by Mark Anthony
I thought quickly on my feet, as I knew that maintaining contact with Angela would be vital in closing out this investigation.
“Angie, I swear on my life, I had no idea that Horse would use my girls for a video like that! He called me and told me how many girls he needed and what kind of girls he was looking for and when he needed the girls for. Just like he does for any video shoot. And, trust me, when I saw that video, I practically ripped him a new asshole! I wanted to call you as soon as I found out about the video but you were nowhere to be found. You told me that you were going to Florida, and the next thing I know your cell phone number was no longer good. So what was I supposed to do, Angela?” I stated like a Hollywood A-list actress.
There was a pause on the phone and then Angela blew out some air into the phone before saying, “Jessica, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be taking anything out on you. I’m just so stressed out over this whole thing!”
I cut Angela off and told her that I would call her back in two minutes. “Angela, I have to take this call. But can I call you back at this number that’s on my cell phone caller ID?” I asked.
“Okay, call me back but do not give out that number! You understand?” Angela warned.
“Yes, no problem. Okay, I gotta go,” I hurried and said before hanging up.
I had no other call, but what I wanted to do was get Angela tied into a recorded line. So I quickly called Andrew and told him what was up. He instructed me to call into one of the Bureau’s taped phone lines that was being manned by a special agent and then to three-way Angela back into the call.
I did as he told me and before long I called Angela back. I knew to call her from my cell phone so that I wouldn’t raise any of her suspicions.
“Hello,” Angela answered.
“Angela, it’s me. Sorry about that. I just have so much going on with this business that it is crazy for me. My days are just so hectic,” I stated.
“Well, like I was saying, this whole music shit has me so stressed out. I mean my father sent me down here because he didn’t want me in New York until this whole money thing was settled,” Angela said.
I played dumb.
“Wait a minute, Angela, are you telling me that Horse still hasn’t given your father his three million dollars back?” I said with a tone of disgust and disbelief.
“No! And that’s the whole thing that’s pissing my father off. He don’t want me calling Horse, Supreme, or anybody from their camp. And I wanna call Horse and tell him to stop acting so damn childish and just give back the money so this whole thing can just go away and everybody can move on. It’s really making me sick as a dog. Not to mention how bad I feel for White Lines,” Angela stated.
I knew that I had to try and take the conversation to a more incriminating level so I said, “Well, to be honest, I don’t even want to speak to Horse after this little video thing that he pulled. Plus I’ve been keeping my distance. Too many people have been getting killed and shot and I know it’s probably because Supreme and Horse have been doing dirty deals … Did you hear what happened to G-Baby? That is exactly what I mean. But speaking to you now, I can probably put two and two together and guess that your father ordered that hit on G-Baby.”
The phone went silent and my heart rate increased. I prayed that I had not raised Angela’s suspicions but I also hoped that she would say something incriminating. To help play things off, I yawned into the phone and reached to turn on the radio so that there could be some type of noise in the background.
“Jessica, why do you think I am so stressed and upset over this whole thing? Of course my father ordered that. And I can’t say that I blame him. I mean, Horse shot up my house, Jessica, and they took my father’s money. What else was he supposed to do?” Angela rambled on.
“Angela, this is crazy. It’s like something from straight out of a movie or something. Is there anything that I can do?” I asked.
Angela sighed and then said, “Jessica, actually I am gonna need your help. If you can do this for me, I don’t know, you let me know.”
“Of course, Angela, what is it?” I asked.
Angela sighed again into the phone.
“Jessica, this does not leave your mouth, you understand?” Angela said.
“Yes, you know me Angie, I don’t have a big mouth,” I replied.
“Well, let me tell you what I need from you and then I’ll fill you in on why I need it. Okay, I need you to spot me like fifty grand. I know it’s a lot of money but I am good for it. I’ll get it back to you, you got my word on that,” Angela said, surprisingly sounding as humble as I had ever heard her.
Without thinking, I replied, “Yeah, umh, I think I should be able to do that for you, but what’s going on?”
“Thank you, Jessica, you are a sweetheart. Okay, when this whole three million dollar thing became an issue, in terms of Horse and Supreme not wanting to give my father his money back, my father was so pissed off at me for having gotten involved with ‘a bunch of niggers’, as he put it. He claimed that niggers can’t be trusted and he went on and on. But he was more pissed off about the arrogance that they had in stealing his money and disrespecting his house. So he shipped me down here to Florida until everything was worked out and settled. And other than me being isolated from my friends, I was cool. I mean Miami is a nice place to be at so it wasn’t too bad. But then when that record came out, he wanted to know if I had ever really been with any of those niggers.”
“You mean sexually?” I asked.
“Yes,” Angela answered. I nodded my head up and down, even though she couldn’t see me.
She continued on, “So I didn’t lie about it because what if Horse really did have a videotape of me and him having sex? If that tape exists and it got into my father’s hands, he would have killed me for lying. He always stressed to us growing up that lying to him was the one thing that he would not tolerate. So I told him the truth. And Jessica, he went crazy! Ming! Madone! He cursed me and called me every kind of whore. And he actually flew down here to Miami and beat my ass! I’m a grown woman and he actually beat my ass like I was a damn twelve-year-old kid.”
“Wow! Oh my God, Angela. Are you okay?” I asked out of genuine concern.
“I’m okay, but he basically cut me off. He cut me off from money and from everything. And Jessica, I don’t know if you know, but when Italian family members stop speaking to you, it’s like you might as well be dead or something. And especially with the influence that my father has, he put the word out for no one to speak to me or to help me out, and none of my friends or family will want to cross him and go against his commands, forget about it,” Angela explained.
“Angela, that sounds a bit drastic to me. I mean I understand that you sort of brought him into the whole money thing with Gun Clap, but he’s not cutting you off because of that, he’s cutting you off just because you had sex with Horse, who happens to be black?” I asked in disbelief. I felt guilty for having cooked up the dis record idea. I continued on, “And I guess he saw the music video and really lost it,” I stated.
“Well, I don’t know if he saw it or not, but I do know that it’s definitely not gonna help the situation at all. That’s why I was so pissed off. It’s like as soon as I think this thing can die and go away; this fucking record comes out, and then the music video. It’s too fucking much and it’s making my father look bad! But to answer your question, it’s not just a matter of me having had sex with a black guy that’s pissing my father off. Even if he is at war with the guy that had sex with me, what it is, is that I’m pregnant by the guy, Jessica,” Angela stated in bombshell fashion.
For a split second, I came out of my FBI agent role, and really wanted to be there for Angela in terms of a genuine friend, but I knew that I had a job to do.
“Oh my fucking God! Angela, you have got to be kidding!” I said with real genuine dramatic affect.
I made sure not to insult Angela by asking her if she was sure that Horse was the father of the baby. She had to
know who she had been with sexually and I was certain that she knew what the deal was.
“Does Horse know?” I asked.
“No. How would he know? I haven’t spoken to him. And Jessica, you better not open your mouth about it either,” she warned.
“I won’t say anything. I haven’t really been speaking to Horse and Supreme that much anyway. I don’t like how they do business, and then after that dis record that they put out and dragging me into the middle of it by using my girls in a video that they know I would never have had any part of—that made me realize that I really have to distance myself from them,” I said as I played both sides of the fence beautifully.
“So are you’re keeping the baby?” I asked.
“Of course I am! I’m not with that abortion shit!” Angela replied.
There was silence on the phone for a few seconds and then I said, “Well, Angela, look, why don’t you come back to New York, stay with me, I’ll give you the money, and you can sort things out. If you want you can even come in and help me out at the modeling agency.”
Angela didn’t respond.
“Living with me isn’t the best thing but it would have to be better than being cooped up down in Miami by yourself. Especially now with the baby on the way and all. But you let me know, the invitation is open, and anything that you need me to do just give me the word,” I reiterated.
“Thank you, Jessica,” Angela said. I could tell that she was smiling through the phone. Then she added. “Jessica, actually there is something you can do for me.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
Angela blew some air into the phone and she said, “Tell Horse to really be careful. Just tell him that you spoke to me and that you can’t really elaborate, but tell him that my father is not gonna stop until he kills him. And tell him to just give back the money and things might cool down and my father might not come for him. But honestly, Jessica, at this point, it’s past being just about the money as far as my father is concerned. I hate how Horse and Supreme are handling this whole thing, but they really have to watch their backs. It was so easy for my father to get someone from their own Gun Clap crew to get G-Baby, so just tell Horse to be careful even with the people that he thinks are his boys,” Angela stated.
“Okay, I definitely will do that,” I informed Angela.
“Jessica, I don’t know what it is. I mean, I can’t say I have real feelings for Horse, because it’s not like that. But I mean, he is gonna be the father of this baby that I’m carrying. And I don’t know. Bottom line is that I don’t want to see anything happen to him, that’s all,” Angela stated.
As I ended the conversation, I told her that I understood. And for the first time I was actually starting to see the human being underneath Angela’s brash tough-as-nails demeanor.
She agreed that she would come to New York very soon and stay with me and sort things out. Little did she know how her phone conversation with me had just made things real tough for her father.
I was certain that she would eventually find out though, because she had just given us that rock-solid evidence that we needed to get at Paulie Calvino, the so-called Teflon Don.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
I had made plans to attend G-Baby’s funeral with Trina from my modeling agency. The funeral was held at Christian Cultural Center, a five-thousand seat mega-church located in Brooklyn. Five thousand seats weren’t enough to accommodate the massive number of mourners who turned out to pay their last respects to G-Baby. At least a thousand people were standing in the balcony, on the steps, and along the aisles.
Trina and I sat in about the fifth row, where we had a clear view of the open casket that held G-Baby’s lifeless body while cleverly hiding his severed hands. Horse and Supreme and the entire Gun Clap family sat in the first three rows along with the family of G-Baby. It seemed as if the entire hip-hop community had come out to the funeral. P. Diddy was in attendance, as was Jay-Z, Russell Simmons, Rev Run, LL Cool J, 50 Cent, and the list goes on and on. And of course the place was littered with special agents, undercover NYPD officers, and uniformed officers.
I would have to say that, out of all of the wakes and funerals that I had been to, including the ones for S&S and Tech-9, that this was the saddest of them all. Without a doubt, I had never heard so much wailing and crying. I don’t know what exactly it was, but I think that everyone in attendance was just drained mentally and emotionally. The sentiment from everyone was that enough was enough. All of the killings had to be put to an end.
From what a lot of the newspapers were reporting and from the overall buzz in the industry, it was clear that people were falling tired of Horse’s act. Surprisingly, Russell Simmons was one of the most vocal. Even at the funeral he indirectly urged Horse to either be a music man or a gangsta.
“There used to be a fine line that was walked, but now you got music executives that are purposely blurring that line between gangsta and music. And that can’t keep continuing on like that. And then there is this twisted notion that you gotta strike back at the people that struck at you! Man, come on! What is that? A lot of us in this church today are multimillionaires. We can’t continue running around and responding to ignorance with ignorance!” Russell stated.
His words drew thunderous applause, and it was as if the applause was directly heralded at Horse, who many had learned through the grapevine was the one who had opposed paying the ransom money to G-Baby’s kidnappers.
Throughout the funeral Horse remained stone-faced. He showed absolutely no emotion. If anything, he showed a face of defiance. And when the funeral was over and the thousands of mourners piled out of the church, Horse was at the center of the media’s attention.
Cameras snapped pictures and reporters asked questions.
“Horse, is there any truth to the rumor that G-Baby was killed by the Calvino crime family?” one reporter asked.
Horse replied, “I make music, that’s what I do for a living. You see those guys over there with the blue uniforms on? Go ask them that question. It’s their job to find out who murdered G-Baby!”
“Is it true that you stole money from the Calvinos? Allegedly, it was money that was supposed to be laundered through your company,” a female reporter asked.
Horse turned and laughed. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”
As reporters continued to ask him questions, he excused himself by saying, “Look, my man just died. Can there be some respect shown to him and his family? I really can’t answer any more questions.”
“Horse, what is confusing—and many influential people in the hip-hop community seem confused by this—is why if G-Baby had such close ties to you did you not simply pay the alleged ransom money that his kidnappers were seeking?” a reporter managed to throw in.
Horse had resumed his defiant demeanor as he responded, “First of all, I’m a grown man who doesn’t answer to anybody. I’m a multimillionaire! And that means that I come and go as I please without answering to anybody. I can do whatever the hell I wanna do! Russell Simmons, and everybody else for that matter, can kiss my ass!” Horse stated as he briskly walked off with his entourage to a fleet of waiting SUVs.
What Horse was too arrogant and stubborn to realize was that it was the abrasive way he spoke that was turning so many people against him. But he had an image and a reputation to maintain. At least in the public’s eye anyway.
* * *
A week or so after the funeral, and a day before Angela was scheduled to arrive in New York and begin staying with me, I phoned Horse just to talk him up and to fill him in on some of what Angela had told me.
I called him on his cell phone and he picked up on the first ring.
“Hey Horse, it’s me, Jessica.”
“Jessie, what up? Yo, I know I gotta get you that dough, right?” Horse stated through the phone.
“Yeah, but that’s not why I’m calling. Don’t worry yourself about that,” I assured.
Horse blew some air in
to the phone. “Jessie, you don’t know. It’s hard being me! Word is bond!”
“I can imagine. I never got a chance to really talk to you after G-Baby’s funeral. I figured you probably wanted to be left alone and have some time with yourself,” I stated.
“Yeah, actually I took a few days away from this music thing just so I could get my head straight. And you know what is wild, is that it was just me and my son, we flew to this private resort in St. Barts, and when I was down there, I was like he’s the only thing in this world that matters to me. It was like no stress at all down there. And my son, he has like no cares in the world about anything. And I was just feeding off of that. We was playing video games and it just hit me like, ‘what the fuck am I doing? Am I working too hard or something?’ Jessica, between me and you, I’m thinking about just saying fuck this music shit. I mean I already got enough cake for three lifetimes. I don’t gotta deal with this drama and this heat. You kna’imean? From now on I’m thinking about just making it be about me and my little homey? Ya’ heard?” Horse stated after rambling on.
“Stop with all of that, Horse. You know you can’t give up this music business!” I said in a gleeful way.
“Nah, Jessica, word is bond! I think I’m done with this shit. On the real,” Horse replied.
“Whatever Horse. Listen, I don’t mean to stress you out any more but I spoke with Angela the other—”
“What the fuck that bitch want?” Horse said, sounding very bitter.
“No, Horse don’t sound like, I mean I hadn’t spoken to her in I don’t know how long, she said that she was staying somewhere in Florida—”
Horse cut me off again. “Good! Tell that bitch to stay her ass down there!”
“No, Horse, listen. She was calling with love. She wasn’t talking slick or nothing like that. Actually she just wanted me to relay a message to you and to tell you to be real careful because—”