Parker 05 - The Darkness (5 page)

they'd even knocked. The three of them walked down the

hallway, the floor covered in cigarette butts and crack vials.

The two men walked in front, the woman trailing them

behind. She wore a jacket over a tank top, her arms loose

by her side. The man on the left was blond, trim, and

grinned like he'd been looking forward to this. The other

wore a long coat and a scowl, and was in no mood to smile.

The men behind the door had been waiting for their

arrival. The whispering was excited, impatient. So when

the two lead men finally did knock on the door, it opened

barely a moment later.

The bodyguard who opened it was massive. Six foot

six at least, and well over three hundred pounds. There

was perhaps muscle under the flab, but he was no doubt

employed as much for his ability to absorb bullets as for

his ability to fight. The man looked like he could stop a

tank shell in that gut.

"You Mr. Malloy?" the behemoth asked. The woman

looked at the younger of her two accomplices, the blond

man in his early forties. The blond man nodded.

"At your service."

36

Jason Pinter

The bodyguard stared at his sunglasses. Or more

specifically, what held them up. "Man, what happened

to your ear?"

The blond man ignored the question. "We're here to

see Mr. Culvert."

The bodyguard looked at the woman standing behind

Malloy. She had dark skin and luminous green eyes. Her

skin was the color of cinnamon, and she looked a few

years older than the blond man. Her body was toned,

sinewy, her breastbone visible above the curve of her

tank top. The bodyguard let his gaze hover over her an

extra moment, then ushered the three people inside.

The apartment was located inside a largely unoccupied

building in Harlem. The man they were going to see

owned the premises, and other than letting family members stay from time to time, he kept it mainly for business

dealings. And that's what this meeting was about. Business.

The bodyguard ushered them down a hallway into a

room that was lit only by two weak floor lamps. The

windows were blacked out, and there were no phones or

other electronic devices present. Three couches were

arranged in a semicircle, and sitting on these couches

were four men. Three of them were dressed all in black

trench coats, and were just as big as the guy who opened

the door. Machine guns were strapped to each of their

chests. They made no efforts to hide them.

The one man who was unarmed was dressed in a

simple track suit, and wore enough gold chains to bring

down a hot air balloon. He was thirty-two years old, and

worth nearly twenty million dollars. The woman looked

around the place, slightly disappointed that there was no

evidence of his successful rap career in the building. No

The Darkness

37

platinum albums, no framed magazine covers. For what

she had in mind, those trinkets would have made the

ensuing story that much more vivid.

The chains clinked together as the man twitched involuntarily. He constantly licked at his lips and rubbed

his hands together. His eyes were wide, the whites almost

eerie in the gloom. He smiled broadly when they entered.

"Mr. Culvert," Malloy said. "Good to see you again."

LeRoy Culvert stood up. He gripped Malloy's hand

with both of his and shook them energetically. He looked

warily at the two people Malloy was with. The other man

he viewed with skepticism. The woman he eyed with fear.

"Mr. Culvert," the woman said. "Let's talk about

the future."

"Absolutely," LeRoy Culvert said, sitting back down.

The four bodyguards watched, guns at the ready. "Here,

take a seat."

"That's all right," she said. "We'd prefer to keep this

short."

"Whatever you say, ma'am," Culvert said with a laugh.

The man was stoned out of his mind. That was clear. And

the woman knew exactly what drugs he had taken.

"So?" she said. "You've clearly sampled our product.

What do you think?"

LeRoy Culvert leaned back, his head tilted toward the

ceiling. Then he whipped it forward.

"See, normally I'd lie to y'all. I'd tell you your

'product' is shit, and that you should feel lucky if I'd sell

it to the poorest crackheads who live in the subway. See,

that way I'd bargain you down, get you to sell it to me at

a discount, and I'd keep the profits for my own."

"Smart business strategy," the woman said.

"But I ain't gonna do that to you. You're good peo-38

Jason Pinter

ple. Listen, this be the finest product I have ever tried

in my
whole life.
Fact is, if you hadn't come on time

today I'd have to get my man Buttercup to track you

down and get some more down here because my stash

is
out.
"

"Buttercup?" Malloy said.

The massive, milky-white bodyguard nodded. "That's

what people call me."

"Intimidating," the woman said.

"Listen, lady," Buttercup said, "I will break your bony

ass over my knee."

"Hey, my man Cup, there's no need for that," Culvert

said. "These people are our
friends.
They're going to double

your salary, because I'm gonna be worth twice as much."

"At least," the woman said.

"So look, I want in. I'll start with a million worth of

the rock. I have enough dealers on the streets that we'll

probably be sold out in a month. Then we'll re-up, and

go from there. Everybody makes money. You have the

product, I have the distribution. Together, we'll blanket

the city. Every two-bit street demon with a habit and a

ten-dollar bill will be aching for a taste of this."

"You do have the streets," the woman said. "And that

is commendable. Very nineteen eighties. But to be honest,

I'm thinking a little higher than street level."

"What you mean?" Culvert said. "Higher, where?"

"That's not important. I'm just glad you enjoyed the

product."

"Enjoyed?" Culvert said. "Man, I'm gonna buy ten

grand worth just for my own personal enjoyment. What

do you say to that?"

Malloy shrugged. The woman did not move. The other

man stayed quiet. He looked uncomfortable.

The Darkness

39

"Who is this dude?" Culvert said, nodding to the

quiet man.

"This," the woman replied, "is Detective Sevag Makhoulian of the NYPD. He's our liaison inside the department. He will keep us apprised of any police awareness

of our operation."

"Smart bitch, you is," Culvert said. "So, let's make a

deal."

"Sorry," the woman said. "No deal."

Culvert looked like he'd been punched in the stomach.

"What do you mean, no deal? You gave me the product

to test, I tested it, and now I want to take it to the streets.

We all make money."

"
We
make money," she said. "You don't."

LeRoy Culvert jumped from the couch, his chains

clinking, baggy pants fluttering. "Listen, bitch, I want my

stash. Business or not, I got to have more of that stuff.

Those rocks are
life,
man."

"I'm glad you're satisfied with our product," she

said, "but that does not change the fact that this transaction is done."

"Man, fuck y'all," Culvert said. "You gonna be like

this, I'm gonna have to take over
your
operation. Buttercup, gut this bitch."

Buttercup went for the gun in his waistband, but before

his hand ever got there the woman ripped a blade from

inside her coat and ripped it through the soft meat of Buttercup's throat. The wound yawned open a ghastly red,

and Buttercup made a choking sound as he dropped to the

ground, flailing. Blood poured from the severed veins.

The woman wiped her hand on the couch.

LeRoy Culvert stared at the bloody mess. "What the

hell are you doing?" he said. "We're partners!"

40

Jason Pinter

"Yes, we are," the woman said. "You're going to help us

get the word out about our product. I'm just sorry that your

corpse is going to be the vehicle for delivering the message."

Suddenly Malloy pulled two machine pistols from his

coat, and in less than two seconds shredded Culvert's bodyguards in a hail of bullets. Blood and pillow feathers spattered the apartment, which was lit brightly by the gunfire.

When Malloy had stopped firing, he paused and saw

LeRoy Culvert cowering behind one of the couches. He

was muttering
sweet Jesus, sweet Jesus
over and over

again as he rubbed a gold cross hanging around his neck.

"Jesus won't save you," the woman said, walking over

to the cowering man. "But give him my best."

With one thrust, she buried her knife up to the hilt just

under LeRoy Culvert's jaw. He tried to open it, instead

aspirating a cloud of blood. When Culvert's eyes rolled

back in his head, the woman pulled the knife free.

Culvert's body toppled to the ground.

The woman looked at the bloody knife in her hand.

"Three days," the woman said to her associates. "Once

Paulina Cole does her job, and the police tie this into it,

we'll have enough product on the street to saturate the

entire city in less than a week."

Malloy stood there, staring at the bodies. He made the

sign of the cross. The woman turned to Malloy and put

her arm across his shoulder.

"I know you're thinking about him," she said. "But I

promise you, he won't have died in vain."

"Thursday," Malloy said. "I've been waiting for this

day for twenty years."

"Me, too," she said. "Now come on, we have some new

recruits coming in. I want this room to look like something

out of Stephen King's nightmares."

The Darkness

41

The woman took the knife and drew it across the wall,

leaving a bloody smear. Just a few strokes later, the
F
was

visible. When she completed the rest of the word, and the

apartment was sufficiently coated, they left the building and

waited for Detective Sevag Makhoulian to report the crime.

5

Amanda Davies arrived home at eight o'clock. She

called it home even though it was anything but. The

reality was it was the home of her friend and coworker

Darcy Lapore, and Darcy was campaigning for most altruistic human being on the planet by allowing Amanda

to stay there.

Living here wasn't what she'd expected after coming

to New York for law school. She figured she'd graduate

from NYU near the top of her class, which she did, then

find a cushy job in some high-profile firm and become

one of those high-powered career women who had brassy

blond hair (hers was auburn, so this would be tricky),

wear smart Hillary Clinton pantsuits, get married at

thirty-six, kids at thirty-nine, realize by fifty that you

never really spent much time with your family, sixty

before you realized you were never really happy in your

marriage and my, didn't life go by fast?

Instead, she met a guy named Henry Parker who changed

her world. Well, part of it was her own doing, choosing the

not-for-profit sector of legal aid rather than one of those

cushy jobs. She didn't make the money most New York

lawyers did, but she was pretty sure she slept better at night.

The Darkness

43

It took a few years, but looking back Amanda realized

how much of her life she'd missed. It was as if she'd taken

her expected life and turned it around. Her parents had

died when she was young, and after being shuttled back

and forth for years, she was adopted by a kind couple

named Lawrence and Harriet Stein. The Steins were everything foster parents could be. Except for real parents.

Amanda went through the first twenty years of her life

without knowing a real relationship of any kind, and she

didn't figure that would get any better.

Then she met Henry in extraordinary circumstances,

literally picking him up on the side of the road, later to

find out he was wanted for murder. Thankfully he was

innocent. That would have been a deal breaker.

They'd leaped into a relationship faster than either of

them knew what they were doing, and for a while it was

good. Really good. Then just as they met under extraordinary circumstances, so were they torn apart. Henry

broke up with her for reasons that he believed were noble,

but devastated them both. And after some tentative patchwork, they'd decided to give it another go. Slowly this

time. They were starting like they should have from the

beginning. Movies. Dinner. Holding hands while walking

through Central Park, picnic lunches on the Great Lawn.

She'd moved in with Henry too quickly last time. For

now, Darcy would do, but every night spent in that cold

guest room, with the hard mattress that was meant more

for show than for use, with the artificial orchids everywhere and paint so white that it seemed to have been