“Rafael, you are a most gracious host,” de La Fuente said in his overly formal English. “You present all the decadent pleasures the United States can offer. And how did you manage to get Aguila Imperial here?”
“I’m telling you, you can get anything here,” Rafe replied. de La Fuente grinned back and Ruby found his gold-capped tooth somehow disconcerting. When everyone raised their bottles she joined in. The Colombian beer, Aguila Imperial, turned out to be a pretty good lager, reminding her of Samuel Adams. After a good swig she threw an arm over the arm of Rafe’s chair to raise herself a bit.
“That’s why everybody wants to be in the U.S.,” she said. “Are you fellows planning to stay? Do you have jobs lined up and stuff?”
“My friends here will be staying for a while,” de La Fuente said without taking his eyes off the screen. “They have technical qualifications and after Hector led us to his talented brother, Rafael arranged job interviews for them. I myself am merely a visitor.”
“Technical, huh?” Ruby leaned toward the man at the end of the couch. “So what do you do, handsome? What makes you technical?”
He blushed and gave her a shy smile, but it was de La Fuente who answered. “Marco is a chemist.”
Ruby smiled, nodded, and sat back on her haunches again. Why was de La Fuente the spokesman? She had heard them all speak, in both Spanish and English. Maybe they hadn’t all practiced their stories enough. She knew they were not what they said they were, but she wondered how deep the deception went. And Marco was a chemist. Was he the quality control man for the drugs? Or maybe he had created something new? Ruby had assumed all along that the white powder in Rafe’s furnace room was cocaine, but it could just as easily be some form of amphetamine like meth or some new designer drug. She’d have to know for sure before she called in the cavalry. It was time to start enlisting Rafe’s help in finding out the truth.
She looked up at him just as he raised his bottle and drained it. She took the empty bottle from his hand just as she had the first two times and stood up. But this time she tapped his knee and whispered, “Join me for a minute?” With a wink she gathered the other four empty bottles and shuffled toward the kitchen. Rafe followed her all the way. Once in the other room she dropped the bottles in a recycle bin and turned with her back to the refrigerator.
“Okay, what’s up, chica?” Rafe asked. “What do you need?”
“Well, first, it’s been almost an hour since I’ve had a kiss, lover.” She pulled him into her arms and shared a fierce kiss, finding herself quite lightheaded when their lips broke contact. Her genuine feelings made her part easier to play. As she thought about it, her brow creased with concern. Rafe, staring into her eyes again, could not help but notice.
“What troubles you, Ruby? Something is making you frown.”
“Oh, Rafe, I don’t want to sound paranoid, but those guys out there, they just don’t seem right.”
Rafe threw back his head and laughed out loud. “Oh, my little one, they are just new and feeling like strangers in a strange land. They will loosen up.”
“No, it’s more than that,” she said seriously. “Honey, I worry about you.”
“Now why would you worry about me? You have no reason to care.”
“No reason?” Ruby shot back in her high squeak of a voice. “Usted es mi hombre, sí?” Rafe hesitated just a second, as if he had not considered it. “Sí, mi amor.”
“Well, if you’re my man, then I can worry about you,” Ruby said. “I don’t want to see nobody make a fool out of you. I just want to know you know what you’re doing, that’s all. Especially if you didn’t meet these guys yourself originally.”
Rafe eased Ruby out of the way and opened the refrigerator. A blast of cold air burst into her face as he reached in to pull out more beer. “You have no reason for concern, chica. I am simply helping these men to settle in the country, as I have many before them. Besides, Hector brought them to me and if a man can’t trust his brother…”
Ruby dropped a heavy sigh. “You do know they’re not your countrymen, right?”
“What are you talking about?” Rafe asked, carrying the bottles to the table.
“Have you been gone that long from home, baby? de La Fuente doesn’t want to speak Spanish around me, but I heard enough. Their accents aren’t Colombian, Rafe. From their voices, these guys are all from Peru.”
Chapter Sixteen
Mike stepped forward and swung his huge right fist at Gunny’s head. Gunny easily slapped it away with a palm and waited. That, he knew, was just a test punch, to see what he was up against. Next came a wild left, and a quick right jab. Gunny dodged them both. When Mike tried a left hook, Gunny took it on his elbow and slammed his own left into Mike’s jaw. Mike’s head rolled backward but he stayed on his feet. Anger flared from his eyes. Soon he would commit.
A battle of giants like this one was similar to sumo wrestling in that the final clash didn’t last very long. Gunny didn’t want to tear up the restaurant, he just wanted to put this big Sicilian in his place. He was just waiting for the other man to overstep himself.
When it came it was quick. Mike roared in rage, feinted with a right, and shot a left cross forward, very fast. Gunny was faster, spinning with the punch and stepping in to capture Mike’s jacket lapels in both hands. Gunny’s left leg went wide, his left elbow digging into Mike’s solar plexus as he turned.
Gunny had studied judo as a sport since grade school, and had attained his third degree black belt before he left the Marine Corps. He slammed his hip into Mike’s body almost without thinking, wheeling the bigger man over it and into the air. Mike had no control of his movement, but Gunny did, making sure he landed flat on his back instead of his head. As the air rushed out of Mike’s lungs, Gunny stepped over his captured left arm and sat down hard on Mike’s chest. Mike’s arm was vertical, controlled by Gunny’s legs and hands. A simple thumb lock allowed Gunny to administer pain in controlled, measured doses. Mike grimaced, but didn’t fight.
“Now, you want to stop this nonsense?” Gunny asked in a friendly voice. “It’s hard to hold a slice of pizza without a thumb.”
Mike stayed silent for about ten seconds as Gunny increased the pressure very gradually. Gunny saw the sweat begin to rise on Mike’s forehead just before he mumbled, “Okay.”
“Excuse me?” Gunny said.
“Okay,” Mike bellowed in response. “Let go of me.”
“Sure thing, partner,” Gunny said, standing. “We’re on the same side, after all.” He stepped away from Mike before letting go of his arm. Mike was on his feet in an instant, cradling his hand. Gunny surveyed the bar now that he could spare the attention. Beyond the self-serve buffet, Lorenzo Lucania was talking to an excited Chinese manager. The conversation cooled as Lucania stuffed a hundred-dollar bill into the man’s shirt pocket. Closer to him, Gus was looking from Mike to Gunny to Lucania, looking professionally neutral. Robbie, a younger man, was just starting to chuckle. Gunny didn’t like that. He didn’t want to make enemies, and it would be a bad thing to take down Mike’s pride. He waited for Robbie to speak.
“Oh man, Mike, he really…”
Gunny interrupted him. “You want to go next? Think you can take me?”
Robbie’s face changed from glee to worry. “Hey, no, man, that ain’t necessary.”
“Then shut the hell up. You just back up the man who’s got the balls.”
Beyond Robbie, Gunny saw Lucania wore a faint smile. Then the smile dropped from his face and his eyes widened just enough to betray concern. Gunny knew why. He could hear Mike getting up behind him. Gunny turned and the two big men stood facing each other. Gunny’s focus was on Mike’s face, ready for anything. His focus was so strong that he didn’t even hear Lucania approaching until he was right behind Gunny.
“Mike,” Lucania said, with perfect even calm. “He’s good. He’s smart. And he’s in. Now, shake hands with your new partner.”
Mike’s eyes never left Gunny’s but hi
s right hand poked forward. “You follow me.”
“Gladly,” Gunny said with a grin. The grip was strong, but not unfriendly.
Another cheer went up from the living room bleachers when one of the teams on the big screen finally managed to score a goal. One thing Ruby Sanchez had never suspected about soccer was how long it took to play just one freaking game. The floor in front of the sofa was littered with broken chips now and the empty beer bottles had gathered on the coffee table faster than she could whisk them away. So she had given up and let them accumulate. No one else seemed to care.
Even after fairly heavy drinking, the visitors almost never said anything not directly related to the game. In fact, they hardly said anything, except to cheer, except for de La Fuente. He was clearly the spokesman for the group. The others were more like happy frat boys than vicious drug smugglers. Was it possible she was wrong about these guys? No, they were up to something evil all right, and she knew a way to reinforce her feelings.
“Gotta take a potty break, sugar,” Ruby said to the side of Rafe’s head. He turned just long enough to give her a quick, beer-flavored kiss, and returned his focus to the game. Ruby grabbed her purse and slipped away unnoticed.
Ruby hadn’t realized that her ears were ringing until she closed the bathroom door behind herself and locked it. The men had the game up louder than she had realized and she could still hear it through the door. Aside from sparing her ears, Ruby appreciated that the bathroom was free of the smell of stale beer and testosterone. The fresh smell reminded her of how clean the bathroom was, especially for a single man’s home. He must have a maid come in, she decided.
Getting comfortable on the obvious seat, Ruby pulled the little plastic bag out of her purse. Next she found a small kit in her bag, about the size and shape of a small sewing kit. It opened to reveal four small dishes at one end, like docking ports for marbles. Above them lay four eyedroppers. The liquids inside them would tell her what she wanted to know about the fine white powder in the bag. Opening the bag, she poured a small amount into each tiny dish. Then she added a few drops of liquid to each sample. A little of the powder puffed up. This stuff was a very fine powder indeed. But its color didn’t change in any of the little dishes. Odd, she thought, so she added a few more drops of the different liquids to each. Then she reached into her bag one more time and fished out her cell phone.
Across the city, Gorman dropped the New York Times crossword puzzle and snatched up the phone before the end of its first ring.
“Gorman.”
“I know that, fool. You know who this is?”
“Ruby,” Gorman said with a grimace. “About time you called in, but what’s with the echo? Don’t you ever call me from anyplace except the bathroom?”
“Sorry, sugar,” Ruby replied. “When I sit on the crapper I think of you.”
Gorman put his feet up on his desk and leaned back. “So, what’s going on? Making any progress with your smuggler friend?”
“It’s getting kind of weird, boss,” Ruby said. “I found his stash and got a sample, but I don’t know what it is.”
“What, you forgot your testing kit?”
Ruby rolled her eyes. “I’m not an idiot, Paul. I got the kit, but this stuff doesn’t react to anything. So it’s a very fine, white powder, but it’s not heroine, or cocaine, or meth or any kind of acid. What do you think?”
While Ruby spoke, Gorman lowered his feet to the floor and leaned forward slowly. “I don’t know what to think, but if he’s smuggling this stuff in and hiding it, it can’t be good. I don’t like mysteries, Ruby. You need to come on in now and let somebody else put this guy under surveillance. Where are you anyway?”
“Out on Staten Island, man,” Ruby said. “But not for long. I’m definitely ready to…”
Ruby was interrupted by a loud knock on the door, and Gorman held his breath. He heard a man’s insistent voice in the background, and Ruby’s response.
“What do you think I’m doing in here? Hell, there’s three other bathrooms in this place. Well you shouldn’t have waited until the last second, huh? Ah, shit, okay, okay.”
Then the line went dead. Gorman swallowed hard. He wasn’t sure why his forehead was starting to sweat.
Chapter Seventeen
A narrow flight of stairs led to a third story above the Good Chinese Kitchen. When Gunny Robinson arrived at the top floor, he decided it looked like a good Chinese meeting room. One large table dominated the room, surrounded by plenty of chairs. A thick manila folder lay at the head of the table. A low hanging green metal lamp cast a cone of light over the table that left the rest of the room in shadow. In the darkness on the far right, the room had its own bar. Gunny could detect the frying smells from downstairs, but none of the sounds. He assumed none of the sound inside this room got out either. Robbie, the youngest of the thugs, went to the bar, set out glasses, and began to pour Scotch.
“Okay fellows,” Lucania said, standing at the head of the table, “we’ve got some serious business to take care of here. Gunny, this is about to get heavy. Past this point you’re out or you’re in all the way. But I got to know now.”
The two men locked eyes, and Gunny prayed he wasn’t misreading some signal Lucania was trying to send. “I’m down for whatever, as long as you’re in charge.”
Lucania gave a subtle nod and lowered himself into his chair. Robbie managed to carry four glasses to the table in one trip. As he set them out, Gunny dropped into the chair on Lucania’s right. Lucania remained passive, but Mike approached the seat and just stared down at Gunny. This signal he understood right away.
“Am I in your chair? Sorry, man.” Gunny got up, smiled at Mike and moved down two seats.
“You need to learn your place, newbie,” Robbie said with a grin.
Mike stabbed a thick finger at Robbie. “You don’t give Gunny no shit. And where’s his drink?”
While Robbie hustled back to the bar, Gunny reflected that he had apparently made a friend, in the way he had years ago in the schoolyard. How little had changed, he thought. Except now the kids were a lot bigger and better armed, and the stakes were higher.
Gus, the quiet one, sat at the end of the table toward the door. Robbie settled into the seat facing Gunny and pushed a drink forward. Gunny nodded his thanks. Then, as if on a signal, all eyes turned to Lucania.
“Okay, I got you guys together because we’ve got a job to do, something a little more challenging than the usual stuff we take care of.”
“Hey, we’re in the business of handling the hard stuff,” Mike said, passing a smile around the table. “What, we going to hit the governor?”
Lucania let them chuckle for a few seconds while he pulled a photograph out of the folder and turned it to face away from himself. Then he said, “Not this time. For now, Mr. Lacata wants us to take care of this man. He’s an assistant district attorney.”
Gunny looked to Mike to allow him to respond first. When he said nothing, Gunny asked, “That’s a bit ballsy, ain’t it? The last guys I was with, they steered clear of popping officers of the court. Except lawyers of course. Nobody cares if you thin that herd a bit.”
Lucania’s lips curled at one corner. “I guess Mr. Lacata has more balls than the last guys you were with,” he said. “This guy’s getting to be an inconvenience, so I figure the boss wants to send a signal. Nothing delivers a message like a well-timed death. That’s why we need to take care of this before the sun sets tomorrow. I’ve got his personal information in here and with it, we’re going to make a plan to get this thing done smoothly.”
“Hey, I like a guy who’s ready to take action,” Gunny said with a smile. “But hey, if this is the planning session, have I got time to hit the head first?”
This time Gorman swallowed half his mug of coffee before he picked up the phone. His right hand stayed busy with a pencil, scribbling notes from his brief conversations with Chastity and Ruby, lining up time lines and drawing lines connecting the data in ways that would
be mysterious to the casual observer. When he heard Gunny’s voice his brows knitted together and he added a new name to his yellow pad.
“Good to hear your voice, Gunny, but why do people want to talk to me in the bathroom?”
“Sorry, sir, but it was the only way I could get away from the group, and I can only talk for a minute.”
“Have you made contact with this Lucania kid again?” Gorman said, moving to the edge of his chair. “Can you shake him loose from the mob?”
“I don’t think that can happen right away,” Gunny whispered. “Listen, he’s been tasked to make a hit. I think it’s planned for tomorrow sometime. I’ve gotten myself inside so I can stay close, but keeping him from becoming a killer, or getting killed for failing, could be a challenge.”
“Glad you’re there,” Gorman said. “You might be all that keeps this kid from getting pushed over the line. Who’s the target?”
“Don’t have a name, but it’s big. An assistant DA.”
“You’re joking,” Gorman said, knowing that he wasn’t. “Jesus, which one of the teeming mob of assistant DA’s in the five boroughs would they be after? And what if they reach outside The City proper? Damn, Westchester County alone has over a hundred assistant district attorneys. We can’t protect them all.”
“I might be able to narrow it down a mite,” Gunny said. “He’s male, white, sandy hair, and looks to be in his late thirties. Lorenzo showed us a picture.”
“Okay, I’ll give it a shot. Meanwhile, can we keep tabs on this guy?”
“You can. I slipped a homing beacon into his jacket pocket when I sat down next to him earlier,” Gunny said.
“Good man,” Gorman said, now drawing circles to draw the four investigators into a Venn diagram. “Now you better get going before they think you fell in. And Gunny…”
“Yes, sir?”
“This is why I don’t want you doing field work. I can’t afford to lose your sorry ass.”
Standing in Rafe’s big, bright kitchen, Ruby could hear gentle snoring coming from the living room. The house was quiet now, the soccer game over at last. She knew that Rafe’s guests had gotten into a fierce game of dominos and that one had fallen asleep. Jet lag would probably catch up to all of them before too long. That would mean that she would probably learn nothing of value by staying around for the rest of the evening. And it also meant that all the peppers and onions she was dicing for a fine dinner were probably a waste of time. Her thoughts were interrupted by Rafe planting his elbows on the island chopping block in front of her. His damned eyes pulled her in every time.
Beyond Blue Page 14