No, Miriam got herself caught up with something else entirely, and unless she was sold off to a pimp, she won’t be anywhere around here. The boys on this side of town don’t play nice with the guys they refer to as “the Mexicans” or simply “’migos,” because as far as they’re concerned, all Latinos are Mexican.
I don’t have much of an appetite, but try to eat nevertheless. I still got taste buds and the sandwich does taste good, so that helps.
Luna came through with my request and hands me two PDID photos.
“Remember, you get any information on their suppliers, you call me,” Luna says.
“You know I will.”
“And you’re buying at the Old Ebbitt when we go.”
“Now you’re getting pushy.”
“You haven’t seen pushy yet, brother. You’ve been asking a lot of favors of me recently.”
“I know. I know. So what do you got working with this Edgar Soto homicide?” I inquire.
“Routine shit. Lot of names on his cell phone we’re looking into. Most of them come back to cells, so they’re not listed in the Haines phone directory. We got a nice stash of weed out of a storage shed in his backyard. He had it stashed under the lawn mower. No father so I guess he’s in charge of mowing the lawn; it seemed like a good spot.”
“One of those names on his phone Calvin or Playboy?”
“Playboy is. How the hell did you get that?”
“A girlfriend of the girl I’m looking for is running with him. I interviewed her. His first name’s Calvin, but everyone calls him Playboy. The girlfriend knew the decedent. I had a feeling Playboy did, too, and also might be good for information as to my missing girl’s whereabouts.”
“You give that to Davidson?”
“Fuck no. Well, I gave him the info I had on the girlfriend, but that’s it. I don’t like the Feds he’s working with. They’re rookies, and I’m sure they’ll find a way to fuck it all up.”
“That’s a good unit Davidson’s with, Frankie. They do good work. It’s hard work.”
“I’m not gonna argue with that. I know it takes a special person to do the kinda work he does, but this has to be worked like a narcotics investigation. That’s my way in.”
Luna takes a bite of the pickle that came with the sandwich, chews, and looks toward a group of girls gathered together on a third-floor balcony.
“Look at them there. It’s like they think they’re on some kind of vacation,” he says.
“I’m sure what they’re smoking up makes them feel like they are.”
He turns away to take a bite out of his sandwich, chews a couple of times, and swallows. I’m surprised he doesn’t choke.
“All right, then, you got any other names I should keep on the radar?” he asks.
“Boy named Greg Thomas. He’s Edgar’s running partner. I think he’s worth looking into. And then some kid who I only got a first name on, Robbie. All I know is he’s another friend of Edgar’s, buys weed from him. Both of them probably involved in his little weed-dealing business, too. You’ll roll them easy enough.”
“Man, I hate dealing with juvies. Especially the suburban wannabe kind.”
“I hear ya there.”
“So what’s your angle? You expect me to do the work for you?”
“No. I’ll do all the work and you’ll get all the glory. Don’t worry yourself about that. You got anything on Playboy yet?” I ask evenly.
“No. He was a name just like all the other names we’re working.”
“This Playboy might work the area of Sixteenth and Park, maybe even live somewhere in 3D. He has short-cut hair and drives a newer-model two-door Lexus. That ring a bell?”
“Can’t say it does. I haven’t worked that area since you left.”
“Okay, here’s what I’m thinking. Remember that crackhead we used to use for over-the-phone okeydokes ’cause she had such a sweet young voice?”
“Yeah.” He chuckles. “Tamie Darling. You’d never guess such a sweet voice’d come out of something like that.”
“You’re right about that. You still working her as a special employee?”
“Occasionally.”
“I used her once a few months ago to sweet-talk this witness into a meet so I could drop some papers on him. Then I did some spring cleaning and sorta misplaced her number.”
“And now another favor. Man, they are piling up.”
“This isn’t a favor. I told you, you’re the one that’s gonna reap the rewards. Let me do it the way I do it, and if it’s what I think, you’ll be buying the rounds at Shelly’s.”
“Go on, then.”
“I have good information that this Playboy is distributing narcotics to minors and soliciting minors for prostitution. Also, I know he personally likes his girls very young. I believe he’s either the supplier or connected to whoever was supplying Angelo and company. So I’m thinking why not pull the same game we used to back in the day when we needed to lure in a drug boy for a buy?”
“If he was supplying Angelo and his boys, then he’s a lot more than a little drug boy. I don’t think he’d fall for something like that.”
“I agree he might be a bigger player, but he’s got this weakness.”
“And if he bites?”
“I have a good description and know what he drives. Our girl won’t be there, but I will. All I do is follow him back to wherever he might go.”
“You’re assuming a lot.”
“If it doesn’t pan out, then it’s my waste of time, not yours.”
“So you follow him back to wherever—then what?”
“I don’t know yet. Gonna have to play that part by ear.”
Fifty-four
I set up the meet with Tamie Darling at a safe spot I’ve used with her in the past. It’s a vacant lot on Sherman Avenue, near Howard University. A construction company working in the area uses it to store some of their larger trailers.
I get there early and drive in and park between two of the trailers.
Drug addicts are unpredictable, but they usually make the best confidential informants. Darling makes her living as a special employee for the police department, so she’s generally more dependable than most users and takes what she does seriously. Her habit depends on it, so she’s very good at what she does, especially role-playing. I was the one to originally sign her up and give her a number, so she still does the occasional job for me. Only difference is I pay more for her services than the department does.
She shows up after about twenty minutes. I notice her in my rearview mirror walking across the lot toward my car. She’s still thin as a rail and moves like a drunken model walking on a narrow runway.
I hit the button to unlock the doors. She slides into the front seat with a “Hey, sweetie,” and sets her overloaded fake Gucci purse on the floor between her legs.
“How’re you doing, Tamie?”
“I’m doin’ just fine.”
She pulls a pack of cigarettes out of her purse, taps one out.
I fire it up for her with my lighter.
She takes a long drag and blows the smoke toward the partly open passenger’s side window.
For a crackhead she doesn’t look so bad. She’s not homeless, so she wears clean clothes and takes care of herself most of the time. Her dark skin is smooth and relatively blemish free, but she still has that distinctive smell that can only be associated with smoking crack. It’s slightly nauseating and sweet and finds its way into their skin, like what they’re smoking up is seeping back out from the inside.
“Appreciate you getting here on such short notice.”
“No problem, sweetie.”
She scoots herself so that her back is leaning against the doorframe and she’s facing me.
“You lost some weight since the last time I seen you. Or maybe it’s just that I never seen you outta a suit before.”
“I’m going casual for a bit,” I tell her. “Also might be sitting in this car for a while.”
&
nbsp; “Starting to feel more retired, huh?”
“That, too.”
“So what do ya need from me today, honey?”
“A simple phone call is all, and for that sweet voice of yours to sound like a cute suburban teenager. You think you can manage that?”
“You mean something like this, sweetheart?” she says, trying too hard to sound cute.
“Minus the sweetheart and maybe a little more Caucasian.”
“I can do white girl.”
“You’re gonna be talking to a DC drug boy who goes by the nickname Playboy. He’s got a thing for white Virginia high school girls. I’m thinking the more innocent you sound, the better.”
“Innocent?”
“Young, sweet, virgin…”
“Oh fuck. Virgin?”
“Yeah, white teenage virgin.”
“Shit, Frankie, that might have to cost double.”
“You pull this off, I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry about that.”
“So like what do you want me to talk about?” she asks, using the kind of voice I’m looking for.
“That’s very good, darling. You’re calling for a high school friend of yours, Justine. She got herself grounded.”
“Justine. Okay.”
“I’ll write it down for you. But she got herself grounded and her mom took away her cell phone. You talked to her in school today, and she gave you Playboy’s number to call him for her and see if he can hook the two of you up with some rock.”
“Suburban white girls on crack. That shoulda hit the news. I mean, ‘That should be on the news.’”
“These kids hide their lifestyles well. So listen up. Your friend’s name is Justine. You go to Lake Braddock High in Burke. Her mom picks her up directly from school, so she doesn’t take the bus anymore.”
“So why wouldn’t she just use my cell phone to call him herself?”
“Good question. Because you wouldn’t let her. You want to meet him for yourself. You don’t have a crack connection, just weed. But don’t overthink it, because he’s not gonna. The only thing that’s gonna be doing the thinking for him is his dick, but that’s only if you can pull this off.”
She belts out a throaty smoker’s laugh.
“You just make sure to sound sweet and tempting, and all he’ll be thinking about is hooking up with that voice of yours.”
“What name do I use?”
“Your real name. Tamie. Just don’t give him a last name. I don’t wanna have to follow him all the way from Virginia, so tell him you have a driver’s license and can meet him in Georgetown because you’ve hung out there before with your friends. You can meet on Wisconsin Avenue where it ends just under the bridge, and you’ll be standing right on the sidewalk there.”
“But I won’t be standing there, right?”
“No, of course not. That’s the point. All I want is for him to show up, and then I’ll follow him after he gets tired of waiting. Make up a description, like you’re short and blond and wearing black jeans or something. But be sure to tell him that you have to get the car back before dinner so you have to meet him right after school at, say, four thirty or so. It can’t be later than that or you can’t go. And as innocently as possible make it clear that it’ll be worth his while to show up.”
“Innocent as possible? How the fuck does that sound?”
“Don’t use words like ‘fuck.’ In fact, no cusswords at all.”
“That just wouldn’t sound natural. What the fuck would he want to do with a girl like that?”
“Tamie, you’re a sixteen-year-old white girl from Virginia. That’s all you need to be thinking. You watch TV shows, like reruns of Friends?”
“I seen it on occasion.”
“Well, it’s like the girls on that show, but not the sassy one with black hair, more like the blonde.”
“Okay, I think I got it.”
“Just don’t push the sixteen-year-old girl thing too much or he might get spooked. Lead him just enough to pique his interest and let him ask the questions.”
“Okay.”
I grab my notepad and write down what she needs to remember. I hand it to her.
“Justine, she’s grounded for skipping school. Lake Braddock. You’re in the eleventh grade. You’re calling from school and on break before class. You want to buy a fifty. She calls crack jellybeans.”
“Jellybeans.” Tamie chuckles. “That’s silly.”
“You want to meet him on the corner of Wisconsin and Water right under the bridge, four thirty. Get a description of the car he’ll be in.”
She sets the paper on her lap. “I got it, but what if he asks what kind of car I’m driving?”
“Tell him it’s a newer-model gold Volvo 40. Cops don’t use cars like that.”
“You got a thing for Volvos, sweetie.”
“They’re dependable. Now get into character, girl.”
“Have I ever let you down, Frankie?”
“Never, darling.”
Fifty-five
I have a few cell phones I use for undercover work. I have one that carries a Virginia area code. I set it to record a message greeting and then hand it to Tamie.
She reads from my notepad, “Hi, this is Tamie and I’m not here so please, please leave a message.”
She hands it back to me after it beeps.
“How was that?”
“Good for me. I’ll keep your message on here until I’m done with the investigation, so if it doesn’t work out today and if he calls back, I might have to get right back with you.”
“I’m around.”
“Are you ready for the call?”
“Yeah, hold on.” She takes a last drag from her cigarette and drops it out the window. “Okay.”
I enter his number and tap it to call, then hand her the cell. I can barely hear it ring, and after the third ring a faint, indistinct voice at the other end.
“Is this Playboy?” Tamie asks in a voice that would have me fooled if I closed my eyes.
I lean closer to Tamie to hear as best I can.
“Hi, Playboy. I’m a friend of Justine’s.”
I can’t hear what he says; then he asks, “Who she?”
“Justine, from Lake Braddock High School. In Burke. She said you hooked up a couple of times. She gave me your number.”
“Yeah…” The rest is inaudible, so I move back to a comfortable reclining position and light a cigarette.
“She can’t call you. She got—I mean, she’s grounded and her mom took her cell phone away for skipping school…I don’t know how long she’s grounded for…No…Okay, I’ll tell her to call you when she’s not grounded…Yes, she really, really wanted me to call you for a big favor…Well, we were hoping to get what she got from you before—you know, some jellybeans. I can even drive to DC to save you a trip. I just got my license.”
I give her a thumbs-up for the “license” part.
“I’m almost seventeen…No, I’m white, I mean Caucasian.”
She turns to me and shrugs, like she doesn’t understand why he said or asked what he just did. Maybe it’s something he can sense, ’cause I wouldn’t know the difference if I wasn’t looking at her.
“Blond hair. I’m short, but not too short. Justine said you’re cute…Seriously…Yes…Well, I’m in the eleventh grade…Uh-huh…I have to go to my next class soon, but I can leave here at three…What’s ‘five-oh’?” She shoots me a look and smiles because she knows what it really means. “Police?” she asks, and then chuckles, but it’s a little more refined than her usual deep-throated cackle. “I’m only sixteen. How can I be the police…? No, seriously. You’ll know when you see me…No, that’s so silly…Oh, I drive a gold Volvo. My mom bought a new car, so I got this one…Uh-huh…We’d really like to get a fifty…No, just a fifty. That’s all we can afford…Oh, I don’t know, Playboy.” She chuckles again. “For another fifty? Well, yeah, I guess we could work out some sort of trade. Like what are you talking about…? Uh-huh, I can wa
it till we get together, but I would like to get an extra fifty…Okay, we can talk more then…I don’t know where that is. I know Georgetown and was wondering if we could meet there…You know where Wisconsin ends, just under the bridge by the water…? Yes…I go shopping there sometimes with friends, so I know that part of DC…It has to be around four thirty because I have to get home by dinner or I’ll get grounded too…Yes, I promise, Playboy…Okay…Okay…I’ll see you at four thirty…Oh, wait. What kind of car do you drive, so I can look out for you…? Oh, I like Lexuses, and black is my favorite color…Okay, I’ll be standing on the corner right under the bridge…Okay, bye-bye.”
She disconnects and hands the cell back to me. I check it to make sure it is disconnected and then put it in the center console compartment.
“He’ll be driving a black Lexus?” I ask.
“Yeah, he said it’s new. One of the sporty ones.”
“Black’s your favorite color, huh?”
“Had to make sure he knows that.” She grins.
“Well, it sounded like it went well, except for that ‘five-oh’ part. Talk to me.”
She taps out another cigarette and I light it for her.
After a deep draw on the cig, she says, “He asked that typical shit, ‘How do I know you ain’t five-oh?’ but I’m sure he doesn’t think I am. Like you said, his dick does the thinking for him.”
“Does it sound like he was tight with Justine?”
“Oh yeah, he been getting himself some of that.”
“He told you that?”
“He didn’t have to tell me that directly. I know a man, and the way he talked about her, I know he getting it.”
“What else?”
“He acted all skeptical at first, like he didn’t know who I was talking about, but then he opened up.”
“What was all that talk about another fifty?”
“He wants to tap a bit of that sweet young Tamie ass is what.”
“Straight out said that or insinuated it?”
“Insinuated, I guess. It’s not like he said he wanted me to give him head, but that’s sure as hell what he meant. I can tell you that for certain.”
The Second Girl Page 18