside.”
Pete made a show of looking around. He stuffed the money back into the envelope.
The waitress came by, and I pointed at my empty glass. Pete shook his head. She looked at Nacho, but he was watching the crowd. She moved away. Tommy’s drink was still full.
“I still don’t get why you nee
d my money?” Pete said on cue. “Why don’t you do this yourself?”
I leaned back and drained my drink, the ice clinking against my teeth. The waitress brought the second drink and we were silent until she had moved away. I said, “The answer is simple. I don’t have enough money for the guys to make me a partner.” I leaned toward him, “Here’s what I figure. I figure you will give me back the five large that’s in the envelope and let me quadruple that. You see, you quadruple your money, but I take a large cut off the top. So far, this thing produces a lot more money than quadruple. Once I get a hundred G’s we’re done. That’s the price tag they’ve given me. Then I buy into the business myself.”
“How come no one else knows about this machine?”
I took a drink, “What my guy says is that people have been trying for a hundred years, but nobody figured it out till him.”
Pete pushed the glasses back up his nose, “I want to meet this guy.”
“No, you don’t.” I turned to look at Nacho. “You see this big guy?”
Pete leaned forward to look past me.
“This guy doesn’t work for me. The man with the machine works for a bunch of guys. An organization. The big guy works for them.”
“What kind of organization? Like the Mafia or something?”
“Make the Mafia look like Cub Scouts. These are guys that would chew me up and spit me out if I got sideways. They are letting me buy in because I did them a favor.”
“What kind of favor?”
“You ask too many questions. Let’s just say I’m an accountant. A damn good accountant.” I held my hand out, “You back in? Or, are you out?”
He studied me just long enough. He handed me the manila envelope. I handed it to Nacho and he placed it in the briefcase. I looked at Pete, “You leave first,” I said.
He stood without a word and worked his way through the crowd and out the door. I tossed a hundred-dollar bill on the table and stood. Nacho followed me out. As I turned to go through the door, past the bouncer, I glanced back. Tommy was watching us.
30
The first thing Paz hit was one of Pike’s meth houses. He was pretty smart about it. The house was located far enough north of Baseline that it butted up against what Paz considered his territory. This would be a message.
The Bag Lady, the Boat Bum and the West Side King Page 11