by Blake Banner
He studied her a long time with no expression on his face. Then he turned to look at me for a while, like he was reading a page of text. Finally, he drew a deep breath and looked away, up at the ceiling and the walls.
“Do you know, Carmen, what the most valuable commodity in the world is?”
“Look, Julio, if I want philosophy, I’ll read the Dalai Lama, don’t fucking philosophize at me.”
“I am serious. It ain’t philosophy. It is a commercial reality.”
She spread her hands. “Oil, coke, heroin. Go ahead, amaze me.”
He didn’t smile. He gazed at the guns on the table. “The most valuable commodity in the world is violence. Whoever controls the violence controls everything.” He pointed at her. “You got the full weight of the U.S. law behind you, so why you need that piece under your arm? And tell me something else, what is U.S. law worth, if it is not backed up by the threat of extreme violence? Law without violence is just rules, that any chulo can piss on. Whoever controls the violence controls everything: he has the power, he makes the law, he takes the money, he sets the price.” He looked back at the guns on the table. “Who do you think controls the violence here, Carmen?”
She made a face like she was weighing up the odds. “Given that you and your boys are a bunch of maricones, I’d say we do. But more important than that, Julio, is that maybe you were able to hide the deaths of two unknown kids for six years out in the wilds of Iowa, but given the report I sent my chief this evening before we went out, if I don’t call in tomorrow morning, you’re going to have not just the NYPD crawling all over you and your boys, you’ll have the Bureau crawling all over your ass too, like ants at a honey fest. And believe me, Julio, the federal government controls the violence, and they would just love to deploy some of it on you. So I would think very carefully before you reach for that weapon.”
He nodded a couple of times, like he was agreeing with some internal dialogue. He gave a small sigh through his nose and turned to me.
“All your family are dead.” He gestured at Dehan with his head. “This woman is your wife. You care about her? You looked pretty close comin’ into the parking lot just now.” He didn’t wait for me to answer. He turned to Dehan. “You? You still got family. You got uncles, aunts, cousins. Your cousin Rachel is married to that nice guy who works at the bank. They thinking of having a baby sometime soon? You know, really, family is a blessing.”
I said, “Stop.” He raised an eyebrow at me. It was as close as he had come to an expression since we’d come in. “We get the threats. We can’t call off the investigation, you know that as well as we do. But we can do a deal. Give us a fall guy. Finger the trigger men who shot Amy and Charlie. We’ll take them down and pull the investigation away from you and Feliciano.”
He snorted and curled his lip. “Chicken shit. You don’t set no fockin’ terms here. You back off. I don’t wanna hear no more about fockin’ Redferns, Pamela Albright or Amy an’ focking Charlie. You back away or people gonna start getting hurt.” He paused a moment. “You know? Is a long time since I gutted a woman. It’s nice. You wanna watch?”
“You made your point, Julio. Enough.”
“You want we should do it now?”
“Stop, before this gets out of hand. The investigation goes on. If we die, somebody else will pick it up, and you will be right in the frame. So the best thing for everybody is if you give us a fall guy. Name the guy who shot Amy and Charlie. You know as well as we do that we’ll find the DNA, and if he’s in the system, we’ll get him. If we catch him, the DA will offer him immunity. But if you hand him over to us, you can take out insurance. Be smart, Julio. Don’t be an asshole.”
Dehan didn’t wait for an answer. She stood and leaned over the table so her face was just inches from Camacho’s. I could see madness in his eyes and the boys were eying the Glocks on the table. Her voice when she spoke was steady and quiet.
“You think you control the violence, Julio, but you don’t. You’re just more reckless and careless about how you use it. You can kill me, you can kill Stone, you can torture us and chop us into little pieces to feed to your children. The bottom line is, it won’t make any difference. The State just doesn’t care. It will keep coming, throwing more men, more guns, more armored vehicles, more choppers at you—there is no limit, Julio. They won’t stop until they get you. And then they will crush you. Think about it. Ours is the only deal you’re going to get.”
I stood. She smiled at him. “You got my number, call me.”
We pushed out of the bar and Nestor and Gustavo, the Brain and the Beast, went back in. Dehan walked fast to reception. The spotty receptionist looked nervous. She reached across the counter with her right arm, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him to her. With her left, she shoved her badge in his face. “What room is the guy with the greasy hair in?”
He squeaked, “Two sixteen.”
She ran. I ran after her. We ran up the stairs and down the corridor to our room. There she unlocked the door and we pushed through. She was already on the phone as she pulled off her jacket. I watched her switch on her laptop and sit, mouthing at me, “Get the chief!”
“What for?”
“No time! Just do it!” Then she was talking into the phone. “Bob! Did you get the chief…? No, OK, never mind. Listen to me, we are going to have to bend the rules here a little. I’ll take full responsibility… I know, Bob, but there are lives on the line here, mine included.” She pulled the cell away from her ear, thumbing the screen. “These are the numbers, ready?”
She dictated a series of four cell phone numbers, then went on. “Also, the land line at room two sixteen, the Cobblestone Hotel, Vinton, Iowa. You are on the clock, pal. We have a couple of minutes. Connect me up…” She stared at the screen of her laptop. “OK, I’m up. You’re the best… Yeah, you too. Get on it!” She hung up.
I said, “Dehan, what the hell are you doing?”
She grinned at me. “When I went to the can, I collected my cell from reception. Then I called Bob, you know, the tech from the crime scene department? I told him to contact the Super and get authorization to tap these phones. He hasn’t got it yet, but we are out of time, Stone.”
“That’s an illegal tap, Dehan!”
“Only if they find out.”
“And how the hell did you get their numbers?”
“When I leaned over and gave Camacho a taste of Carmen Dehan attitude, I cloned his phone with mine.”
“Sweet Jesus, Dehan…”
It was like she hadn’t heard me. “So what happens next, we cannot use as evidence in court. As far as the NYPD and the court system is concerned, we do not tap their phones until we get authorization from a judge. But, I am damn curious to see what he does next, and who he talks to.”
I was shaking my head. “Dehan, what has gotten into you? You’re breaking the law! You’re a cop, for crying out loud!”
Before she could answer, we heard a buzzing from the laptop, then ringing and after a moment, a sleepy voice said, “Si, quien llama?”
“Cesar, soy Julio. Siento llamarle tan tarde. Escúcheme, Creo que tenemos un problema.”
Dehan said, “He says they have a problem.”
“Que problema, pues?”
“Dos detectives del departamento de Nueva York estan metiendo las narices donde no deben, vamos a tener que eliminarles.”
“Como quiere hacerlo?”
“Mejor me manda vos el Sicario. Que sea de fiar, y eficaz.”
“Lo mando llamar a Méjico, pues?”
“Si, mejor.”
“Que instrucciones le doy?”
“Ya se los doy yo. Que venga con la entrega el Jueves, con el vuelo a Bayerville. Yo estaré en el Rancho Beyer.”
“OK, jefe. Ya lo llamo ahora. Chao.”
“Chao.”
The line went dead. She remained frozen, staring at the screen. I waited. Finally, I sat on the bed and said, “You want to tell me what they said?”
&
nbsp; She looked up at me, searching my face.
“They’re making a drop on Thursday. Some kind of shipment, I’d have to guess coke or heroin. A plane is coming in over the border to Bayerville. I think that’s Arizona, on the border, right?”
I nodded.
She went on. “They have a ranch down there. So this Cesar is bringing el Sicario over from Mexico in the same delivery.”
“El Sicario?”
“It means the assassin. Julio is going to meet him there to give him his instructions.”
“What instructions?”
“To kill us, you and me.”
I went cold inside.
Then she gave a strained laugh. “Looking on the bright side, at least we’re safe till Thursday, right?”
I gave a small, humorless laugh. “Dehan, we call in back up. This is a major, federal operation now. It’s not just Amy and Charlie and trying to prove they’re connected to Feliciano Camacho. This is a major drugs delivery, and an international assassin targeting U.S. law enforcement. You proved your point and you made the connection.”
She stood and crossed the room, looking out at the small, scattered lights of Vinton. I said, “What the hell has gotten into you, Dehan? We have to call in back up!”
“It’s not that simple, Stone.”
“What do you mean, not that simple? How much simpler can it be?”
She turned to face me, but avoided my eye. “Well, for a start, Bob’s job is on the line.”
I sighed noisily. She went on:
“And so is mine, for that matter.”
“What got into you?”
She flared suddenly. “If I hadn’t done it, Stone, neither of us would know that there was an assassin on his way to eliminate us! Would that be a preferable situation? Huh?”
“No, of course not, but we have a responsibility, Dehan! We are officers of the law!”
“Great! We’ll die, but we won’t have broken the rules!”
“Stop it!
“Fine! But you stop it too! I’ve seen you break the rules when you thought it was right—more than once!—so stop lecturing me! I know these scum bags and I know what they are capable of, and I knew that we needed to hear what Julio was going to do next. You don’t want any part of it, that’s fine! Go back to New York!”
I went and took hold of her shoulders. “Dehan, stop… Nobody is going anywhere. It’s done now. We’ll have to deal with it. But stop going off at the deep end, will you?”
She nodded. “OK.”
“What is it with this case, Dehan?”
“Nothing! What do you mean? Nothing… Why would you ask that?”
“Dehan, I am not blind. You knew the Camacho’s life story like you’d memorized it. You are too emotionally invested in this case. This, what you’ve done tonight…” I shook my head. “It was wrong, Dehan!”
She rubbed her face with her hands, then placed them on my chest. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. But not now, Stone. We need to get some rest. We’ll talk in the morning, OK?”
I held her a moment, looking into her eyes. “OK, but we talk in the morning. This has got out of hand.”
“OK!” She nodded, then repeated more softly, “OK…”
FOURTEEN
I was awoken by Dehan sitting up. Dim gray light was filtering through the window. She had her back half turned to me, reached out with her left hand and patted my face and my arm, like she was groping in the dark.
“Morning, dear,” she said in a groggy voice. “Race you to the shower.”
After that, she walked unsteadily to the bathroom. The loud hiss of water followed, accompanied by some loud groaning which might have been relief, then a loud squeal, then a sigh of pleasure. After five minutes, the noises stopped. Two minutes after that, she stepped out, wrapped in a big white towel, with her wet hair hanging loose down her back. She was grinning.
“Was I noisy?”
“Yes.”
“Hot, cold, hot, cold. Really wakes you up.”
“So I heard.”
“Why are you sleeping in the bed, dressed?”
“Perhaps you don’t remember, the Camachos are borrowing an assassin from the Sinaloa cartel to eliminate us. I thought it might be smart to stay alert as you had passed out.”
“You were protecting me? That’s sweet.”
She was still smiling. I reached under the pillow and pulled out her Glock to show her. “Just as well. You were out for the count.”
“Go shower, Galahad. We have a busy day.”
When I came out ten minutes later, drying my hair, she was dressed and on the phone, sitting on the chair with her boots crossed on the table beside her laptop. Her voice sounded dead.
“…Yeah, I’m sorry about that, sir. I thought you’d be up by this time of the morning… Seven thirty. I’ve been up for over an hour, I guess I kind of lost track… Yes, sir. I’ll try not to, sir.”
I groaned silently and started to dress, listening to her as she went on with that ill-repressed insolence in her voice.
“Sir? May I explain? Only, perhaps we’ll finish sooner… Yes, sir. I will certainly try to be aware of my tone. Thank you, sir. We got back to the hotel last night and Julio Camacho was here… Yes, sir. Julio Camacho was at the hotel. With five of his men. He asked us to join him and they had three automatic weapons and a revolver set out on the table in front of us. He told us that we should desist from our investigation or they would kill me and my family.”
I pulled on my pants and as I was buttoning my shirt, she stood, paced the floor a moment, leaned her ass on the table with the phone to her ear and rolled her eyes.
“Yes, sir, I realize that is very serious, especially for me and my family. So, sir? We overheard some conversation…”
She went very still and very quiet. I watched her as I laced up my boots. She winced silently a couple of times.
“He told you, did he, sir? Sir, that wasn’t his fault. I should take responsibility for that… That is very big of you. Yes, sir.”
She walked away to the window. I heard her say, “Yes, sir, thank you sir,” a couple of times in a small voice and hang up.
I said, “Bob ratted on you?”
“Son of a bitch!”
“He did the right thing and you know it.”
She turned to face me. “Son of a bitch!”
“He probably saved your life, Dehan, my life and your family’s lives, too.”
“Shut up.”
“So what’s the deal?”
“He’s letting us off with a caution this time because of the value of the information we got. Bob was listening in and went straight to him with it. Woke him up.”
“He did the right thing.”
“I know. Stop saying that. The chief said next time, he’ll throw the book at us.”
“There won’t be a next time, Dehan!”
She sighed. “I know.”
“So what about Camacho?”
“The Superintendent is going to talk to the Phoenix FBI Field Office and get back to us. He figures this should be a fed case now. That means it will be their baby and if we get to go along, we probably go along for the ride.”
I shrugged. “For the bust, but we still get to interrogate them about Charlie and Amy, right? And that is our interest, after all. And you still get credit for busting the thing open.” She curled her lip, but before she could say anything, I added, “Plus, we get to go home alive, which in my book is a good thing.”
She sighed again, then smiled. “Your problem, Stone, is that you always focus on the small details.”
We went downstairs and Dehan went to the reception desk. The spotty kid was off duty and there was a blonde girl with freckles and a ponytail.
“You had some guests arrive last night. Four men in suits. Room two sixteen.” She showed the girl her badge and the girl smiled brightly at it. Dehan said, “They look like gangsters and they are. Are they still here?”
She gave her answer the
intonation of a question. “They left real early?”
“What about the other two?”
The girl hesitated.
Dehan sighed. “Yeah, the little one with gelled hair and the big gorilla. Suits, shades, hard asses.”
“They haven’t checked out yet. They’re having breakfast.”
We stepped out into the warm morning sunshine and started strolling toward the Jag. Dehan slipped on her aviators.
“I don’t want to tell you what to do, Stone. But you need to be armed, as of now.”
I nodded.
She went on. “And we need to get rid of these two jackasses. We can’t go to Phoenix with them on our tail.”
“Assuming we go.”
She frowned at me like she didn’t really understand what I’d said. “It’s going to be a twenty-four hour drive. I guess we could fly from Iowa City, but by the time we get there, book the flight, wait for the damn plane…”
“You want to drive to Arizona from Iowa. That has to be at least one and a half thousand miles, Dehan.”
“I know, Stone. I just told you, it’s twenty-four hours. But we don’t leave a trail. I don’t want to sit around in the airport like a couple of luminous dildos waiting to be spotted by Camacho’s goons. And believe me, they are going to keep tabs on us every damn step of the way, so they can tell El Sicario where we are when he arrives.”
We arrived at the car and she rested her ass on the trunk.
We stared at each other for a moment. Finally, I nodded. “OK. We need to shake these two and disappear. They have no idea we know about the shipment, so they have no reason to suspect we’re headed for Phoenix. So we pack up our stuff, stick it in the trunk, do a couple of figure of eights around the Iowa grid system and take off west. They can eat our dust. We could even drop the Jag in Albuquerque and rent a nondescript car for the rest of the drive to Phoenix.”
She stared at me for a long moment, chewing her bottom lip. Finally, she said, “Do me a favor, will you? Put your damned gun in your holster.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Just do it, please.”