Beneath The Surface

by Glenn, Roy

  “Come on in, Mikey, and shut the door,” Angelo said and waved him on. “Like I said, this bottle of XO Premier got your name on it.”

  “How’s it goin’, Angee?” Black asked and shook his hand.

  “Same as always,” Angelo said, pouring them both a drink.

  “Thanks,” Black said and shot his, and Angelo followed suit.

  “So, Mikey, is this a business or a social call?”

  “It’s both.”

  “I thought it would be,” Angelo said, and Black prepared to tell Angelo what he already knew, but there was a knock at the door. “What is it?” Angelo shouted.

  One of Angelo’s men cracked the door open and stuck his head in. “Sorry to bother you, but its Pauly on the phone.”

  “What does he want?”

  “It’s Mangino again.”

  “That prick,” Angelo said.

  “Tell me about it.”

  “What is it this time?”

  “Pauly says Mangino came around again today, bustin’ his balls.”

  “I’m fuckin’ tired of this prick,” Angelo said and jumped up. “You tell Pauly he ain’t gotta worry about that no more. And you get that fuckin’ prick on the phone and—you know what, never mind,” Angelo said and looked at Black. “Come ride with me, Mikey.” Angelo opened the desk drawer and took out a gun.

  “Where we goin’, Angee?”

  “Where the fuck you think we’re goin’. We’re goin’ to kill this prick.”

  Black looked at Angelo without answering.

  “Come on, Mikey. It will be like old times.”

  Black got up and followed Angelo out the door. On the way out of the club, he told Victor to have a few drinks and relax, and he got in the car with Angelo. “So what this guy do?”

  “He just don’t get it, Mikey. This prick Mangino, he’s one of these old heads, fresh out the joint. Guy did every day of a twenty-year stretch. This fuckin’ guy turned down parole six times; said he didn’t want to have to check in with no parole office when he got out.”

  “Smart guy. PO will lock you up over bullshit.”

  “Fuckin’ A right they will, but now he’s out and he’s tryin’ to get back in, and he’s steppin’ on a lotta toes.”

  “Sounds like he’s a man that’s just tryin’ to earn to me, Angee. Cut him some slack.”

  “I know he’s just tryin’ to earn, and believe me, Mikey, I can understand that. But for God’s sake, Mikey—I tell him to ease up, you know, be patient, I’ll work him into big things as they happen, but this prink don’t listen. He wants to do it his way.”

  “So this is a matter of respect,” Black said.

  “I can’t let bums like him think they can walk out of the joint and walk over me. Ain’t gonna happen, Mikey. Not while I’m still fuckin’ breathin’.”

  “That’s all you had to say,” Black said, and took his gloves out of his pocket and put them on. “I understand the need for respect.”

  “Good,” Angelo said as they pulled over and parked his car down the street from a bar where he knows Mangino hangs out. “Now, let’s go get this prick.” Angelo got out of the car and looked down the street at the working girls that were standing outside. “Wait here, Mikey; I’ll be right back.”

  “Where you goin’?”

  Angelo put his arm around Black and pointed down the street. “You see the big tit blonde there with the thunder thighs?”

  “Can’t miss her—them titties so fuckin’ big.”

  “That’s where I’m goin’,” Angelo said and walked off.

  “Don’t hurt yourself,” Black said.

  Angelo gave him the finger and kept walking toward the woman. She smiled when she saw him coming. “Hey, Angelo; I haven’t seen you in a long time,” she said and hugged and kissed him on the cheek.

  “Come here, Silky. I got something for you,” Angelo said and grabbed her by the hand.

  As he led her away, one of the other working girls said, “Is it big and hard?”

  Angelo gave her the finger and kept walking toward the car. When they got back to the car, Silky saw Black leaning against the car. “Baby doll, this is gonna be fun.”

  “Calm down, Silky, it ain’t that type of party,” Angelo said and looked at Black.

  Silky gave Angelo a confused look. “Well what type of party is it?”

  “I need you to do something for me,” Angelo said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Mangino in there?”

  “Yeah, that bastard is in there.”

  “I need you to go in there, tell him whatever you gotta tell him, but you bring him back here to me. Then you get lost and forget you saw us here tonight. You got that?”

  “Sure.” Silky started to walk back to the bar, but she stopped and came back. “You make sure that fuckin’ bastard suffers, Angelo. You promise me that. Guy always wants to fuck; then he wants to slap you around when you ask for your money. Little dick, bastard; I hate him,” Silky said and walked away.

  “You trust her?”

  “Who Silky?”

  “Yeah, Silky,” Black said as he watched her walk back to the bar.

  “Don’t worry, Mikey, we go back; done this before, me and Silky. She won’t say a word to anybody.”

  For the next twenty minutes, Angelo and Black waited by the car and wondered what was taking Silky so long to deliver Mangino. Then finally, Silky came out of the bar with Mangino on her arm, and his hand down her blouse. Angelo turned to Black. “I’m gonna walk this prick down that alley there. You hang back and get behind him,” Angelo said and walked toward Silky and Mangino. Black turned and walked the other way.

  Mangino’s facial expression changed when he saw Angelo walking toward him. He looked around to see if anybody was with him. Not seeing anybody, Mangino let go of Silky’s nipple and straightened up a little.

  “Just the guy I was lookin’ for.”

  “What you lookin’ for me for?” Mangino asked.

  “Come on; I got something I need to talk to you about.”

  “Can’t it wait? I’m kind of busy right now,” Mangino said and looked at Silky.

  Angelo walked up to her. “I’m sure Silky won’t mind if I borrow you for a few minutes,” he said and stuck a wad of bills down Silky’s abundant cleavage. “Get lost, Silky.”

  Silky kissed Angelo on the cheek. “You remember what I told you,” she said and walked away.

  “What’s she talkin’ about?” Mangino asked as Angelo threw his arm around him.

  “I have no fuckin’ idea. You know how some of these broads are; shit makes sense to nobody but them.”

  “Especially that one,” Mangino said as he and Angelo walked down the alley. “All tits no brains, that one.”

  “Yeah, right,” Angelo said and gave Mangino a look of disgust. “Listen, Mangino, I got a call tonight from Pauly.”

  Mangino laughed. “What did that cry baby want?”

  “Said you been bustin’ his balls.”

  “Give me a fuckin’ break. I oughta kick his fuckin’ ass; runnin’ to you behind my back—the fuckin’ cry baby.”

  “That’s what I’m tryin’ to do. I’m tryin’ to give you every break I can, but you don’t listen to me,” Angelo said, and Mangino’s back stiffened.

  “What?” Mangino said and got angry. “I don’t listen?” he said, pointing to himself.

  “We talked about this. I said you should layoff Pauly and stop stickin’ your hands in other peoples business.”

  “That’s a totally different matter between me and Pauly.”

  “That don’t matter, I told you.”

  “You told me? First of all, you don’t tell me shit, you snot-nose punk. I made my bones when you were still suckin’ on your mother’s tit,” Mangino shouted and started to reach for his gun.

  “Mikey.”

  Black stepped up behind Mangino and put his gun to the back of his head. He cocked the hammer and reached around to take Mangino’s gun. Then h
e came and stood next to Angelo.

  “What the fuck is this, Angelo? Who is this nigger?”

  “I’m your executioner.”

  Angelo took out his gun and pointed it at Mangino. Black raised Mangino’s gun, and they shot Mangino several times in the head and chest. Black dropped Mangino’s gun on his chest and followed Angelo out of the alley.

  Once they were in the car and away from the scene, Angelo turned to Black. “So what you wanna talk to me about, Mikey?”

  “We good to talk in here?”

  “Had it swept a couple of hours ago.”

  “I hear from the police that our mutual friend had visitors last night.”

  “I heard that too; just not from the cops. Any idea why that happened?”

  “Some people say that he was doin’ business with the wrong people; and those people were having problems of their own: Problems that attracted the attention of a certain detective. I hear that his visitors thought that it was only a matter of time before this certain detective put certain facts together, and it was time to clean up loose ends,” Black said as they pulled up in front of Angelo’s social club.

  Angelo got out of the car and walked a few steps before he stopped and turned to Black. “I’ll tell you the truth, Mikey, I heard all about it.”

  “I knew that you had.”

  “I’ll tell you something else: I knew about Stark and PR. What I didn’t know was that PR was Jasper Robinson’s little girl, and that she was involved with Nick. I swear on my children, Mikey, if I had known that, I woulda put a stop to it myself. I know the position that put you in, so I understand why Stark had to die.” Angelo took a step closer. “But Mikey, Stark was a good earner. It’s gonna be hard to replace him. And with Moon dead, too, I don’t see nobody in that camp that can step up and fill that void. But that’s not your problem, Mikey, it’s mine. You did what you had to do to keep everybody out the joint; and I include myself in that,” Angelo said and held out his hand. The two old friends shook hands. But Black knew that their friendship required more of him.

  Chapter Six

  With Angelo taken care of, Black had Victor drive him to Cuisine. They went inside, and Black went straight to the bar and got a bottle of Rémy. He sat down at his table and poured himself a drink. With the club closed and all of the staff gone home for the night, the only ones there were Black and Victor. “You goin’ home, Black?” Victor asked.

  “No. You go on and get outta here.”

  “Everything all right?”

  “Yeah.” Black said and poured himself another shot of Rémy. “I’m waitin’ on a lady.”

  After Victor left, Black remembered the first time he saw Carmen’s picture on the cover of a magazine. When he looked up, Carmen was coming through the door.

  “Hello Mike,” Carmen said and walked toward the table. As she got closer, she could see the half-empty bottle on the table in front of him. “So do you always sit here getting drunk alone in the dark?”

  “No. I was waiting for you.”

  “How’d you know I was coming?” Carmen stood in front of him. She had changed from the Teri Jon dress, and was wearing black jeans and pumps and an ivory blouse, but she still had the pearls around her neck.

  “I didn’t. I just hoped you would.”

  “I see you still drink Rémy.”

  “And you still drink Bacardi on the rocks?”

  “Still.”

  “Can I get you one?”

  “Sure,” Carmen said, and Black stood up and went to the bar. “And turn on some lights, please. I wanna see the place.”

  When Black got to the bar, he flipped on some lights so Carmen could see. While he poured her a drink, Carmen looked around. “Very nice, Mr. Black; I’m impressed.”

  “I’m glad you like it,” Black said, and met Carmen in the middle of the dance floor with her drink.

  “Thank you,” Carmen said and took a sip of her drink. She looked him up and down. Suddenly, she was eighteen again, and desperately in love with the man that stood in front of her. “I always wondered how I’d feel if I ever saw you again.”

  “How do you feel, Carmen?” Black questioned and stepped closer to her.

  Carmen looked up into his eyes. “Part of me wants to slap the shit outta you for what you did to me.”

  “I guess I deserve it,” Black said, stepping even closer to Carmen. Close enough that she could slap him if she really wanted to.

  “You do deserve it,” Carmen said, dropping her head. She took a deep breath. “I was devastated when you left me, Mike. You broke my heart. There were times when I felt so bad, I wanted to just die and be done with it.”

  Black didn’t say anything.

  What could he say?

  “But then at the same time, I knew in my heart that I should be thanking you. Because if you hadn’t dumped me, I would never have gotten serious about my career, ’cause all I wanted to do was be with you. And the only future I had in mind, back then, was having a bunch of your babies.”

  “If that’s the case, I’m glad I was able to help.” Black extended his hand toward his table. Carmen walked past him and he inhaled her perfume. He held the chair for her as Carmen sat down.

  “You really did. My work, focusing on my career, it’s what saved me, kept me sane. I was so in love with you, and everything about you. And what used to fuck me up was that I felt like you loved me, too, and I couldn’t understand why we weren’t together.”

  Black reached out for Carmen’s hands. “All I can say, Carmen, is that I’m sorry I hurt you.” He held her hands tightly. “But please, believe me; it hurt me to do it.”

  Carmen looked up and smiled a little. “Really?”

  “Really, Carmen; I never wanted to hurt you.” He started to admit that he was in love with her, and that’s why it hurt so much, but that was way too much information for this conversation. “I did what I thought was right at the time.”

  “And that is the only reason that I couldn’t hate you. Because I knew you were right.”

  “You forgive me?”

  “I’m still here and I haven’t slapped you yet, have I?” Carmen said and finished her drink.

  “Yet.” Black picked up her glass and went to the bar to freshen it. He returned to the table with the bottle.”

  “You plannin’ on getting me drunk?”

  “No. I hope you plan on staying a while.”

  “I might. Depends on how good the conversation is.”

  “You know I’ve always been a very cunning linguist.”

  “I remember.” Carmen smiled.

  Black smiled at her. “It’s good to see you, Carmen.”

  “It’s good to see you too.”

  For the next couple of hours, they drank and talked. Carmen told him about her “life after Black” story, as she called it. She talked about why, at thirty-five, she had finally put modeling behind her and moved on to something new. A tear rolled down Carmen’s cheek when she told him about how her sister, Desiree was murdered, and how that led to her meeting Marcus.

  As he sat and listened to the parts of her life that Carmen shared, Black couldn’t help but stare at her. To him, Carmen looked better now than she did seventeen years ago—if that was possible.

  Carmen picked up the bottle of Bacardi and poured herself another drink. “So, you still in the same business?” she asked.

  “Didn’t you ask me that already?”

  “Yes, and you gave me the polite dinner conversation answer. But that didn’t answer my question, and you know it.”

  “Yes, Carmen, I’m still in the same business, with different levels of involvement, but the answer is yes.”

  “When’s the last time you killed somebody?” Black started to answer, but Carmen interrupted him, “Be honest.”

  “Yesterday.”

  “How many?”

  “Actually, or just responsible for?”

  “Never mind, don’t tell me. Things haven’t changed.”

 
“Some things have,” Black said, reaching into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a picture and handed it to Carmen. “Some things have changed a lot.”

  “Is this your daughter?” Carmen asked, and Black nodded his head. “She’s adorable. How old is she?”

  “Her name is Michelle, and she’s three.”

  “Look at her, all ladylike and sophisticated, with her dress and those gloves.”

  “She is quite the little lady,” Black said as Carmen handed him back the picture.

  “Picture that, Mike Black a daddy.” Even though she had done it earlier that evening, Carmen glanced at his left hand. “Is there a Mrs. Mike Black?”

  “There was, but she died.”

  “I’m sorry,” Carmen said.

  “So am I,” Black told her, and an uncomfortable silence slipped in between them, so he changed the subject before Carmen could ask any questions. “What about you? I notice that there’s no big diamond on your finger,” Black said and touched her hand.

  “No, no ring.”

  “What about Marcus?”

  Carmen eased her hand away from his and poured herself another shot of Bacardi. “I love Marcus. I was going to marry Marcus; then I heard my career calling and I ran back to Europe. But I was really running away from him.”

  “So what are you doing here?”

  “I moved back from Paris to take this job eight months ago. I get a call from Marcus two weeks ago saying that he needed a break from Atlanta, and he was thinking about moving to New York and opening a practice here. Two days later, he was here.”

  “Maybe you two can make it this time?”

  “I don’t think so. Marcus needs some time and space right now,” Carmen said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I shouldn’t be telling you all his personal business, but a woman he was involved with shot him in the head, and then killed herself in his office.”

  “A change of city might be good for him.”

  “I agree. But I think he’s really up here trying to get away from a woman named Angela, who’s been blowing up his phone since he got here. But since we’re just friends, I’m not asking any questions.”