No More Tears in the End (27 page)

I looked at my watch. It was ten-thirty. If FedEx was as good as their word, Mrs. Vinnelli should have pictures of her husband with Eileen McManus, and details of their affair. Eileen McManus, on the other hand, should have pictures of Vinnelli with Pamela Connote. That by itself was enough to wreck his world, but it would be just the beginning.

 
Kevon came to the table with the phone in his hand. “It’s Travis.”

“Good morning, Travis. Tell me something positive.”

 
“I just left the bank with a check made out the way you asked, for three million, eight hundred thousand dollars.”

“Now that’s positive. Any problems?”

“None.”

“You take care of your people?”

“Yes, sir,” Travis said. I gave him a quarter of a million dollars to give his contact for her part in the plan. “I’m on my way to the airport now, so I’ll so you this afternoon.”

“Good man. I’ll have your money waiting for you when you get here.”

When Travis got back, I would have a million dollars in cash ready for him. I told Nick to find somebody else to baby-sit Jackie at the game. I could use Travis for other things on both sides of the house. Him and Monika were going to be very valuable people to have around.

When I hung up the phone Kevon came back in the office. “You never guess who is here to see you, boss.”

“Martin Marshall.”

Kevon looked at his watch. “More than an hour before you say he be here.”

“Show him in.”

A few minutes later Martin was shutting the door to my office. You know, for some reason, he didn’t look happy. He walked up to the desk and saw the paper.

“That your doing?”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Martin. Have a seat. Can I get you a drink?”

“Whiskey.”

“How do you take it?” I asked and got up to fix us both a drink.

“In a glass.” Martin picked up the paper from my desk and started mumbling as he looked at it.

“Here you go, Martin.” I handed him his glass and sat down.

Martin dropped the paper on the desk and leaned forward. “Fremeno could have only gotten this stuff from you,” he said and pointed to the article. “When I gave you that name I thought you would just take his money and kill him, not go running to the press with it.” Martin sat back in his chair. “When they start digging into this, Vinnelli will flip on me if it comes down to it.”

“You’ll be all right, Martin. I hear you’re Teflon. Nothing sticks to you. And besides, Vinnelli is gonna be too busy with his own issues to even remember your name.”

“I’m running for congress, Black. He’s gonna remember my name.”

“Don’t comment on it, or make some bullshit statement supporting the integrity of the DEA. Ain’t that what you politicians do?”

“I don’t need you to tell me how to handle the press. The fact is that I trusted you, and you fucked me.”

“I didn’t fuck you Martin. If I wanted to fuck you, Martin, I would have given them this.” I picked up the remote and turned on the recording of Martin’s conversation with Diego Estaban.

When it was over, I handed him the Justice Department memo that Monika uncovered. “And I would have given them that.”

“Where did you get this?” Martin asked as he continued looking at the memo.

“Like you said, Martin, my people are very talented.” When Martin looked up, I had my gun pointed at him. “I should kill you right now, Martin. If for nothing else, for your part in Diego’s plan.”

“That was just business,” Martin said putting his hands up.

“That’s the only reason you’re still alive. I understand that it was just business. That
—
and the fact that we can do things for each other in the future. And put your hands down.” Martin put his hands down slowly. “I just needed for us to have an understanding.”

“What understanding is that?”

“That you don’t fuck with me.”

There was a knock at the door and Kevon stuck his head in. “Nick is here, boss.”

“I have meeting to go to, Martin,” I said and stood up. “So, if we’re done here . . .”

Martin stood up and I extended my hand. “Don’t worry, I’m not done with Vinnelli,” I said quietly and shook his hand.

After Martin left, Kevon drove me and Nick out to Yonkers to see Angelo. I had been putting him off for weeks. Now that this Vinnelli business was over, it was time to move forward.

When we got to the social club, I was surprised that Fat Jimmy didn’t meet us at the car, so I asked Angee when we got inside, “Where’s fat Jimmy? He sick or something?”

“Jimmy’s dead, Mikey. His wife caught him with another broad and shot them both.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“It is that. So, Mikey, you been thinkin’ about what I asked you?”

“I have. I thought a lot about it, but for personal reasons that I know you understand, I’m gonna have to say no.”

“That’s unfortunate, but not unexpected.”

“Before you decide to whack me hear me out, Angee.”

“I’m not gonna have you whacked, Mikey.”

“That’s good to know. Like I said, Angee, I can’t get involved for my own reasons, but what I will do as a personal favor to you, is I will offer advice and counsel to Stark, and should the need ever arise, I’ll act as an intermediary to resolve any disputes. You got a problem with him, you come to me. But understand, this is not a service. This I do for you out of friendship. I will not accept a fee. But for reasons that I know you understand, I can’t go any further than that.”

“You know what? That means a lot to me. It does, Mikey. I expected you to say no just like you did. I knew I was askin’ a lot of you, and if you had said yes, I knew it wouldn’t be because you wanted to or because of the money or ’cause it was good business. None of that. If you had said yes to this it would be out of loyalty to our friendship. But this—” Angee stood up with his arms out.

I stood up. “I hope that’s acceptable.” Angee came around table and hugged me. Then he kissed me on both cheeks and held my face in both hands. I thought the kiss of death was coming next.

“This means a lot to me, Mikey,” he said and we left his office. When we came out, Nick and Kevon stood up. Angee walked over and shook Nick’s hand. “Congratulations, Nick, you deserve it.”

“Thank you,” Nick said.

I had Kevon drop Nick back at the club. When he left I had one more stop to make. After Kevon parked the car, I got a briefcase out of the trunk and we went in the building. We took the elevator up and Kevon knocked on the door.

“Who is it?”

I leaned in front of the peephole. “Mike Black.”

“Don’t go nowhere. I gotta put something on.”

“Don’t go to any trouble.”

“I tell you again, maybe you should call first, boss,” Kevon said and leaned against the wall. I took the other wall and once again, we waited. Five minutes later CeCe opened the door.

“Hello Mr. Black.”

“Hello, CeCe. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“Not at all. Please come in. But you could think about calling first.”

“Kevon said the same thing,” I said and sat down.

“So, I read the paper this morning. I hope you’re pleased?” CeCe sat down next to me.

“I am.” I put the briefcase on the coffee table in front of her.

“Is that for me?”

I nodded my head.

CeCe opened the case, looked at the money, and closed the case.

“I hope you’re pleased?”

“I am.” CeCe put the briefcase on the floor next to her. “This must mean that everything went all right in the Caymans, and that I satisfied my end of the deal?”

“It does.”

“So are you ready to live up to your end of the deal?”

“As soon as you tell me what it is.”

“I want you to take me to dinner and then I want you to take me dancing,” CeCe said.

“That’s it? Dinner and dancing?”

“That’s it, Mr. Black, dinner and dancing.”

“Let’s go.”

“No, not tonight. I want you to make reservations at some place nice. It can be vegetarian, I don’t mind that.”

“You have been talkin’ to Bobby.”

“Bobby likes to talk to me,” CeCe said and smiled. “After you make reservations, I want you to call me and let me know what time to be ready.”

“That’s it? Dinner and dancing?”

“That’s all I want,” CeCe said and showed me to the door.

I called her the next day and told her that we had dinner reservations for six that evening and that I would pick her up at five-thirty. I arrived on time and CeCe was ready as I expected by six. She looked fantastic.

We had dinner reservations at Le Bernardin on 51
^st
Street between 6
^th
and 7
^th
Avenue. CeCe had baked shrimp and striped bass and I ordered the sautéed codfish and we talked. Something she and I hadn’t done a lot of. “Because you avoid me.”

“I don’t avoid you, I’m just busy.”

“I’m busy, too, I have a lot to do to get this store opened, but I seem to find time for the things I want.”

“How’s that goin’?”

“It’s been a little rough. That briefcase you handed me will make things a lot easier. I should be able to open on time.”

“I meant to ask you when you first told me about it, but what do you know about running a store?”

“I used to be a buyer for Nostrums in Seattle.”

“Really?”

“You seem surprised. What did you think I was gonna say; that I used to be a cashier at Macys?”

I laughed, but yeah, I did.

“Well, I was a cashier at Macys, too, but I used to be a buyer.”

“I didn’t know that about you.”

CeCe looked at me like I was stupid. “There’s a lot that you don’t know about me, Mr. Black.”

“You’re right.”

“And I want you to know me. I want you to know that I’m more than just some gold-diggin’ baller’s girlfriend.”

By the time the waiter brought the check I knew that her real name was Cameisha Collins. She graduated from The University of Bridgeport with a degree in fashion merchandising. She moved to Seattle and worked for Nostrums out of their corporate office as a buyer. She came back to New York when her mother got sick. When she couldn’t find a job as a buyer, she got the job as a cashier at Macys and that’s where she met Cash Money. “You know the rest of the story.”

I had found out something else about CeCe. I found that I liked her. I’ve always enjoyed the company of women who could hold a conversation, and CeCe was definitely one of those women. She was intelligent without being snotty about it; she was playful, but not silly. CeCe was flirtatious, but not necessarily sexual.

And she was beautiful to look at.

“What now?” CeCe asked as we walked out of the restaurant arm in arm. “It’s a little early to go dancing.”

“I know it wasn’t part of our deal, but if you’d like, I got tickets for
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof:
the new production of the Tennessee Williams’ classic with an all-black cast.”

“How did you know I wanted to see that play?”

“I didn’t.”

“Well, Mr. Black, I would like that very much.”

“It’s playing at The Broadhurst Theatre on West 44th Street,” I said as Kevon arrived with the car.

After the play was over we went dancing, and I gotta say, although “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” was great, watching CeCe dance was the highlight of the evening.

It made me want her.

More than I already did.

When we got back to her apartment, I walked CeCe to the door. “I had a great time tonight, Mr. Black. The food was excellent, the play was outstanding and you, sir, are a very good dancer.”

“I just stood near you and tried not to look bad.”

“So,” CeCe said when we got to her door. “Do you know what it was that I wanted tonight?”

“Was it something other than dinner and dancing?”

“Yes.”

“What was that?”

“I wanted something most people don’t get. I wanted a second chance.”

“Second chance at what?”

“A second chance at making a first impression.” CeCe unlocked the door, but didn’t open it. “You had the wrong impression of me, Mr. Black. I had to show you that I wasn’t the woman you thought I was. I had to introduce you to the real me.”

“You didn’t have to go through all that,” I said, but I was glad that she did. I saw CeCe in a completely different light now.

“Yes, I did. If I didn’t, you would have never gotten to know me. You might have even gotten around to having sex with me. But you would’ve never invited me out for an evening like the one we just had.”

“I might have.”

“No you wouldn’t, because you didn’t see me that way. You saw me as a soldier, a pawn on your chessboard. A knight at best, ’cause I get things done for you.”