Cicero's Dead (11 page)

“Were you tempted?”

“Can’t say I was. I gave him my cell number in
case he heard anything. There’s nothing sadder though than an old guy who still
yearns for his restless youth.”

“Let’s hope we’re not in that position one day.”

“The rate we’re going we’ll be lucky if we live
‘til next Thursday, much less middle age.”

“I want you to meet Audrey at 9:00, in front of
The Abbey, but don’t take any unnecessary risks. I don’t need either of you
ending up like Ron Cera.”

“Shit. Maybe I should be armed.”

“Too risky. You guys might get patted down at some
of those clubs.”

“I could leave it in the car.”

“And if you get pulled over, that’s jail time for
both of us.”

“How?”

“Because all of my guns are registered and unless
you’re gonna say you stole it, which the cops most likely wouldn’t believe
anyway, it adds more fuel to the fire, which I don’t need.”

“At least there’s Audrey’s gun.”

“She doesn’t carry.”

“Jesus, Nick, this isn’t good.”

“If you see Arnold, or get wind that something’s
not kosher, get outta there and call me.”

He nodded and looked down at his feet. I felt as
apprehensive as he did, but had no choice other than to trust that he wouldn’t
take any unnecessary chances. Audrey was a very experienced investigator, and I
drew comfort from that. I hoped he did too.

Jade and Bobby were back by 6:45. As soon as they
walked in, I breathed a sigh of relief.
 
Bobby has two habitual expressions: a tight-lipped quasi-sneer in which
the corners of his mouth point toward four and eight o’clock, and a lopsided
grin which reveals his nicotine-stained teeth. He was wearing the latter. Jade
looked relieved. It was obvious from the streaks in her make-up that she’d been
crying again. She pulled off her wig and smoothed her hair.

“Beauty deserves an Oscar,” said Bobby. “She had
them eating out of her hand. Me too but that’s a different story.”

“I made them uncomfortable. They were embarrassed
when they realized that the daughter of the notorious Cicero Lamont was a
pathetic, teary bag lady. They did take my cell phone though.”

“So they bought it?”

She nodded.

Bobby said, “You know how the cops are, though.
They don’t like to give anything up.”

“Mostly they just kept going over two things. One,
the time and place for my meetings and phone calls with Fishburne and Koncak
and, two, my relationship with Ron. Since I hadn’t seen him for some time and
never met Arnold, I couldn’t give them much. They didn’t actually ask me much
about Cicero. I tried to bring the conversation around to Richard, but they
weren’t interested.”

“Soon as they mentioned Ron,” said Bobby, “tears
started bubbling and pretty soon she couldn’t turn them off.”

“They were shocked at how bad I looked. I told
them I broke up with Ron because I didn’t really love him. I know that they
were thinking Ron must have been out of his mind to ever have anything to do
with me.”

Jade looked like she was going to cry again but
controlled herself.

“Halladay was right,” I said. “They don’t give a
damn about solving Cicero’s murder or finding your brother.”

“Cold hearted motherfuckers,” snapped Bobby.

I nodded. “Yeah, they’re only concerned with the
fake cops and Ron’s murder.”

“They told me to be careful,” said Jade.

“Big of ‘em,” said Bobby. “So, what’s next?”

“Let’s eat while I mull that over.”

“Nothing in the house,” said Bobby. “Let’s go down
to Rosario’s on Cesar Chavez.”

“We can’t. At least Jade can’t.”

“Okay. I’ll go get us some take-out. You guys wait
here.”

Bobby was back by 7:30 with a couple of roast
chickens, coleslaw, potato salad and a half-gallon of milk. As we ate and
drank, I envisioned my wife and daughter on the plane to Salt Lake. Maleah
loves to fly and would be excited, wanting to walk up and down the aisle as
soon as the seatbelt light went off.
 
Cassady would watch her but at the same time would let her spread her
wings.

I know I’m hardly the best father, and having been
brought up cockeyed with a psychotic old man, know next to nothing about
raising kids, but Cassady has the touch. From the day she was handed Maleah by
a weeping nurse in a lead-infested South China orphanage, she has dedicated her
existence to making that little girl’s life a thing of joy.

I walked out to the back porch. The air was still
smoky, there were no stars, and a faint smell of gas seemed to emanate from the
hillside. I could hear the freeway traffic off in the distance. My mind kept
coming back to Ron. I could still see his head lying on the sidewalk, staring
blindly at nothing. His life finished before it had even really begun, and now
he would never get that good role he yearned for. I wondered who his mother was
and what she must be feeling. I felt I ought to contact her, tell her I knew
her son and that he was a good guy, somebody people liked and enjoyed being
around. I thought maybe I would if I had the chance.

My thoughts turned to the people inside. Bobby,
whom I loved in the casual way of brothers before the sword, and Brad, my good
friend whose eyes lit up when he got excited and who never failed to make me
laugh. Then there was Jade. Everyone liked being around her, but it was the
comfort of moths drawn to flame. She burned with pure female heat and everyone,
whether they knew it or not, could smell her scent.

I went back inside and their small talk drifted
away. I guess it was my expression, but suddenly the air became charged.

“Bobby, tomorrow I need you to shadow Koncak or
Fishburne, or whoever shows up to pay off Tarkanian at the McDonald’s in
Koreatown.”

Bobby’s eyes lit up. I could tell he’d had enough
of West Hollywood for a while and that he liked the idea of tailing real people
rather than phantoms.

“Consider it done. What are you gonna do?”

“Jade and I are flying to Frisco.”

“We are?”

“I want to get you out of town for a day or two,
and we’ve got to try and find out what really happened to your mom.”

She tried to look composed, but it was obvious to
all of us that she was only moments away from leaking tears. “Then you don’t
believe it was suicide.”

“Normally, I wouldn’t have an opinion either way,
but under the circumstance, we need to be sure.”

She nodded, tried to smile and went into the
bathroom. We all knew why.

Bobby turned to me. “You better be careful. No one
knows you up there.”

“I’ll be armed.”

“Wish I was going with you.”

“You’re more valuable here. Koncak saw me at the
library. He won’t recognize you.”

“Unless he’s seen me in West Hollywood.”

“Even if he has, he won’t necessarily put the
pieces together.”

He grinned. “I do look like a guy who spends my
afternoons in McDonald’s, eating French fries, and staring at married women.”

We all laughed.

Bobby clapped his hand on my shoulder. “Let’s
roll.”

Chapter II – San Francisco

Jade and I decided to catch a San Francisco late night
flight out of LAX. First I doubled back
to my house to pick-up my
luggage and the hard case for my Colt 45, while Bobby swung out to Jade’s condo
on Wilshire to pack for her. I left the Yukon in long-term parking at LAX and
we took the shuttle bus to the Southwest terminal. Nothing seemed out of the
ordinary, other than flights were delayed because of the fires. Bleary-eyed
passengers milled around. I checked my gun and luggage and called Bobby on his
cell. Thirty minutes later we met him at the curb.

He was grinning. “That’s a nice place you have
there, Beauty. I think I’m moving in. My goats will make short work of your carpet.”

“Did they give you any trouble at the desk?” Jade
was curious.

“Just the usual. Terror. Astonishment. I gave them
the 1000 yard stare. It’s a good thing
 
you phoned in advance. Otherwise, they would never have let me in. As it
was, I had to show them my I.D. and give them my phone number.”

Jade thanked him. We all shook hands and watched
him nose back into traffic.

I was painfully aware of Jade’s presence as we
worked our way through security, and finally took our seats. Once we were on
the plane, I closed my eyes and tilted back my seat, feigning drowsiness in
order to collect my thoughts. Jade thumbed through the flight magazines. She
had that old lady’s habit of dampening her index finger before turning the
pages. I actually did doze for a few moments as the flight attendant gave
pre-flight instructions, and then we accelerated up the runway.

It was even worse once we were in the air. The
cabin was dim, most of the passengers were either asleep or reading, and Jade
and I had an empty seat to our left. She had freshened up while we were waiting
to board, and wore a light perfume that reminded me, for all the world, of the
pink and yellow roses in my backyard that bloom every November. Once we’d
reached 30,000 feet and the seatbelt light went off, Jade placed her magazine
back in the rack and turned to me.

“What a day. I guess I lost it there for a while.”

“You did good. Nobody said this was gonna be
easy.”

“Detective Karsagian and his chunky buddy, the
Sergeant, had I looked like this instead of an insane bag lady, would’ve kept
questioning me. As it was, they couldn’t wait to get it over with.” She
shrugged, her disappointment in the male gender, obvious. “For once I’d like to
be surprised.”

“We’re not all stereotypes.”

“There are exceptions -- you, Ron. But you’re few
and far between. He didn’t take himself too seriously, except for his acting,
of course. He was a funny, gentle guy. Made me laugh a lot.”

She choked on her emotion and fell silent, looking
out of the window at the moonlit sky. I gently patted her left hand. She looked
at me, her green eyes liquid in the dim light. As a single tear trickled down
her left cheek, she wiped at it impatiently, placed her head on my chest and
began to sob quietly. I put my arms around her. Anyone would have done the
same. The world seemed to compress until all that was left was her fragrant
hair, her quiet tears, and a pounding in my heart that rose and fell to the
rhythm of her pain.

After what seemed an eternity, she disentangled
herself and sat up straight, taking a Kleenex out of her purse, wiping her
eyes.

“I’m a wreck.” She balled up the damp tissue and
looked at me curiously. “How come your heart was pounding so hard?”

“It was?”

She smiled at me knowingly, and ran her pink
tongue across her bottom lip. I was already horny, and this turned the spark of
desire into a flame. She leaned in, her mouth almost caressing mine. I started
to sweat as my heart pounded on the inside of my rib cage, begging for release.
Her eyes closed, her mouth opened and our lips touched. Soft, warm and wet. Her
tongue slid into my mouth and suddenly I realized what I was doing and quickly
pulled back. She opened her eyes, more bemused than angry and frowned her
question.

“I’ve a family.”

“I wanna fuck you, not marry you.”

I wiped a shaking hand across my mouth and leaned
back out of harm’s way. “Oh, you don’t make this easy.”

“I couldn’t make it any easier.”

“I appreciate it, I really do, I mean, jeez, but I
love my wife.”

“That’s very gallant, Nick. Actually, it’s
refreshing.”

Regret was gnawing the inside of my thigh, and
gallantry started to feel like a fool’s errand. The flight attendant wheeled
her trolley next to us.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“I’ll have a double bourbon, up, and Jade?”

“Same, please. Water back.”

“Sure.”

She handed each of us 2 miniatures of Woodford
Reserve with plastic cups, and another for Jade’s water.

“Thanks. How much?”

“$32 even, please.”

I handed her $40. “Keep the change.”

“Wow, thanks. Here,” she smiled and handed me
another small bottle of water.

“Appreciate it.”

She moved off and we poured our bourbon into the
plastic cups. I slugged half of it, and was grateful for the instant warmth as
it spread through me, calming me down.

Jade sipped hers and asked, “Feeling better?”

“Yeah.”

“Is she pretty?”

“Who?”

“Your wife.”

“Very, and she’s got personality. Lots of it.”

“Show me a picture.
 
I want to see her.”

“Don’t have one with me.” I lied. It would have
felt like an act of betrayal.

“No picture? For shame.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

We arrived at SFO shortly after 2:00 a.m. I had to
go through extra screening to retrieve my gun, and it was 3:00 by the time we
pulled out of the Avis parking lot, in a rented Chevy Impala. We were both
exhausted and as soon as we hit the freeway, Jade slumped over against the passenger
door and slept.

40 minutes later, I checked us into a two-story
Best Western on Van Ness. I half-carried her up the stairs to her second floor
room, steered her toward the bed, and went back down for our luggage. When I
came back up, she was asleep on top of the covers, her skirt hiked part way up
her thighs. I forced myself to look away, loaded and holstered my gun, and went
down to the lobby. It was empty except for the deskman; in another hour they
would be bringing out the coffee. I found a chair near the fireplace, leaned
back and closed my eyes.

One by one, the players from the past few days
appeared. Reggie Mount constructed a corral out of the bleached white bones of
small animals, and Arnold looked at me with smug complacency. Ron’s head lay on
Towne Street, his eyes staring mute reproach, and Richie, his eyes big from
chemicals, mumbled something. Finally, I drifted into oblivion. I was roused a
few hours later by the voices of guests pouring their complimentary coffee, and
making their selections from the tired array of English muffins,
plastic-wrapped Danishes and bright-hued herbal teas. I looked at my phone,
7:00 a.m.

P
ulling myself to my feet, I staggered
outside. The Van Ness traffic was in full force, three lanes churning in both
directions. I smiled. It was good to be back in the City. This was where I had
seduced Cassady, in her Noe Valley Victorian flat, the day my life changed
forever. This was also where Brad and I had a thousand conversations over beer,
at his apartment and mine, talking about crime, women, guns, books and our
aspirations. Where he had met Keri, and where I had first met Bobby in
sociology class.

Like any city, for all its beauty and warm, fuzzy
memories, it also has its cold, dark side. Dominique Dominguez Lamont had
either sucked the end of the gun barrel, or someone had shoved it in her mouth
for her. This could be a rough day for Jade, but every day had been that way
lately. I glanced at the Chronicle headlines: WILDFIRES RAVAGE SOCAL. It made
me feel right at home. I went back inside, grabbed two coffees, two Danishes
and went upstairs. I knocked and announced myself. Jade didn’t answer, so I let
myself in. She was in the shower, the door ajar.

“I’m back.”

“Thank God.” She turned off the spray. “Could you
hand me my bathrobe? It’s right on top of my suitcase.”

It was white pique with blue piping and felt
expensive; I hung it on the inside of the bathroom door.

“Thanks.”

I turned on the news and drank my coffee. Ten
minutes later, she came out, her robe belted loosely around her waist, exposing
the top of her café con leche breasts. I imagined that her nipples were
more brown than pink, swallowed hard and pointed to her coffee on the table.

“That’s yours.”

“I need it.”

She sipped and paced, stopped and stared at me.
“Nice of you to tell me you were going out. I was scared, you know.”

“Sorry. I needed to think and fell asleep in the
lobby.”

Jade nodded and frowned, deep in thought. She
crossed to the door and retraced her steps.
 
“Halladay knows I depend on him. I can’t
believe he’s so involved in this mess.”

“How well do you know him?”

“I was there in the office with him and Daddy when
they set up the trust. He told me that Halladay was like my honorary uncle, and
that I could always count on him.”

“What did Halladay say?”

“He was flattered.”

“But--”

“--But it didn’t stop him from devouring me with
his eyes. It was creepy.”

“But ‘til now, he’s done right by you. Yeah?”

She nodded. “He thanked Cicero for placing so much
faith in him, and told me he would always do his best for me.”

“Money’s killed a lotta friendships.”

“What about loyalty? Cicero made him a very rich
man.”

‘
Cold
world,’ I thought, but said nothing.

“Or maybe he has ulterior motives. After all, he’s
the one who phoned me in Austria.”

“That’d be my guess.”

“And the money’s his motive.”

“How much control over the trust does he have?”

“Power of attorney, but only if both of us are
deceased or incapable of managing our own estates.”

I locked eyes with her and she nodded her
understanding.

“Jesus.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, breathed out through
my nose and replied, “Doesn’t mean he killed him.”

“No, but one day Daddy told me that Halladay was
jealous of him, because he was richer than he was. That’s the only time he ever
said anything negative about him.”

“It provides motive, but that’s all.”

“A few years ago, Cicero started talking to me
about money, and how to manage it. He had tried to teach Richard, but he showed
no interest and, I guess out of frustration, he turned to me.”

“Was Halladay privy to this?”

“Yes.”

“Did Cicero tell you how he made all his money?”

“He was very proud that he’d made millions in the
refrigeration business. Proved he was a sharp guy, and not just another drug
dealer.”

I finished my coffee.

Her eyes flashed hard. “How much is he paying
you?”

“Six figures. On the nose.”

“What?”

I shrugged. “Like I said, he made it very clear
that I was to keep him out of this.”

Jade collapsed on the edge of the bed. She leaned
forward, placed her elbows on her knees and her palms to her temples, and
rocked back and forth. Then she sat up straight.

“Would we be better off if the police were more
involved?”

“Ordinarily, I’d say yes. The problem is your
brother, and Arnold strikes me as one of those controlling psychotics who likes
to interact, but only on his terms. If he finds out the cops are involved,
he’ll get skittish and who knows what he could do to Richard. No, we’re better
off without them.”

“You’re right. I don’t want to do anything that
puts Richard in more danger.”

“If Halladay is involved, that makes it all the
tougher.” I spoke softly but my words were still audible. “When I met him, he
struck me as a callous bastard, and what I’ve heard about Arnold is that he
marches to a particularly cruel drummer.”

Thinking out loud can get you in trouble. I
immediately regretted my last statement, but it was too late. Her shoulders
slumped forward and emotion closed her throat.

“I just don’t understand what Richard sees in
him.”

“Jade, without him, Arnold has no game. He’s not
gonna hurt him.”

“If he does, I’ll give you a million dollars to
kill him.”

I sighed and looked at her steadily. “You say that
to the wrong person, and you’re gonna be doing a 20 year bid for conspiracy.”

“Then lucky I said it to the right one.”

“No you didn’t and please, I don’t wanna hear it
again.”

It was a crisp, Indian summer morning. We headed
south on Van Ness through the Tenderloin. A short while later, we crossed
Market and headed into SOMA, where signs of gentrification were everywhere, not
unlike the L.A. warehouse district, east of Alameda. But there were still
plenty of pockets of decay. Every big city seems broken if you look in the
wrong places.

Brad called. “Hey, Boss. How’s San Fran?”

“Still here.”

“No news, I’m afraid. We closed the bars, but they
never showed.”

“Where are you now?”

“At your house. You want us back in the clubs
tonight?”

“Let’s wait and see what happens with Bobby.”

“Okay,” said Brad and hung up.

Our first stop was the Hall of Justice on Bryant
Street. This is the new cop shop; the striking old Hall of Justice on Kearny
Street, near Chinatown, was torn down in 1968. The new building is boxy, made
of glass and steel, a soulless edifice promising little other than efficiency.
We parked and headed for the Office of the Medical Examiner.

The dignitary behind the counter was a
plain-looking woman with wide hips, tight red curls and a mouth that looked
like she’d sucked a lot of lemons. She gave us the once over, barely able to
hide her disapproval.