The System - A Detroit Story - (16 page)

Kline looked at Clarence through the glass. "Dude's an amateur boxer. Used to train at Kronk. Pretty good, too, could go pro. Now he's here looking at ten to fifteen," said Kline. "It's killing him getting caught like this. Worried more about his reputation than the time. This gets out, might as well have a tattoo on his forehead. Step into the ring with that baggage?"

"What does this have to do with me?" said Washington.

"He's talking," said Kline. "He steals cars for a living. Talked about a job coming up at the Marriot, a big one." Kline looked at Clarence through the glass. "This guy's no canary, but he's giving us some useful information. They're going to hit Mercedes, parked in the Millender structure. BMWs also. And get this," said Kline. "Made none other than Cletus B. Lincoln at one of the dogfights, betting pretty heavily, too. Hanging with Alanzo Hendricks. Verified it with the kid, since he was there tending the dogs after the fight."

Washington perked up. "We can bait Millender."

"Thought you would be interested in that," said Kline.

Washington looked at his old partner and smiled. He appreciated the tip. They helped each other out, going back to their Wayne State days.

"What did you offer?" said Washington.

"Contributing, possibly child endangerment," said Kline. "We can't really prove he had sex with the boy, not without some DNA. We can make other charges stick if we try. Found a lot of bud, crack on the premises," said Kline. "Along with the dogs and fifty thousand cash. Turns out the dude running the operation is the kid's second cousin." He turned to Washington. "Want to talk to him?" asked Kline.

"Sure do," said Washington.

*   *

Washington sat across from Clarence. 

"So when does it go down?" asked Washington.

"Next Saturday night," said Clarence.

"What time?"

"Ten O'clock."

"What's the order?" asked Washington.

"Foreign," said Clarence. "Mercedes M, BMW."

Washington sat back, thinking about where he could get a Mercedes or BMW for bait. "How many?" he asked.

"Four, five if we can," said Clarence.

Washington leaned forward. "Give me some names." 

"Can't do that," said Clarence. 

"You know what you're looking at," said Washington. "Boxer loves little twinkie boys. There goes any cred you had." He stared at Clarence. "Where's the drop off? Give me names. You cooperate, chances are you may even walk. That's how the system works," said Washington.

Clarence looked at Washington. "I ain't makin' no deal with you. I already did with the other dude. That ain't how this shit works. I wanna talk to a lawyer."

"You don't need a lawyer," said Washington. "What you need right now is me." He stood and looked down at Clarence. "Now," he said. "Here's what you're going to do."

Chapter 27

The Delivery

After dropping Elena at the Tiger's Den Chris drove to Eddie's shop per Vlad's instructions. He pulled into the hanger-like garage and Eddie was waiting for him. Chris parked and got out of the car.

"Got the package?" asked Eddie.

"Got it," said Chris. "Where's my hundred grand?"

"Got to get that from Vlad." 

"Then why should I give you that package?"

"That was the deal," said Eddie. He frowned. "What's the matter, kid? Don't you trust us?"

"I take all the risk, what did you do?" said Chris.

"Keeping the shit here, ain't I?" said Eddie. "That's a bigger risk than just delivery. He's good for the hundred grand, believe me," said Eddie. "Don't fuck with him, he won't fuck with you." Eddie wheeled closer to Chris. "Besides," he said. "He likes you. He gave you that hot little piece for the ride, didn't he?"

Chris pictured Elena. "That he did."

"He'll be back here tomorrow night," said Eddie. He turned and started wheeling away. "C'mon," he said. "Get the shit and help me stash it."

Chris went to the car and pulled the package from under the dashboard, getting used to how heavy seventy five pounds felt. He followed Eddie into the back office. 

"Move that box," said Eddie, pointing to a wooden box sitting on the floor. Chris gave Eddie a puzzled look, walked over and moved the box, revealing an old in-the-ground safe.

"You talk about trust," said Eddie. "Here's the combination. Spin it to the right to start."

Chris knelt down and looked at the old safe, made of hardened steel, painted dark green like something manufactured in the 1940s.

"Twenty two, fifty four, seventy eight, nineteen," said Eddie slowly.

Chris twirled the combination lock and faintly heard the tumblers click. 

"What were the last two?"

"Seventy eight, nineteen," said Eddie.

Chris rotated the dial and in nineteen the tumblers clicked. Chris opened the heavy door. The safe interior smelled musty and stale, like opening a crypt.

"Fits just right, don't it?" said Eddie.

Chris put the package in the safe and fought to keep the combination from slipping from his memory. He associated the numbers-- twenty two and fifty eight, that was easy. That's how old his sister and mother were when his doped out mother drove her car into a tree at seventy miles an hour, killing them both. Seventy eight, that was the year he was born. Nineteen, how old he was when they released him from Juvie.

"Close it up and spin the dial," said Eddie.

Chris spun the dial and stood up and slid the box over the safe.

"Remember the combination?" asked Eddie.

"Nope," said Chris. "I'm not good at memorizing shit. Twenty two something, forty seven?"

Eddie studied him. "You seen Clarence around?"

"Negative," said Chris. "I've been away, remember? Have you?"

"No. Haven't heard from him either," said Eddie. Which wasn't unusual, they both knew. Clarence would disappear for long stretches- usually after a difficult match. He either recuperated or trained, or so they figured.

He's never missed a boost," said Chris.

Eddie paused. "There's something I gotta tell you," he said. "About the boost."

Chris didn't like the sound of Eddie's voice. "What's that?" he said.

"Paulie's going with you guys."

"What? No fucking way." 

"I know how you feel," said Eddie. "But it's business. Good business. Besides, I talked to Zippy and he said he did okay on the Book Cadillac boost."

"No fucking way he's with me," said Chris. 

"You, Clarence and Jesus go solo," said Eddie. "Paulie will stick with Zippy."

"Damn straight," said Chris.

"Don't worry about it," said Eddie. "The kid's a little hot under the collar, but he's okay. It'll make Vinnie happy."

*   *

Ann Peabody studied the breadcrumb trail on the map on her tablet. Using Google maps she saw the pinpoints through Maine, New Hampshire, New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio then around Lake Erie through Toledo into Detroit, finally stopping and disappearing in the Southwest side. She tapped on the last recorded position, displaying a latitude and longitude value, tapped again and a geocoding engine translated the lat/lon into a street address. 

Eddie Siegler's junkyard.

Chapter 28

The Millender Boost

Freeman Washington, Ann Peabody, Big Bill Purdy and Walter Robbins sat in the white surveillance van. Peabody sat in the rear bench seat with Robbins. Robbins focused on the laptop display, studying a map showing the location of the bait car in the parking structure along with two unmarked cars, one on Brush and one on Randolph. Both the Larned and Randolph exits were covered.

"Ping the bait," said Washington. 

Robbins fiddled with the mouse pad and watched the laptop display. 

"Bait's a go," he said.

Washington watched the entrance of the parking structure from the van's front passenger seat. Purdy was in the drivers seat. 

"Now we wait," said Washington.

*   *

Twenty minutes later Washington saw Clarence wearing a brown non-descript uniform round a corner and slip inside the parking structure. Clarence glanced at the white van.

"There's our mark," said Washington, sitting upright in his seat.

Once in the structure Clarence pulled his gun and walked toward the left booth at the exit gates where the head valet stood and pointed the gun in his face. 

"What the…" said the valet, staring at the gun.

"Get in the booth. Now," said Clarence calmly. The attendant froze. 

"I said get in or die. Choose." 

The valet squeezed into the small booth, dropped to the floor and huddled against the corner.

"Stay there, shut the fuck up and don't do anything stupid," said Clarence.

A valet rounded a corner of the parking structure in a silver Lexus and stopped at the booth. 

"Where's Leroy?" he said.

"Leroy got fired," said Clarence. "Boss sent me."

The valet, confused said, "But he was just here."

Clarence shrugged. "Don't know nothin' about that. Boss just sent me over." Clarence's hand tightened around the gun.

"God damn," said the valet. 

Clarence opened the gate and the valet drove out of the structure and turned on Larned. Clarence pulled a small yellow two way radio from his pants pocket, turned it on and said "Bird's in the nest."

Chris heard it through the static on his end, sitting in the drivers seat of the old but reliable Suburban. "Got it," he replied. He turned to Zippy and Jesus and said, "Alright. This is it." 

"Why don't you just use cell phones?" asked Paulie.

"No record of a call," said Chris. "Can't ID us or put us at the scene. No more questions." He turned and faced Paulie. "Listen up. Stick with Zippy. Do everything he says, watch everything he does and don't say a fuckin' word. Got it?" said Chris.

"Got it man, just like last time," said Paulie. "Chill out. Let's do this."

Chris drove a block closer, pulled the Suburban over and let Zippy and Paulie out. 

"Remember what I said," said Chris, pointing at Paulie.

He drove another half block and let Jesus out. Chris then drove around a corner, pulled into an alley, killed the ignition, put the keys under the drivers seat and got out.

*   *

Chris walked through the front vehicle entrance, made eye contact with Clarence and walked silently by. Washington watched through a pair of near-field binoculars. "White male entering the structure," he said.

"Can you make him?" asked Peabody.

"No," said Washington.

Zippy and Paulie went in a side entrance and climbed a flight of stairs to the second level. Two valets stood near the key locker, smoking. One started dancing like James Brown and the other laughed as Zippy and Paulie approached. Zippy pulled his 38 and pointed it at the dancing valet. 

"Hey, man. What is this?" said the valet.

"Shut the fuck up," said Zippy. "Turn around and walk."

Jesus walked up, gun in hand and covered the other valet while he rifled through the key locker. He pulled out three keys, two Mercedes, one of them an M class and one BMW. 

"Give him your cell phones," said Zippy, motioning to Paulie. The valets handed Paulie their phones.

"Now lie down," said Zippy. "Face first."

The two valets lay on the ground, heads turned, cheeks on the cold, oil-spotted cement. One started whimpering.

"Shut the fuck up, asshole," said Paulie. Zippy gave him a quick look. Them shut up? How about you? Jesus walked over and with two large nylon tie-wraps bound their hands behind their backs. He held his gun to each of the valet's heads, going back and forth, making sure they could feel the barrel against their skulls as he tightened the straps.

Zippy walked over and knelt by the valets. "You make one noise, just one, even when we're gone, I'll know. My friend will know. He's not as nice as me. He will come back and kill both of you."

"Okay, man." 

Chris walked up to Jesus. "What we got?"

Jesus handed out the keys, smiling. "Take number ten," he said, handing him the M class keyfob. He handed the other Mercedes fob to Zippy. "Number twenty two," said Jesus. Chris looked at Paulie and pointed to Zippy. "Stick with him," he said.

"This is such a fucking rush, man," said Paulie.

*  *

Clarence pulled a different radio from his pocket, much smaller. He pressed a button and said, "It's going down." Instantly Washington was on the radio. "All units, five-o-three. I repeat. All units, five-o-three."

*  *

Zippy and Paulie eased the sleek Mercedes out of the parking space and headed down the exit ramp. They passed the open gate, courtesy of Clarence. Chris started the Mercedes and started driving down the low ceiling structure. Jesus came down in the BMW. Clarence was gone.

Walter Robbins watched the laptop display. The driver's door and ignition indicator lit up and the Mercedes was moving, just exiting the parking structure.

"Fish on," said Robbins.

Before Jesus made the exit Clarence said to the valet, "Have a nice day," turned the corner and walked to the Suburban. He took the keys from under the seat. Three quarters of a tank of gas. He had two thousand cash in his pocket, wondering how far it would take him. Fuck the cops and their deal. Clarence drove away, heading toward Mexico.

"Bait's out," said Robbins, hearing two squad car sirens. 

"Kill it," said Washington.

Zippy and Paulie turned right onto Woodward when they heard the sirens and saw the squad cars. 

"Holy fuck!" shouted Paulie.

Zippy hit the gas and swerved around a small white delivery truck. He pressed the accelerator all the way to the floorboard but the vehicle slowed. Two squad cars were lit up behind him. The Mercedes rolled to a stop.

"Fuck me," said Zippy. What were the odds, he thought. Popped. He put his hands on the steering wheel and was already calculating his time. One prior, served five years, but that was when he was a kid. Maybe this time ten to fifteen, depending on the judge. Maybe out in seven, based on good behavior and overcrowding, maybe less if he gave the others up….and he wasn't about to do that.