"If we go tonight, are you still up for this?" Carlos asked. He had suddenly developed a tic at the corner of his right eye.
"We haven't discussed price. The mayor said it was a paying job." I wanted to lock in a premeditated murder-for-hire solicitation.
"I asked around up in L. A. I believe ten thousand is a good number," he said, quoting the exact price from my Sammy from Miami meeting.
"That works."
Carlos put a brown paper bag on the table. It didn't look like money, so I laid my hand on top of it. I could instantly feel the contours of a small automatic under my palm.
"It's a six-shot Para Covert Carry with a three-inch barrel," he said, as his eyebrows did a little jig. "It's nontraceable, so drop it at the scene. Alonzo and Horace will cover you."
"I want the cash up front."
"Half now. Half when the job is done." Real pulled a fat envelope out of his pocket and slid it across the table. "That's five," he said. "The rest comes after proof of death. We good?" Twitching and jerking like a hooked flounder.
"We're good."
He slid out of the booth without another word and disappeared into the throng, leaving behind a cold street gun, five thousand dollars and the smell of cheap cologne.
"I hope this money isn't part of our cafeteria policing deal," I said. "I'd hate to pass half of it back up to the same guy who just gave it to me."
"All yours," Alonzo said.
He looked at his watch. "Okay, we got a tight timetable if we're gonna get this done tonight. Let's go."
Once Horace, Alonzo and I were outside, I stopped them.
"I need to hear how you guys think this is gonna work," I said.
"Rocky's gonna give a campaign speech tonight at a rally over in Municipal Park in Vista," Alonzo answered. "We wouldn't give him a rally permit for Haven Park or Fleetwood, so he's doing it over there. It's at ten o'clock. According to one of the phone taps we got on him, after the speech he's gonna visit his new girlfriend, that lawyer bitch we met at the jail three days ago. Rocky's got a secret fuck pad somewhere over in Fleetwood. We don't know where it is yet so we need to go to the rally, and once it breaks up we follow him to the tuna. That's where you do the job."
"I just shoot him? That doesn't sound too sharp. The guy's very popular. We need a good reason for the murder or this will never be off the six o'clock news. We need an old enemy or something."
"Rocky's got a lot of jealous girlfriends," Alonzo said. "We stage it to look like he got shot by this abogada, this Carmen Ramirez person. The story is she shot him, then shot herself, because he wouldn't stop seeing that reporter, Anita Juarez. A classic taco triangle. You leave the gun in the dead bitch's hand. It goes into the books as a murder-suicide."
"Thats still a tad loose, guys. What about forcnsics? Blood splatter? My hair and fiber?"
"None a that shit matters," Alonzo said. "After you shoot him, you call a guy I got waiting by a phone. He'll make the 911 call in Spanish. Since you're gonna be the first blue on the scene, your hair and fiber aren't a problem. After the department puts out the shots-fired call, you grab it, then ask for backup. Me and Horace roger that. We all work the case together. Talbot Jones will handle the one-eighty-seven investigation. It's gonna go down the way we want and get booked exactly the way we say 'cause we're the ones working the crime scene."
"It's starting to sound a little better," I said.
"Good. Now get in the Escalade."
I climbed in and Horace piled in behind me. Alonzo pulled out of the parking lot and headed back into Haven Park.
"I thought you said the rally was in Vista," I said. "We're going the wrong way."
"Gotta stop at the station first."
"How come?"
"Before you do this, you've gotta take a polygraph."
Chapter 39
As soon as we pulled into the parking lot of the Haven Park PD, Alonzo and Horaee got out of the Esealade. I just sat there. I was almost certain that Alexa and Olivia hadn't had enough time to locate and block the polygrapher. While I was trying to figure out what to do, Alonzo jerked open the passenger door. "You coming?"
"Yeah," I said as I climbed out, "but is this really necessary?"
"The mayor wants it," Alonzo said. "He's a cautious guy. So lets just get it done. That way we all know there's no rats, okay?"
"Okay."
The three of us walked into the station. From the look of the lobby, the swing shift was having a busy night. There were half a dozen tense brown faces — mostly women. Mothers and girlfriends sitting in worn leather chairs, their knees tight together, clutching worn fabric purses, waiting for ugly news about loved ones courtesy of the corrupt Haven Park PD.
I followed Alonzo into Talbot Jones's empty office.
"We're gonna do it in here," he said.
He picked up the phone and dialed an extension. "There should he a guy out there from FSA. That's Electronic Systems Analysts. He's a polygraph operator. Hunt him up and send him hack to Tal's office." After he hung up he said, "Who wants to go first?"
I certainly didn't. I had a wide, dishonest smile that felt like I'd borrowed it from a drugstore Halloween rack. Horace Velario was still staring at me suspiciously.
Alonzo picked up the phone again. "Let's go. Where is the guy? We need to be over in Fleetwood by ten-fifteen." He listened, then said, "You can't be serious!" He slammed clown the phone and left the office without saying anything.
Velario continued to stare at me.
I endured his gaze for almost half a minute. Then I said, "My fly open?"
"You need to know how it is with me and Alonzo," he finally said. "We played high school football together at Long Beach Poly. The press called us Omelet and Toast. I was Omelet. Weak-side linebacker. They called me that 'cause when I hit somebody I scrambled their eggs. Bell was on the strong side and made the toast. We were fucking dangerous. You didn't want what we were dishing out. Between the two of us we logged almost two hundred tackles our senior year."
"That's real nice," I said, tuning him out. My mind was elsewhere, trying to come up with a way to avoid taking the damn polygraph.
"The reason I'm boring you with this shit is you need to know that since then, I never stopped watching Al's back. He looks big and tough, but underneath all that he's got this dumb trusting side, which dickheads always try and take advantage of. When that happens, I scramble up an omelet. My job over the years has been to pick off the bullshitters. Fve been looking at you for two clays now, and I've come to the decision that you're a lying sack a shit."
That got my attention.
"You're the fucking mole," he said.
"You need to stop taking yourself so seriously," I responded. "This isn't the Long Beach Poly defensive backfield."
"I told Alonzo you're the rat, but since he vouched for you with the Avilas, it's in his best interests for you to be okay, so he don't believe me. But I'm still over here covering the weak side, just like always."
"You were there in the orange grove," I said. "He fired a shot at me. If I was the mole, I would have talked."
"I'm not saying you don't have balls, Scully. I'm saying you're a spy."
"You're probably gonna have to prove that."
"I don't gotta prove shit. This fucking poly is gonna do all the proving for me. You fail, you're gonna go outta here feet first."
Just then Alonzo came back through the door. He was pissed, on the verge of losing it, his brown complexion red with anger.
"Fucking guy isn't here!" he shouted at us.
Alonzo pointed at Horace. "Call Tal. Use the WC's office. Tell Captain Jones the polygraph examiner is a no-show. He booked this guy. Have him get on the phone to FSA. He needs to get the man here now. We need to be out the door in twenty minutes."
Horace shot me a hard look, then exited the office.
Alonzo paced around the room fuming. "Fucking civilian agencies. We used to have our own poly guy, but now because of budgets we're subcontracting
all this shit out."
Two minutes later Horace was back. "Talbot can't reach ESA. Their phones go straight to voice mail. He says he don't have no personal contact number on the guy they assigned to us."
Alonzo stood in the center of the office for a long moment, then he looked at his watch. "Okay, then we gotta go without it. From here out, we do this as a team. Once it's done, the conspiracy to commit guarantees everybody's silence."
"I'm good with that," I said.
Horace said nothing, but kept his gaze on me.
"Let's go," Alonzo said. "We got no time left."
We headed back to the Escalade and squealed out of the police lot. We hit Lincoln Boulevard chirping rubber.
Chapter 40
By the time we arrived, close to a thousand people were gathered in the park. A balmy Southern California night undoubtedly helped Rocky s turnout. The twenty sheriffs from the Vista substation could easily have been overmatched by the crowd, but everybody was in a festive mood.
High school bands from Haven Park and Fleetwood were playing Mexican and American music under the parks sulfurous halogen lights. A large platform had been constructed and was festooned with ROCKY FOR MAYOR signs. Campaign posters depicting the candidate stripped to the waist, fists high, ready to vanquish Haven Parks corrupt politicians were stapled to every available wooden post and palm tree. Volunteers circulated through the crowd selling ROCKY FOR MAYOR T-shirts and baseball caps.
When we pulled in, Alonzo couldn't find a place to park.
"Lookit all this illegal parking," he growled. We oughta get the Avilas over here to tag and drag a few of these rust buckets."
Except we weren't in Haven Park or Fleetwood and Vista was policed by the sheriffs department, which had banned Blue Light from operating inside the city limits.
Finally, in frustration, Alonzo pulled up over a curb and left the Escalade on the grass. He draped his handcuffs over the steering wheel, the universal warning that this was an off-duty cop car, then chirped his locks. Horace and I followed him across the grass toward the bandstand.
A Mexican radio station had supplied a few popular disc jockeys who, along with an assortment of local politicians and minor celebrities, were onstage speaking in both English and Spanish, whipping up the crowd over the loudspeakers.
At that point, a beautiful woman stepped to the microphone and was identified as Anita Juarez from the Haven Park Courier. Oscars second cousin and one of Rocky's girlfriends.
As she began to address the crowd, Alonzo, Horace and I finally reached a spot near the east side of the bandstand. "Can you believe this?" Alonzo said, surveying the large turnout. "This fucking guy wasn't even that good a fighter. They act like the little shit walks on water."
Alonzo told us to wait where we were and went off to do something, leaving Horace and me angrily bumping shoulders in the confined space.
"It's not my fault the polygrapher didn't show," I said into Velario's flat glare. "Get over it."
"You're gonna kill Chacon tonight or I'm gonna drop you like a sack of hammers," he threatened.
"You wanta take a step away? You're on my foot." I shoved him back. He was a big guy, so he didn't move far, but the push definitely pissed him off.
At ten-twenty the mayor of Vista introduced Rocky Chacon. He walked across the podium dressed in slacks and a polo shirt. Kvcn before he spoke, the place went nuts. Me struck his classic fight pose and they screamed even louder.
As this was happening, Alonzo returned. "I found his ride," he shouted oxer the racket. "A five-year-old black Mercedes 220 behind the barrier in the park maintenance area. After lie's finished speaking, follow him over there and keep him in sight. I'll pick you up." Me handed us each a ROCKY FOR MAYOR ball cap that heel bought from a vendor. "Disguise," he said with a grin.
"Hola, companeros," Rocky shouted into the mike.
"Hola, Rocky!" the crowd shouted back.
"Como estan ustedes esta noche?"
"Muy bien, hermano," the crowd roared.
"'Tonight I will first speak to you in English. Then, for my brothers who just got here, I will talk again in Spanish." 'The crowd cheered.
"I came here tonight to tell you why I have decided to run for mayor. It is very simple. Haven Park and Fleetwood are run by criminals. Their only desire is to prey on you, taking advantage of your families. We must put an end to this corruption and vote these criminals out of office. Six days from today, this can happen. Six days from today we can send a message that will begin a new-life for all of us. This is America. In America, unlike Mexico, the government exists by and for the people. The kind of government I intend to run will be by and for each and every one of you."
"Me better have a damn good plan, 'cause he's gonna be running his government from inside a fucking coffin," Alonzo whispered into my ear.
Rocky told the audience how he would end corruption. He promised that no extortion would happen in his Haven Park administration. He promised to fire the entire existing poliee department and give the job back to the L. A. County sheriffs who had policed both towns until Mayor Bratano had been elected and had canceled the contract, forming his own department made up of police rejects. He said the corrupt Haven Park PD was little more than the mayor's goon squad and vowed that after he was in office the residents of Haven Park would be treated with respect, that his door would be open to any grievance. The crowd went wild. When he finished, he gave the speech again in Spanish.
By eleven o'clock, the rally began breaking up. The bands played "The Star-Spangled Banner" and the "Himno Nacional Mexicano." People waved Mexican and American flags and cheered.
Rocky jumped down off the platform and waded into the screaming crowd, shaking hands. He hugged people and they shouted their encouragement. He was surrounded by well-wishers on all sides. As he passed us, I could see inspiration and hope shining in his dark brown eyes.
Chapter 41
I followed Rocky through the crowd, with Horace right on my shoulder, never more than a footstep away. The little fighter was being stopped constantly by admirers.
"God bless you," one elderly Hispanic woman said as she took his hand in both of hers. "You have come to save us."
"Mama, you vote for me and we will save each other," Rocky answered.
It took him almost a full thirty minutes to make his way to the staging area where his Mercedes was parked.
We hung back and tried to remain inconspicuous, which was nearly impossible for two Anglos in a park full of Hispanics. We both had our new ROCKY FOR MAYOR ball caps pulled low over our eyes.
We tailed along a few yards behind Chacon until we readied a wooden barrier that had been constructed to partition vehicles with special passes. Two large sound trucks were parked among the VIP cars. After Rocky got into his old Mercedes, we made our way over to the white Escalade parked nearby and climbed inside.
This nimrod actually thinks he can just waltz in here and take this" Horace growled. Then he pointed at Rocky's departing sedan. "He's pulling out."
Through the back window of the old Mercedes, we could see that Rocky was alone. We slid out into traffic and followed him, staying a block back, as he drove down Scout Avenue, then turned onto the bridge that spanned the L. A. River, heading into the neighboring town of Fleetwood.
"Okay, Shane, heres the 4-1-1," Alonzo said as he drove. "Dirty Harry reassigned you, Horace and Roulon Green to the swing shift. As of tonight you're all on the deployment sheet for Fleetwood. Roulon is waiting over here somewhere right now with your black-and-white. As soon as we locate Rocky's fuck pad, I'll radio him and he'll drive your unit to a spot near the apartment. Thats where we'll meet up. Then you walk back, sneak into Rocky's place and double-tap those two. Your squad car will be parked out front of his apartment waiting for you when you come out."
"We're rushing this," I said. "If I'm on patrol, I can't show up in civvies."
"It's covered. I got both your uniforms out of your lockers. They're stashed in the black
-and-white. You two change into your Class C's when we meet up with Roulon. After you do the job, you call dispatch and ask for backup. Horace and I will roger the call and the three of us will lock down the crime scene and hold it for Captain Jones, who will handle the one-eighty-seven investigation."
"I'm going with Scully," Horace interjected.
"No, you're not," I replied.
"I'm going with you," Horace reiterated. "Get used to the idea. Fin gonna be there to make sure you do what you're supposed to."
I'm not taking a fucking observer," I said lightly. Our voices were now rising in anger.
"Calm down, both of you," Alonzo ordered. Then he glanced over at me. "He's right. We agreed, since there's 110 poly, we're stuck in this together. If Horace wants to back von up, what's the big problem?"
"The problem is I don't want him. I don't like him."
"I told you Scully was dirty," Horace challenged. "He doesn't want me there 'cause he's not gonna do it. I keep telling you he's our rat."
"Velario s going with you," Alonzo snapped. As far as he was concerned, the subject was closed. I let it drop.
Alonzo continued to follow the black 220 across the bridge into Fleetwood. After going about a mile, Rocky made a left, passed three intersections, and then pulled up to a building on the corner. It was a big boxy apartment with the architectural significance of a parking garage in Watts. A sign on the roof identified it as the Garden Apartments. I could see 110 gardens, just a strip of dead grass out front.
Rocky turned his 220 into the underground garage using a security card, which opened the sliding gate. Then the little Mercedes sedan disappeared down the ramp, flaring red from its taillights.
Alonzo continued past the apartment complex and hung a U-turn in the middle of the street that went north. He triggered a hand rover as lie drove. "R. G., we'll meet you on the seven hundred block of Walnut Street."
I heard two static squelches as Roulon triggered his walkie twice to indicate an affirmative.
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