“Yes,” Silver said. “I'd like to speak to Detective Squassoni, in Homicide.”
Silver, Birdie, and Diego waited in a silver Lexus parked on the corner of 163rd Street and Broadway. Silver had called Hollis five hours earlier to tell him where to meet them and to be on time. Hollis told Silver that King Papone would be with him. Chubbs had told Silver that this would happen, because Papone would want to see for himself the people he would be doing business with, so without hesitation she told Hollis that they would only be dealing with him. He agreed. Chubbs and Beasley had had Hollis under surveillance for over a week, watching his movements and habits. From what they gathered about Hollis, he was a major trick, and he fucked a different girl every night at the same place, an apartment above his club. He always met them inside the club and then took them home to sleep with them. He didn't drink or get high and was always on point. But they found out something else about Hollis that no one knew. Hollis went to church every Sunday up in the Bronx. Beasley followed him inside, and sure enough, Hollis was inside on his knees, praying and praising God like the other folks.
Chubbs and Beasley trailed Hollis in Beasley's van and called him on their cell phone when they got within five blocks.
“Play ball!” Chubbs said, closing the phone. Beasley pulled up directly in front of them and parked. Hollis opened the door, got out, and walked over to the Lexus.
Birdie eyed Hollis as Silver got out of the driver's seat and went over to open the door for Diego. Diego shook Hollis’ hand and glanced at Papone staring at him from the car. Frowning with disgust, Diego said to Hollis, “Let's take a walk.”
As they walked past the car, Papone stared intently at them. One by one, the locals walked up to Diego and started kissing his hand and making the sign of the cross. It was obvious that Hollis was shocked and realized that perhaps he had underestimated the man.
As they did a walk talk, Birdie was compelled to stop the people from crowding as Diego waved and smiled at them all.
“Why do you fuck with a cockroach like Papone?” Diego said as they walked. “I don't like that putta! What do you think of him, amigo?”
“Who, Papone?” Hollis asked. He sucked his teeth and chumped him off. “Fuck that fat fuckin’ spic. I'm just using Pa-pone's ass to get where I got to go. As soon as I get my shit right, I'm gonna take his ass out, too!”
Diego smiled. “Good, good answer. Be ready to deal tomorrow. I'll call you to tell you where.”
With that, Birdie stood in front of Hollis, blocking him from going any further.
Hollis looked up at Birdie. “A'ight, man, I get the picture,” he grumbled, and walked off.
It was close to four in the morning when Beasley and Chubbs slowly exited the van. They walked up to the club's front door and stuck key after key into the lock until they finally had a match. They got in so quickly that no one even noticed. Well, almost no one. Stickbroom Johnny watched them a moment and then went about his business.
With the last phase of the operation completed, Silver called Hollis and told him to bring the money and meet them at Pier 79 on the Hudson at exactly six o'clock that evening. Pa-pone, not trusting Hollis’ crew, had told Hollis that he planned to use his own men to do the pickup and would be waiting nearby and watching his every move.
At exactly six, Hollis, Papone, and four of his men pulled up and parked at an angle where they could see everyone who entered the pier. They waited about ten minutes before Beasley, who had arrived by boat, walked up to their car, startling them all. Hollis rolled down the window.
“Ya take de money to de boat,” Beasley said.
Hollis popped the trunk and exited the vehicle, while Beasley hopped in the rear of the Jeep. Hollis took a huge duffel bag full of cash out of the trunk and nodded to Papone. Walking unsteadily, he approached the narrow pier. Silver noticed that he looked particularly gray. She smiled. They had done their research well. Chance said Hollis had come to this country from Haiti on a death boat. He had arrived in Miami harbor haunted by the grisly images of many people dying during his journey. Because the boat had been undersized and carried a minimal amount of food, chaos and anarchy had mounted until the journey had become survival of the fittest. Old men and women that the younger men deemed unfit to take up the much-needed space were thrown overboard. Hol-lis had seen a swarm of frenzied sharks eat them alive. Since he was only nine years old, some had attempted to throw him overboard as well, but he cut the throat of the first man who put his hands on him. Seeing his tenacious spirit for life, the group of ruffians let him be, but refused to give him food or water, so he survived on his own by eating maggots and seaweed and drinking rainwater.
Now Diego and Birdie waited on the boat. Diego told Hol-lis to place the money down in front of him. He did. Birdie, gun in hand, quickly hopped out of the speedboat and bent to retrieve it while Hollis cautiously eyed Birdie. Birdie picked up the bag, eyes not leaving him for a second, then backed up and hopped in the boat.
“So what about the shit?” Hollis said.
Diego started up the motor and yelled over the roar of the engine. “The guy in your car will take you over to the next pier. There will be a truck full of furniture; inside is the product. My man will stay there with you until you count it up.”
Diego sped off before he could ask another question.
Beasley waited for Hollis to get into the car. He knew that on top of a nearby bridge, Silver, Chubbs, and his four brothers were watching Hollis complete the transaction. When Hollis got into the car, he choked from the hydro that Beasley puffed. “Yo, dred, can you put that out?” For an answer, Beasley took a slow drag of the blunt and blew smoke in his face. Hollis glared at him. “Where we going, man?”
Beasley smiled. “Drive, mon.”
Beasley led them into another pier about a half mile down the highway and pointed to a white cargo truck parked at the end. Four Spanish guys stepped out of their car and cautiously scanned the entire area. They nodded to Papone, who emerged from his vehicle and glanced around. Hollis climbed out of the Jeep, walked to the rear of the truck, and tried to lift the latch, but it was locked. He turned to look at Beasley, who smiled and swung a set of keys before tossing them to Hollis, who then opened the lock. Hollis examined the furniture for a moment and then pulled out his knife and began to cut the back of a chair open. He reached in, pulled out two bundles wrapped in gray tape, and flashed a smile at Papone. Papone gestured for his men to get into the cargo truck, where the three of them slit open furniture and began counting the kilos. Others tested each and every bag.
When they were finally finished, they nodded to a nonchalant Beasley. “Is ere ting irrie?” he asked them. They nodded, and Beasley walked toward the highway with a Jamaican swagger.
After Beasley was out of sight, Papone gave Hollis a pat on the back. “Amigo, everything you said was true. We should make millions off this shipment.” Hollis smiled, not so much over the money at stake, but because he felt he had finally entered the ranks as a drug kingpin. Though Hollis was notoriously famous as a killer, he wasn't respected—he was feared. There was a difference. Only drug lords seemed to have it all— money, power, and respect. Hollis had always wanted his name to be as renowned as ghetto legends such as Nicky, Fritz, Fat Cat, and Alpo.
Papone said that he would take it from there, that he would call Hollis tomorrow to give him a million-dollar advance. Hollis's dick hardened from the euphoria. It was time for him to celebrate his induction into the big time, so he headed uptown to his favorite spot. He smiled as he thought that only the nastiest of nasty freaks would do tonight.
Chapter 28
SHOWDOWN
The sun was just beginning to set when the cargo truck pulled into traffic behind Papone's car. They had driven less than a mile before they ran into slow-moving traffic pouring into an underpass. As they proceeded through the pitch-black underpass, traffic came to a complete stop. Behind the cargo truck, Chubbs and his two brothers patiently waited for the men i
n the truck to pass out from carbon monoxide poisoning. They had rigged a tube from the exhaust system to the underside of the instrument panel in the cab and removed the window cranks. The colorless, odorless gas was making its way into their bloodstream, and after about ten minutes, the two men would not even know what had hit them as they drifted off to a sleepy death.
The traffic jam had been prearranged, and everything proceeded smoothly. After exactly fifteen minutes, Chubbs crept to the cab of the truck, pulled the two limp bodies out, and tossed them to the side of the tunnel, covering them with a blanket. Chubbs’ brother Lloyd jumped into the driver's seat of the truck, smashed open the window, and called ahead for the all-clear. Lamont hopped in beside him. At the first exit, Lloyd swiftly turned off. Papone's car kept going, not noticing the unscheduled detour until, moments later, the car came to a sudden halt. Unmindful of oncoming traffic, the driver of the car peeled around and sped in pursuit of the cargo truck. Chubbs smiled.
Hollis was already at the club, the Uptown Garage, throwing big money at the bartender, telling him, “Champagne for everybody.” Girls from all over began surrounding Hollis as he pulled out fifties and hundreds and threw them around. Hollis had his choice of women tonight and was looking at all the desperate faces trying to get his attention.
Suddenly, a thick-booty girl bum-rushed through the crowd of girls and whispered in his ear from behind, “I want you to put your big dick in my mouth, my pussy, and my ass! And when you're about to come, I want you to come all over my face!” Hollis’ eyes lit up as he turned around and saw the familiar face and an even more familiar ass. It was Slim Goody. Hollis said, “Oh, shit! If it ain't … ?” trying to remember her name.
“Let me help you,” she said. She took his hand and put it under her tight dress. She was wearing no panties, and pushed his hand deep inside her wet pussy. Staring him straight in the eyes, she pulled it out and licked his dripping fingers dry. Hollis knew that he'd found the right one tonight, and all he could think was how he was gonna put a black eye on the pussy. He took her by the hand and led her out the door.
Papone circled the highway, praying that the truck had broken down or something. But his question was soon answered when his driver noticed a foot sticking out from under a cover at the side of the tunnel. Papone cursed vigorously in Spanish as they got out of the vehicle and lifted up the blanket to see his two men lying dead underneath. He tossed his cigar to the ground and yelled, “Hollis!”
Papone and his men arrived in front of Hollis’ club, tires screeching. He jumped out of his car and headed straight for Butterfly, who was in the process of unlocking the front door of the club. Papone grabbed him, threw him up against the gate, and wrapped his fingers tightly around his throat. “Where is Hollis?” he demanded.
Eyes bulging, Butterfly gasped for breath.
“You the one dat introduced Hollis to dat girl, weren't you?”
Butterfly nodded.
“Do you know where she live?”
“Yeah … I mean yes, Mr. Papone!”
Papone stepped closer. “You go dere now and bring dat black bitch back to me, you understand?” Butterfly nodded again. “And amigo, if you don't find her, you don't be coming back.” Papone let him go then, and motioned to two of his men to go with him.
Missy watched Silver put her bags into the trunk of a cab, then look around one last time, perhaps hoping Missy would suddenly appear. Silver shook her head, then hopped into the cab. Missy watched as the cab drove east on 110th Street and rounded the corner, then she hurried toward her building, praying that there was some cocaine left inside the apartment. Frantically, she put the key in the lock and rushed inside without closing the door. She quickly looked around for the furniture, but it was gone. She ran into the kitchen and opened up every cabinet and drawer in search of the opened kilo package she had left behind, and cursed when she didn't find any. She remembered she had left some coke on the mirror from Butterfly's visit, and ran to the closet. Bingo! It was still there. She brought the mirror to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, looking for the baking soda to cook it up with, but couldn't find it. She slammed the door shut and for the first time noticed the note attached to the refrigerator door. She snatched it off and read. Missy, stay out of the apartment. I'm at LaGuardia Airport, leaving town, American Airlines Flight #426 to Miami at 11:45 p.m. She put the paper inside her pocket and snorted the drugs, but still wasn't satisfied, so she lapped at the powder with her tongue, ingesting it orally. When she had licked the mirror clean, she sighed and looked up. Three guns were pointed at her face.
Inside the club, Papone's cell phone rang. He quickly opened it. “Yeah? Good, go dere, pick her up, and bring her back here, but don't kill her. But before you do, bring back de one you got now.” Papone closed the phone and stared up at the ceiling.
Directly upstairs, Hollis was fucking the shit out of Slim Goody. She was yelling bloody murder, but told him not to stop. “Ahh … oui … oui … yeah, that's right, right there, you black motherfucka!” Hollis had no problem filling the order. “Oh, oh, now fuck me in my ass, baby, fuck me!”
Hollis said, “You freak fucking bitch!” and pulled his dick out of her pussy and quickly shoved it up her ass.
Slim Goody closed her eyes as he rammed her mercilessly. “Oui … oww … oui … that's riiiight, daddy, right fuckin’ there, right there … oh shit … fuck the shit out of me, daddy … fuck me!” Hollis was pounding her so feverishly that dribbles of spit fell on her backside. Moments later, he busted off a sixteen-ounce nut deep inside of her, and his sperm oozed out like a river. Hollis and Goodie sprawled totally exhausted across the bed.
After ten minutes or so, Hollis finally found the strength to get up. He looked over at Slim Goody, who was sleeping, and smiled wickedly, because it was said that if you make a girl fall asleep right after you had sex, it meant that you'd fucked her well. Then Hollis frowned as he smelled the pungent odor of shit in the air. He looked down and noticed that Slim's shit was on his dick and pubic hairs. He quickly got up and went to the bathroom to take a shower.
At LaGuardia Airport, Silver breathed easier as she waited outside the terminal, desperately hoping Missy had found the note and would arrive before her flight boarded in an hour. She searched every face in each passing cab, and only idly noticed a black Lincoln that slowed to let out a passenger. It was only when the Lincoln stopped in front her that she noticed a grim-faced man inside staring intently at her. She knew immediately that she had fucked up. Her mind told her to run, but it was too late. From behind, a man quickly shoved her inside the vehicle, which drove off without anyone even noticing that she had been kidnapped.
After Hollis closed the door to the bathroom, Slim Goodie jumped up from her faked slumber and looked cautiously at the bathroom door. She grabbed her purse, pulled out a narrow folder and quickly stuffed it inside Hollis'jacket. As an afterthought, she reached inside his pants, pulled out a roll of money, and peeled off a few bills—all hundreds—and replaced the remaining money neatly. Then she lay back down and closed her eyes, smiling to herself as she whispered, “I told you I was gonna make you pay, you black bastard!”
The car pulled up in front of the club, screeching to a halt. Silver was yanked out of the car and shoved through the front door.
Hollis had just gotten out of the shower. He heard the tires screeching and looked out the window. He saw Papone's car and others parked in front and knew something was terribly wrong. His mouth dropped when he saw them pull Silver out of the car. Hollis ran over to the bed and dressed quickly. Putting on all of his clothes, he grabbed his jacket off the chair and walked toward the door. Slim yelled, “Hey you forgot to pay me!” Hollis didn't even hear her as he ran down the stairs.
Papone circled Silver and said, “I don't know what is going on. But I know one thing. Either I'm gonna have my money, my drugs, or your life.”
Silver tried to bluff. “Mister, I don't know what you're talking.”
Papone
struck her viciously across her mouth. “I know everything about your little scheme, so don't lie to me!” he shouted. He turned toward one of his men, who stepped into the back room and emerged moments later with Missy, who looked strung out. Silver's heart dropped, and Papone smiled.
The two men brought Missy toward Papone and Silver. Missy shook nervously, unable to look Silver in the eyes. Silver searched Missy's face, praying desperately that she hadn't done what she thought she did. “Missy,” she said. Missy slowly raised her head. “Missy,” Silver repeated. “Oh, God, tell me you didn't?”
Missy said nothing, but lowered her head.
Papone smirked. “Yes, she did. She told us about your little plan, about Chance, everything. She sold you out for a twenty-dollar bag of crack.”
Silver looked at Missy, unable to believe what she was hearing. Anger overcame her emotions. “You fucking bitch!” she cried. “Do you know what you've done?” Missy started to cry and looked up at Silver. Her mouth moved, but no words came out. “Oh, my God, Missy, you got us both killed!”
Missy quickly shook her head. “No, Silver. They said that all we have to do is give them back the drugs and they'll let us both go!”
Silver looked at Missy and shook her head. “And you believed them?”
Papone smiled. “She is telling you de truth. Give me my drugs and I'll give you your lives.”
Just then Hollis burst through the front door, took one frantic look around, and began yelling, “What the fuck is going on?” He walked toward Papone, eyeing Missy and Silver.
“Where you been?” Papone demanded.
Hollis gestured upstairs with his thumb. “Been partyin’ with—” Looking in Silver's eyes, he realized all at once that the girl in front of him was Chance's girl, and that he'd been played.
“Apparently, amigo” Papone said, “we both have been set up by your friend Chance.”
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