03_Cornered Coyote (16 page)

He pushed Slade away from him. "Let me look at you. You sorta skinny. You need some of Gino’s good lasagna to fatten you up. If your uncle saw you lookin’ like this, there’d probably be a contract out on me for not takin’ better care of you."

Gino turned to Mario. “A man called Chico will be arrivin’ shortly. If his cholos show up, throw them out, orders are orders. This here meetin’s between Slade and Chico and nobody else is invited. Got it?"

"Yeah, boss, no problem," Mario said as he turned and walked out the door.

“Slade, Papa and me got us a new little business goin’, so don’t want you lightin’ up in here. Some guys are havin’ trouble buyin’ C-4 plastic explosives. We’re helpin’ them solve that little problem. That file cabinet’s filled with it. Gonna’ be sendin’ it to my customers in the Middle East for a little bomb-makin’ business they got goin’ over there. Gonna smuggle it out of the country next week on a ship from the LA port. Jes’ wanted to give you a heads up ‘cuz if that shit ever blows, this whole place will go up like a fireworks display on the 4
^th
of July.”

"No problem, Gino. I’ve pretty much given up smokin’. The business I got with Chico’s private. Any chance ya’ still have that hidden basement room? Like to meet with him there if I could."

"Sure. Let me slide the refrigerator out for you. Hasn't changed much since the last time you two were down there. What's it been, about twenty years?"

"Yeah, jes’ about."

They heard voices coming from the front of the restaurant. Mario opened the door to Gino's office and Chico walked in. He looked at Slade and smiled wryly. They stared at each other for a few seconds and then both of them burst out laughing.

"You, God damn son-of-a-bitch! You probably would have pulled it off if it hadn’t been for the butterfly birthmark behind her ear. I should have known it was you. No one else would have had the balls, much less be clever enough to do it. I can't believe I fell for it, but I might have to thank you. That broad you sent me is one hell of a lay. I thought about killing her, but I decided to keep her around for 'entertainment,’ if you know what I mean,” he said, with a leering grin on his face. “Slade, this better be good. It was one hell of an elaborate scam. So what have you got and what the hell do you want from me?”

"Let's go downstairs. I'm sure you remember the last time we were down there. Matter of fact, seem to remember that you tol' me you owed me big time and we were blood brothers. Well, guess what. I jes’ collected. See you when we finish, Gino. Jes’ don't want ears hearin’ this. Ya’ unnerstan?"

"Yeah, boys, take as long as you need. Got a lot of numbers to check out. Think there may be some skimmin’ goin’ on. See you later."

They walked down the steps to the basement. The room hadn't changed much since the last time they’d been there.

"Okay, Slade, shoot. I don't think either one of us should spend any more time here than we have to," Chico said, sitting down at the poker table in the middle of the room under a bare hanging light bulb with wire wrapped around it.

"Ya’ know most of it already, but I’ll repeat it. Here’s the deal. There's a broad, classy broad, in the Presley jail out in Riverside. She's been arrested for murderin’ her husband almost a year ago. She's a looker. Mutual friend wants to keep her from becomin’ someone's 'bitch'. I called in a couple of chits and was able to put her in isolation for a few weeks, but time’s almost up. I need ya’ to keep her safe the entire time she's in jail awaitin’ trial and if she has to go to prison, I want her to be safe there."

"Prison! Man, you know what you’re askin’? Yeah, I've worked my way up, but if anybody finds out – some of my boys know who you are and they hate you for gettin’ the goods on Diego and helpin' the DA put him away for life. Your name’s mentioned on the street and not in a good way. They also know you’ve done some work for the FBI suits who’ve put a few of our best guys away. I called the jail a little while ago, but I don’t want any connection to you. It could get me killed, but yes, I know I owe you and I guess it’s payback time.”

“Thanks, bro. We’re even now. Yer’ keeping her from getting’ raped or wishin’ she was dead. Debt’s paid in full.”

Just as Chico was about to open his mouth to reply, gunshots echoed from above.

"Son of a bitch! We've gotta get the fuck outta here double quick. Something’s gone wrong upstairs. I hope to hell that safe house is still there," Slade said as he and Chico sprinted across the basement and opened the secret door behind the bookcase, the same one they’d used twenty years earlier.

Just as they were entering the concealed passageway, the basement door opened and Mario yelled down, "It’s the feds! Gino's been shot. I don’t think he’s going to make it. He told me to tell you to get to the safe house. I'm going to try and get him out. There’s explosives in his office and if they accidently get hit, this whole place is gonna’ blow. Run for your lives!”

Two minutes later they heard a tremendous explosion rip through the building behind them. The explosion was so strong that the tunnel walls threatened to buckle and close off the escape passageway.

"Hurry, Slade, if this thing collapses, we're gonna be trapped in here forever with no air. Keep movin’." They ran at full tilt, trying to put some distance between them and Gino’s building or what, if anything, was left of it.

"Jesus,” Slade said, panting, “that blast musta done some real damage. Smoke’s comin’ in through the manholes. I can barely breathe." He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and covered his mouth and nose. "Don't stop. I think we're getting’ close to the stairs.”

The farther they ran in the opposite direction of the explosion, the clearer the air became. "I see it," Slade yelled, racing up the steel stairs with Chico ahead of him. Chico opened the door on the back side of a bookcase and pulled Slade into the room. They put their backs to the wall and slid to the floor, gasping for breath.

After a few minutes, Slade pushed himself up, shakily walked over to the sink, and poured two large glasses of water for them. He handed one to Chico. "Drink this. If yer’ lungs are as singed as mine are, they're gonna say thank you."

A few minutes later they turned on the small television set on the kitchen counter and stared in horror at the devastation shown on the screen. A breathless TV reporter was describing the scene of an explosion that had occurred after a federal raid had gone bad. All of the local stations were carrying the story with live camera footage streaming in from helicopters circling above.

Gino’s Pizzeria and several other buildings had been blown to smithereens by the explosion. Talking heads at the scene of the blast were commenting on the carnage. First reports indicated that the only casualties were several federal agents and some men who had been inside Gino’s when the blast occurred. Several nearby buildings had been leveled, but fortunately they were unoccupied when the blast occurred. The fire and police authorities wouldn’t know for sure the exact body count until they sifted through the debris from the shattered buildings. The confirmed death toll from the shootout and explosion was initially set at sixteen, but the destroyed buildings were still being searched for more bodies. The feds were already issuing reports that it was one of the worst bloodbaths in the history of the department.

"Sweet Jesus," Chico said. "Ya’ think they got our pictures enterin’ the restaurant?"

“Sure as hell they did. Rumor's been out for a while that the place was bein’ watched."

"Slade, you're a hell of a lot more legit than I am. Tell you what. You make sure our photos never see the light of day and I'll make doubly sure the Brooks broad is safe for as long as she’s in jail. I’ll also make sure she’ll be safe even if she goes to prison. Deal?"

“Yeah, might be able to make it happen. Time for ya’ to leave."

Chico put his hand on Slade's shoulder. "If you ever want to cross over to my side, I could use you. Think about it. I owe you again." He turned and walked out the door.

CHAPTER 29

As soon as Chico was gone, Slade called Papa Romano. “Have ya’ seen the news?”

“Lookin’ at it now. You get out okay?”

“Yeah, Chico and I made it out, but I don’t think Gino and Mario did. From what they’re sayin’ on the tube, looks like it was a real bloodbath. We were bein’ watched. Sure as hell they have our pics in their database by now."

“I was thinkin’ the same thing. Got any ideas?”

“Met with Maureen O’Shaughnessy a few weeks ago. Got her daddy’s private number. Don’t know why I asked her for it, but I did. I’m gonna call him and see if he can make that tape disappear.”

“Slade, he’s a very powerful man.”

“That he is, Papa, but he’s got more to lose than I do. When yer’ re-election for United States Senate is on the line, ain't much that power can do. Call ya’ when I know somethin’.”  

Slade took his wallet out and looked at the number Maureen had given him. He punched it in and the call was picked up on the first ring. "This is Senator O’Shaughnessy."

"Hi. Senator. This is a voice from the past, Slade Kelly. How ya' doin'?"

There was silence on the other end of the line, then the senator spoke. "Maureen told me she'd given you my number. I thought we had an agreement that you would never get in touch with me under any circumstances."

"Well, that was my plan, but things have a way of changin’. Ya' see, besides you, Chico, and Papa Romano, I'm the only one who knows what happened to yer’ wife the afternoon she died. Kinda like to keep it that way, but got a little favor to ask of ya’ that might insure that I never get in touch with ya’ again."

"Slade, we decided long ago that our relationship was finished.”

"Yeah, that's right. The reason yer’ a senator is because no one found out about yer’ wife's affair with your opponent when ya’ were runnin’ for that senate seat. Think with what I'm gonna ask, we'll be even now. You’ve been a senator for how long now? Probably wouldn’t be there if people knew. Unnerstan’ you've got some opposition in the upcomin’ primary and he’s got deep pockets. If it ever leaked that out that the senator he was runnin’ against hired a hit on his wife rather than her bein’ killed in a strong-arm robbery, not sure you'd still be the chairman of some of those 'portant committees, committees like the one on Mafia Activities."

"What do you want from me, Slade? This is blackmail, pure and simple. If it’s money, tell me. If not, get to the bottom line and tell me what it is you want."

"Well, there was a little incident in the ghetto out here in LA tonight. It's all over the television.”

"Yes, I just heard about it. Why?"

"Here's what I need. Think the feds were watchin’ us. Pretty sure our pictures are in their database by now. Think it would sure help yer’ primary campaign if ya’ made that information disappear, you bein' the head of the committee that oversees things like that."

"Do you know what you're asking me to do? Destroy evidence in a case where ten federal agents were killed? Are you crazy? No, Slade, I can't do this. Were you there? Are you worried that you might have been photographed?"

"Nah, just pullin' your chain. Well, I got a few other calls I gotta make. ’Fresh my memory, Senator. What's the name of yer’ opponent in the June primary?"

There was a long silence on the senator's end, then he spoke. "Slade, I can probably make your problem go away in return for making my problem go away. Do we have an understanding?'

"Sure thing, Senator. Hate to see pictures of anybody I know on the television screen when they talk ‘bout this ‘lil ol’ federal incident that happened tonight. Mighty grateful if you'd make it go away. Kinda hard thinkin’ ‘bout yer’ wife's tragic death all those years ago."

"All right Slade. This conversation never happened. I've just been called into a meeting regarding the firefight and explosion. I'll make a couple of calls for you. Good night."

"Night, Senator. Been a pleasure talkin’ to ya’."

CHAPTER 30

“Hey, Brian, it’s Slade. What’s happenin’ on the case? Is Maria okay?”

“Yes, she’s fine. I see her almost every day. I called one of the guests who stayed at the Blue Coyote Motel and the guy was able to get a couple of other guests at the motel to agree to testify at the trial that Jeffery appeared to be insane. We have a Skype conference next week. I hear that the prosecutor has been out to the motel and is talking to everyone she can find. Evidently she’s interviewed a number of people who worked at Moore Labs as well. Bitch is as mean as a bulldog and as dangerous as a rattlesnake.”

“Sounds like ya’ got a real challenge ahead of ya’. Imagine it was a bummer of a Christmas for Maria and Jordan. Well, let’s hope it goes to trial when it’s supposed to in February.”

“A thought just occurred to me. Do you know whatever happened to that reporter who ran a couple of stories on them? Jordan said his neighbor told him he rented the reporter a room for a week or so. Then the reporter left with no trace, actually stole some stuff from him, and stiffed him for the rent. Five will get you ten Marsha’s moving heaven and earth to find him and get him to testify against Maria, if she hasn’t already found him. As of this moment I’m hiring you to find out everything you can about the guy. If anyone can do it, you can.”

“I’m on it. I’ll get back to you when I know sumpin’. Know anything about the guy?”

“No. The only thing I know about him is the name of the tabloid that published the article. He didn’t run a byline. Probably didn’t want anyone to know who wrote it. See what you can find out. By the way, Maria pays well. Talk to you later.”

Slade ended the call and yelled, “Brad, get yer’ ass in here! Gotta project for ya’. Ya’ know that scumbag who wrote the article on Jordan and Maria for Celebrity Spotlight? Want ya’ to get me everything ya’ can on him. Find out his name, his habits, any dirty secrets, get an address, past employers. Ya’ know the drill.”

“Got it, Boss. When do you want it?”

“Yesterday.”