“Good. Where’s the bathroom?”
RJ nodded toward the next room. “Right in there. Better hurry, though. Wouldn’t want you shit your pants, or nothin’.”
“And have to tell all my friends I was just like you, you inbred mongoloid idiot? Smoke another joint. Guy like you, it’ll raise your IQ.”
As Adrian entered the bathroom and shut the door, he could have sworn he heard someone mumble something about a ‘dickhead yankee’ from the next room. Not that it mattered. His primary concern at the moment was to part with whatever he’d eaten earlier that wasn’t agreeing with him. It would also give him a welcome separation from RJ.
***********
Parked a hundred yards away in a black Corvette, agents Bobby Russo and Lenny Fernandez had a clear view of Room 217, and had watched Adrian enter.
Fernandez had groaned as the door had closed behind Adrian. “Adrian Cabraal going to Angelo Bultaco’s motel room with a big black suitcase.”
A moment later, Angelo drove into the lot, and climbed out of his rental car, carrying a pizza. “And there’s Bultaco. You got to be kidding me.”Fernandez took some more pictures through a telescopic lens.
Russo lamented, “Where’s a search warrant when you need one?”
***********
Adrian came out of the bathroom just as Angelo entered with the pizza. “Gee, thanks, Angie. You didn't have to do that for me.”
“Don’t worry, I didn't. Everything go okay?
“Yeah, money's on the bed. Million and-a-half.”
RJ motioned toward the suitcase. “You mind?”
“Mind what? It’s all there.”
RJ snickered as he opened the suitcase, which was filled with packets of hundred dollar bills. “Yeah, well your math and my math may or may not agree with that. Think I’ll just go ahead and check it out anyway.”
“If your math and my math agreed, there’d be a lot less underage mothers running around out there. But go ahead, suit yourself.”
RJ’s humor was nowhere to be seen when he stood and leveled an icy stare at Adrian. “I don’t need your permission, Bad Boy. I’ll do whatever I want. I’m doing it because it don’t look like no million and a half to me.”
RJ began counting. Adrian, insulted that his integrity had been questioned, looked inquiringly at Angelo, who simply waved it off as if to say, ‘Let him’.
Adrian watched as RJ counted, resentment building as each stack was checked, then placed with the others. When he was done, RJ stood up and announced his tally. “Seventy stacks of twenty grand don't add up to no million and a half. Where's the rest, Bad Boy?”
Adrian moved quickly. “Even a dog has more sense than bite the hand that feeds it...” Adrian swept RJ off his feet and onto the floor in a movement so swift that it stunned both RJ and Angelo. Kneeling on RJ’s chest, Adrian slapped him hard across the face, and put the .357 to his head.
“That's it, Adrian! Enough!” Angelo said.
Adrian shook his head. He wasn’t open to admonitions. “I keep telling you, Angie, he's no good. But you won't listen, so now I'm going to show you.” Adrian popped the cylinder open, letting the bullets fall into his free hand, then stuffed them in his pocket. He then snapped the cylinder shut, spun it, and jammed the barrel in RJ's mouth.
“Got one round left, my friend. You're gonna tell me the truth, or we're gonna find that round. When I walked in here, that money was right. Where's the rest of it?”
Though faced with impending death, his contempt for Adrian was so overpowering that RJ spat the words around the gun barrel that had been stuffed in his mouth.
“Bullshit! You tried to rip us off!”
Adrian slowly cocked that hammer, and then pulled the trigger. CLICK. Nothing happened. Even so, RJ's defiance quickly turned to disbelief.
Adrian looked down at him, reading RJ’s newfound attitude correctly. “One down, five to go. What'd you do with the rest of that money?”
His voice muffled, and with saliva on the gun barrel, RJ blurted, “Angelo, he's tryin' to cheat us! Stop him!”
Without giving Angelo a chance to respond, Adrian said, “Okay, have it your way.” And pulled the trigger again.
CLICK. Nothing this time, either.
Angelo had always known Adrian to be pretty laid back, but this was a side he’d never seen before. Fearful Adrian would do something that would get them sent away for life, he said, “Adrian, knock off the bullshit!”
Adrian wasn’t about to be deterred. “One of us is a thief, Angie, and I want to make sure you know which one it is.” Then, to RJ, “Okay, country boy, here we go again. Where'd you put it?”
Ever defiant, RJ spat out the only thing that came to mind. “You’re out of your mind, Cabraal!”
Cold and dispassionate, Adrian said, “Wrong answer,” and he pulled the trigger again. CLICK. Nothing happened, but this time RJ's eyes filled with terror.
“I didn't take it! Honest!”
“No, not honest. And you're starting to piss me off.”
CLICK. Nothing again.
Even Angelo, despite all he’d seen and done over the years, became a believer. “Adrian, I'm not asking you, I'm telling you -- knock off the bullshit!”
“I will, Angie. Just as soon as he remembers where he put that money. Maybe this time I should put a pillow over his face—you know, just in case.” Adrian cocked the hammer. Sweat had beaded on RJ's forehead. His body began to convulse, and he was on the verge of gagging. Bile started to trickle from his mouth. In sheer desperation, he pointed toward the desk.
Choking, he blurted, “Under the bag in the trash can!” Adrian slowly rose from RJ's chest, keeping the gun trained on him. Moving to the trashcan, he picked it up and emptied it on top of the bed. Five packets of money tumbled out.
“...and one hundred thousand makes a million and-a-half.” Turning to Angelo, he added, “Like I said, one of us is a thief.”
Any compassion Angelo might have had for RJ drained from him. Trembling with rage, he stood over RJ. “I should shoot you dead, right here and now. Get out! Get the fuck out, and don't ever let me see you again, or I will kill you!”
Riddled with shame and fear, RJ shot Adrian a venomous look, then bolted before Angelo changed his mind.
“Ungrateful son of a bitch! After all I did for him, he’s lucky I’d don’t whack him.”
Adrian placed his hand on Angelo’s shoulder. “That would be a waste of time. I mean, all he did was lay down for a guy with an empty gun.” He pulled the magnum’s trigger several times before opening his other hand, revealing all six bullets.
***********
Outside in the Corvette, Agents Russo and Fernandez maintained their surveillance. Both of them sat up when they saw RJ bolt from the room and slam the door behind him. Fernandez immediately began snapping pictures as RJ stormed down the stairs, jumped in the rental, and screeched from the lot.
“There's an unhappy guy,” noted Russo, taking down RJ’s plate number. “And another happy face smiling for the camera.”
Chapter Eight
A week later, Adrian and Jennifer still weren't sleeping well. Try as they might, they couldn't get Andy to sleep in his own bed. The gunshot, the look on Adrian’s and Jennifer's face, and his shock at their reaction to what he’d done had been immortalized in his mind. As a result, he’d spent the previous three nights in their room.
When the phone rang at six AM, the intrusion in their already troubled lives was particularly unwelcome.
Adrian reached for the phone. "Hello.”
"Wake up, ya lazy bastard. It's the middle of the day and you have things to do."
"Hi, Angie. What's up?"
"I thought it might be time for me to pay you another visit. You and yours up for it?"
"I don't think so. Bad things have happened and there’s a heat wave going on. The weather wouldn’t agree with you. As a matter of fact, I going to go on vacation until the air cools."
"Maybe you should grab y
our wife and kid, and come down here. No business, just pleasure. You know, Disney World."
"I appreciate the offer, but I want to work on my home life. It's taken some heavy hits lately."
"Yeah, I hear ya."
"Charity begins at home, and we're running a little low. Once I know where I stand, I'11 give you a call."
"Good enough, I'11 be ready when you are."
"Thanks, Angie."
Adrian breathed deeply. The thought of not having to set up another deal was a relief. No more risks, no more guns, no more gunslingers, no more bullshit. He felt as if a piano had been lifted from his back. He should have done this long ago.
He hung up, then rolled over. Jennifer was staring at him.
"Was that him again?" she asked.
"They never stop trying. You heard what I told him."
"It didn't sound permanent," she said.
He could sense her anger rising. "It's permanent, he just doesn’t know it. Like I said, it's not going to be easy. I'll have to go slow while I disengage."
"Are you really getting out?"
"After the other night?"
She seemed to relax, and then nodded toward Andy who lay asleep near the foot of their bed. "If he wasn't here I'd give you some candy."
He leaned close and kissed her. "You and Andy, and peace in our home, is enough."
************
Bobby Russo grinned when Fernandez strolled into the office. His condition had continued to improve to where he only needed occasional checkups. Not only was Russo glad to have him around again, Lenny's return would also get them back on the streets.
"Ready to hit it again?" asked Russo.
"You kidding? I had all the needles and tubes and enemas I want for one lifetime, especially the enemas. I was beginning to think I willed my body to science.” Looking around, “Where's Serrano?"
"He went to Miami for the weekend."
"What's in Miami?"
"Said he'd be coming back with a surprise. You know him and his secrets."
"So bring me up to speed. What have we got going on?"
"We think we've stumbled onto something in Lawrence."
"Adrian Cabraal?"
"Right. I've been researching him, and he's tied up with more bad guys than you can count. He’ll lay a lot of golden eggs for us if we can flip him."
"Anybody we know?"
"Lester Sims, for starters. Sims' is plastered all over Cabraal's phone bill. Then there's Domenic Burgos, from down on the South Shore. We've been trying to set up Burgos for over a year. No one's been willing to help us, or even talk about him in front of the grand jury. He'd be a major plum if our boy Adrian decided to cooperate.
"Now, try this one. Sylvester McCallum, alias 'El Sebeh.' Even though he’s home grown, he started a group that wants to overthrow half the governments of the civilized world. Thinks it’s a world wide conspiracy to oppress people. They’ve hit armories and gun stores, and then sold their goods to anyone who can afford them, especially gang bangers. When the munitions business is slow, they deal in drugs, mostly cocaine and pot. ATF and the FBI would owe us a big one if we could hand them Sebeh.
"Those are just a few of the people he could give us. There are mob guys, and a lot of distributors. If that's not enough, he’s plugged into some professional ball players, too. Cabraal's phone bill has three of them on it, including one that will probably make it to the Hall-of-Fame.
"We also connected him to a massage parlor in Boston. The guy who owns it is a wiseguy from the North End. This guy could keep us busy for a long time. I don't understand how we missed him. He has to have been around for years to know all these people."
"He’s got a knack for meeting all the right players," said Fernandez. "Doesn't really matter any more. He’ll be ours pretty soon."
Fernandez shifted gingerly in his chair. The wounds had healed sufficiently for him to get around, but there was still some residual soreness. "If these guys weren't so greedy, they'd get in and get out before we wised up to them. But they don't."
"It takes time to develop good contacts," said Russo, downing the last of his coffee. "No one jumps in at the top."
"Yeah, well, I'm ready to jump back in anywhere I can," said Fernandez. "I've been going stir crazy.”
Just then Serrano walked through the door, followed closely by a lean, hard-looking man whose eyes darted warily around the room. After taking in his surroundings, he looked suspiciously at Russo and Fernandez.
Russo and Fernandez immediately recognized him, but were surprised by his unexpected presence in their office. Nodding to Serrano’s companion, Russo asked, “What gives?”
Serrano shrugged. “Seems our friend here had a fugitive warrant for accessory to murder. Once I told him what his options were, he was convinced he needed a friend. He’s already given me enough informal information to get indictments on our friends Misters Cabraal and Bultaco.”
Serrano led his restless companion over to Russo's desk. The two agents sized him up at a glance, their street savvy and gut instincts guiding them. Within seconds, they came to regard Serrano's tagalong with as much suspicion as he felt toward them.
Serrano noticed the unspoken exchange, and ignored it. No sense getting off to an unhappy start. Projecting an air of confident enthusiasm, he said, "These are agents Russo and Fernandez. They'll be working closely with you while you're here. Gentlemen, this man has been kind enough to offer us his assistance in the Adrian Cabraal investigation. His name is Randy Jenkins, but you can call him R.J."
************
Adrian squinted at the clock on the nightstand. Nine-thirty in the morning. Not bad. Little by little, life was returning to normal now that he was out of the business...and off the cocaine. Initially, backing away from the white powder had been surprisingly difficult, but it was getting better as the days passed. Saying no to the people he'd been doing business with had gotten easier, too. At first it had been a struggle, telling them he was taking time away. They had become spoiled. Their urgings and the lure of fast, easy money in large quantities were powerful. But looking back to his experiences, the weapons, the late nights, the hurt, frustrated looks from Jennifer, and how easily Andy might have killed himself made it easy to 'just say no'. He had to keep those things first and foremost in his mind. And the excuse would always be the same: he was on hiatus.
He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stretched lazily, having just awakened. He felt good. After propping a pillow under his head, he drew the covers around him and dwelt on Jennifer for a moment. Just the thought of her sent a tremor through his loins, and a contented smile crossed his face. She was a unique woman - all lady - and he could easily have lost her, as well as Andy. They were a package deal and he needed to remember that. The longer he was away from the business, the crazy hours, the dangerous people, the situations, the twisted thinking, and especially the cocaine, his appreciation for his family and other aesthetics continued to assume greater importance in his life.
The previous day they had let Andy stay overnight at Jennifer's sister's, so that Andy could visit his cousin, who was also three. It had allowed Adrian and Jennifer to spend the day together, and the night home alone with each other. They loved Andy deeply, and to a certain extent were building their lives around raising him. But every now and then they needed time to themselves.
That day and the previous evening had allowed them to simply be Adrian and Jennifer. The day had been spent talking, laughing, sharing memories of their courtship, taking a long walk, making love; all the things Adrian had allowed to start slipping away as the result of his business activities and his drug use. The past thirty-six hours had drawn him and Jennifer back to each other like pins to a magnet. A candlelight dinner at home followed by back rubs had turned into a night of absolute bliss. They had allowed the world to take a couple of turns without them, and hadn't regretted it for a minute. Their affection toward each other and their chemistry had been rekindled; so had their marriage. They'd
re-committed themselves to avoiding what happened to so many other couples; that lonely, silent, seemingly hopeless downward spiral into the dismal abyss of not wanting to live apart, yet no longer being able to live together, either.
He was lucky to have gotten out when he did.
His daydreams were interrupted when the phone rang. For the first time since he could remember, he looked at the instrument without cringing. If someone was calling with a business proposition, they had the wrong number.
The freedom he felt was exhilarating, and he relished the serenity it added to his life. "Hello."
"Hi, Dad! I wanted to see you, and I'll be coming home after Mom takes me to the beach.' A brief pause, then, "I missed you last night."
"I missed you, too, Andy. So did your Mom. Are you being good for Aunt Paula?"
There was another short silence, before Andy said, "Dad, I try to be good for everyone. Well, sort of good. She got mad at me a couple of times, but I couldn't help it. It didn't feel right without you and mom."
Paula, his sister-in-law, came on the line. "Don't let him kid you. He was great...once I got him and his cousin to bed. There’s always another story to tell."
"Jen and I really appreciate everything you do for us. I'm sure Andy does, too. We'll be sure to return the favor."
"Sounds like a plan. Jen just showed up, so I'll jump. Hold on a minute, she wants to talk to you. Take care."
Jen came on the line. "Hi, baby. Get a good sleep?"
"Are you kidding? Of course I did," he said lazily. "Must be the help I got last night."
"It was mutual," she said. He could hear the smile in her voice. "I thought I'd take Andy and Steven to the beach so Paula can get a few things done around here. I'll be back in time for supper, if that's okay."
"Sounds great. Maybe I'll do some 'male bonding' with him at the park tonight so you can catch your breath."
Rules of the Game Page 6