Rise of the Beast (8 page)

“Did you see where and when the gang members entered?” asked the lieutenant.

“Not yet. I haven’t seen where and when these two left, either, but I’ll keep searching. Maybe someone in that apartment complex knew them, maybe the doorman. I’m going to check that out this afternoon. And here is something else, according to the mother of one of the murdered youths—there might have been a fourth gang member who accompanied the others to the park that night. Then I turned around to find that the kid in question actually came down to the precinct with his mother and filed a report yesterday after they heard what happened. He claimed that he left the group earlier in the evening and didn’t see anything. Now that may well be true, but I’m following it up nevertheless. I’m going over to see him this afternoon.”

“Good work, Bill, mighty good work,” confirmed the lieutenant. “Maybe we’ll get a break in this case yet.”

“My son has been very upset by the death of his three friends,” confirmed Consuela, looking over at Detective Bill Strom, who was setting in the comfy chair in their living room with a notepad in his hand. “It frightens me to think that he was with them earlier that night, that I could have lost him.”

“I was with them earlier that evening,” confirmed Julio, sitting on the love seat by his mother’s side. “They were going to hang out in the park. We did that sometimes.”

“We went over to the precinct and filed a report on Wednesday,” said Consuela.

“Yes, I noticed that here,” noted the detective. “Thank you for coming forth, Julio. What time did you leave your friends?”

“About 9:30,” was the answer.

“About an hour and a half before they were killed,” noted Bill. “What were they planning on doing in the park?”

“They’d planned on playing toll taker in the park that night.” “Toll taker?” asked Bill.

“Yeah, we’d hang around until someone came along. Then we’d tell them that this was our territory and that they would have to pay a toll to get by. Some people would just run; others would fork out some cash. Not too many would think about fighting us. I mean, there’d be four of us, you know? I mean, we’d never hurt anyone, it was just a game.”

“Sounds like a game that could get you in trouble,” noted Bill. “It might have been what got them killed.”

Julio seemed to tremble for a moment, as though there were strong emotions just beneath his cool exterior. “I’d played the game a few times; I admit it. But I didn’t that night. I’ve been in trouble. I guess you know that. I’m on probation now, will be for another month. I don’t want to end up in juvenile hall. I’ve been clean for nearly six months now, no drugs, no felonies. I wasn’t going to play. I left them at the edge of the park, across from that new Brookmoore Hotel. I walked around for a while, thinking it out, and then went home. You see, I had a bad feeling that night, I don’t know why.” For a moment, he hesitated. “It was like something was telling me to get out of there. Maybe it was the Spirit of God or something. I know that sounds crazy.”

The detective smiled. “No, Julio, I don’t think that sounds crazy at all. I think it sounds sensible.”

“Julio is going to be starting GED classes here in another week,” said Consuela. “He is really trying to turn his life around. I’m proud of him for that. It’s not easy to walk away from the gang.”

“No, it’s not,” said the detective, turning to Julio. “But it’s the best decision you’ve ever made.”

“I hope so. I just couldn’t stay,” said Julio. “I’m hoping to major in criminal justice in college, after I get my GED. I’d like to be a detective someday. I’m just worried about my juvenile record getting in the way.”

“Don’t worry about that,” assured Bill. “I’ve had a look at that record. It’s just a juvenile record, and you haven’t been involved in any really serious trouble. Down the road, if you want to join the NYPD, give me a call. I’ll help you.”

The detective rose to his feet and handed Julio his card. “If anything else
comes to your mind that you think might be important, would you give me a call?”

Julio stood up and smiled, though slightly. “I sure will, and thank you Detective Strom.”

The detective shook Julio’s hand. “Thanks for coming to us, Julio; I know that took some courage.”

“I just wish I could have been more help, detective,” said Julio. “I want you to get whoever did this to Miguel and the others.”

Bill smiled. “We’ll get them Julio. You just keep looking up. And keep up the good work. One of these days I hope to see you in our department. We need good men on the force, ones who really appreciate what we’re dealing with. Stay in touch, Julio, even if you just need someone to talk to, OK?”

“I will,” confirmed Julio.

“That was a little help,” muttered Bill, as he walked down the hallway. At least he knew now what the youths had been doing in the park and why they might have gotten into trouble. Meeting Julio was a pleasant experience, too. That in itself had been worth the trip. To see the lights go on in a young person’s head, to see kids change course before it was too late, always gave Bill a good feeling. It didn’t happen often enough. He’d try to keep an eye on Julio, help him if he could.

It had been the better part of a week since Leland had encountered the angels in the park. Since that time, his life had become more hectic than ever. He had 16 girls in his employment. They were flabbergasted when Krissie gave them the news that Leland was going out of the love business. They were even more surprised when they were each presented with a check for $5,000 out of Leland’s private account.

“This is just the first of it,” explained Krissie. “Leland has promised to provide you additional money for schooling or refer you to someone else if you really want to continue in the business, but he is out of it for good.”

When asked why such a successful pimp was closing his doors, he answered that he had found religion. There were no specifics, just religion. Still more
astonishing was the revelation that Krissie and Leland were planning on getting married. Imagine that. It seemed that Leland was full of surprises this week.

But Leland didn’t hold the monopoly on surprises. His friend Dale, from Manhattan Gold, had some good ones, too. “Meet me in my office; the assay is in.” That was the sum total of the message on Leland’s answering machine. When he arrived at Manhattan Gold, Dale practically spirited him into his office.

“The assay is in on your gold,” he announced. “They ran it three times. The news is good, really good. That sample is 86 percent pure gold, but all of the rest of it is iridium, a dense and very expensive metal, with a market value equal to the gold. It has a number of scientific and manufacturing uses. I already have a buyer, if you’re interested.”

“Already?” asked Leland, who seemed genuinely surprised.

“Yes, already,” confirmed Dale. “He is willing to purchase five of those ingots initially and still more later. His offer is very generous, $980 an ounce. I think that he is mainly interested in the iridium, myself. He is a buyer for a large semiconductor manufacturer. Minus my commission and expenses, that will net you about $942 an ounce.”

“Sounds good to me,” replied Leland.

Dale reached into his file cabinet and produced a stack of paperwork. He placed it on the table before Leland. “I took the liberty of having my lawyer draw up the contract. Once you have your lawyer look it over, we can move forward.”

“That’s OK,” assured Leland. “I’ll just want to take a quick look over the papers and sign them before I leave. I trust you. I want to get this deal moving as quickly as possible.”

Dale looked at Leland incredulously. “You’re talking about a deal worth over a million dollars. It is one of the largest individual deals I’ve ever brokered. I really think you should discuss it with your lawyer first. Yes, I’m your friend, and no, I wouldn’t screw you over on this. We’re in this together. I want to keep you as a client. Still, you need to take some time on this, make sure this is the route you want to pursue.”

“I’ll take the papers home, show them to Lusan and get his approval, but I
want to keep my lawyer out of this for the moment,” said Leland.

“Lusan?” queried Dale. “That sounds French. This is the guy who gave you the gold?”

Leland realized that he had just slipped up. He didn’t do things like that usually, but the past few days had been so fast paced. He had to think quickly. Pagoni’s people had been working on creating an identity for Lusan, one that would hold up to careful government scrutiny if it came to that. This deal would go far in covering those costs, which were considerable. “Yes, that is the guy, Andre Lusan. He actually hails from Casablanca, but, yes, he is French.”

“So, he’s in mining, is he?” asked Dale.

“Well, indirectly,” was the reply. “He purchased the gold from an independent third party that hit a rich vein of gold deep in the Moroccan desert. They were the actual miners. I’m sorry. I really can’t tell you more than that.”

Dale nodded. “I fully understand. Thank you for the information. It makes more sense to me now. I still want you to take the papers home and think it over. If your client likes the deal, then bring them back tomorrow. Oh, did you want me to arrange for an armored car to come and pick up the gold bullion?”

“No, I’ll just bring it in with me tomorrow,” said Leland, placing the papers in his briefcase.

Dale nodded, but said no more. He was getting accustomed to dealing with Leland and his cavalier attitude toward security.

It was later that evening when Leland presented the papers to Lusan at dinner. It was true that Lusan and Duras really didn’t need to eat, but Krissie’s cooking was exceptional. At any rate, they needed to fit into human society, learn the customs and habits of humanity, including dinner table discussion and etiquette.

“Yes, Leland, this is totally acceptable,” said Lusan, setting down the last page following dinner. “You have done better than I had dared to hope during the first week.”

Leland smiled. “Yes, it was one week ago tonight, wasn’t it?”

“Indeed it was,” confirmed Lusan, who then turned to Krissie. “You have been such a kind and gracious hostess this past week. You have made Duras and me feel truly welcome in your home. We are most grateful.”

“Indeed, we are,” confirmed the usually silent Duras. “I particularly enjoyed our visit to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Seeing firsthand the artistic nature of humanity was most spiritually enlightening. Thank you, Krissie.”

Krissie smiled a broad smile. “And I enjoyed taking you, both of you. You are beginning to fit in with people really well.”

“Getting a more appropriate wardrobe was helpful,” noted Duras.

“Yes,” said Krissie. “Your old wardrobe sort of made you stand out in a crowd. No offense meant.”

“Oh, none taken,” assured Duras, smiling broadly. “If we are to minister to humanity, we must learn to be more human. You are an excellent teacher, Miss Krissie.”

Krissie nodded. She was becoming more at ease with the two angels, particularly with Duras. Duras seemed more open, more willing to help. Despite his quiet nature, he was actually the more considerate of the two. In fact, he had helped her prepare dinner this evening. She smiled a lot and laughed often when he was around. He could be quite amusing at times. Lusan was gracious, incredibly charming, but difficult to read. There were times that he made her feel very uneasy, though she wasn’t quite sure why.