A moment later Leon came back out. “I gave her medicine to calm her down,” he said. “She needs to sleep.”
They didn’t ask what he had given her. They didn’t have to.
“What about you?” Max asked. “You feeling any calmer now?”
Leon dropped into a threadbare armchair and lowered his head slightly, trying to hide the tears that were forming again.
These guys are always different when you get them alone, away from their posse, Jack thought. The tough talk, the gestures-it was all for show, like a peacock fanning its tail feathers to seem bigger.
“He was just a stupid runt,” Leon said. “Never hurt anybody. Not even-”
Leon stopped himself.
“Not even the guy he was supposed to pop on the Tenderloin?” Jack asked.
Leon looked up sharply. “A dude gotta know how to survive,” he said. “Off this block, another thug’s turf, you choke, you dead.”
“Did you see what happened that night?” Jack asked.
Leon didn’t answer.
“You stopped at a light,” Jack prompted. “That’s how it’s done, right?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened then?” Max asked.
Leon took a tremulous breath. “Jamal got out and I drove ahead. I looked back an’ the Arab dude was gone and Jamal was swervin’ through traffic. I saw him hit- wham, wham — an’ I went back. But I couldn’t get him out. Next thing up, I was bein’ hustled into a cop car.”
“You never saw the Arab again?”
Leon shook his head.
“What about today?” Jack asked. He moved around the coffee table and sat on the sofa. “Tell me about the cops in the Escalade.”
Leon took another breath. “I picked Jamal up when we got the okay. He was all smilin’ even though he was in a wheelchair and me an’ a nurse had to carry him into the car.” He smiled. “Banged him up, tryin’ to fit him an’ crutches.” The smile faded. “Then, ’bout an hour before you guys showed up, some cops come poundin’ on the door.”
“You saw this?”
“I heard ’em when Mom let ’em in. I was in the bedroom with Jamal. He was talkin’ about wantin’ to go to the lot, show his badass casts, an’ I told him I’d think about it. I took off out the window.”
“Why?” Jack asked.
“’Cause I heard them ask where I was.”
“Really?” Jack said. “Leon, I need to ask you something. Were you ever picked up on a gun charge?”
“What that got to do with anything?”
“Humor me.”
“Yeah, sure, once, two years ago,” Leon said. “They couldn’t prove shit.”
No, Jack thought, but it would show up on your rap sheet. If they were coming for Jamal they’d want to know where his pistol-packing brother was.
“How do you know they were driving an Escalade?” Maxine asked.
“Saw it parked out front, one of ’em standing next to it. I called Mom on the cell, but she said they went into the bedroom and closed the door. Tol’ her they had to ask Jamal a few questions. Jus’ like you.”
“And you’re sure they were cops?”
“What else?”
“Were they in uniform?”
“Suits, man,” Leon said. “Black. Plainclothes. I know the law and they was it.”
“No, Leon,” Jack said. “They were bigger than cops.”
Leon made a face. “What the hell that s’posed to mean?”
“The EMT said they phoned in the OD. That was at least a half hour ago. The Tenderloin Station is, what, five minutes from here? You’ve got the largest concentration of parolees in the city with nonstop patrols. Don’t you think they’d be here by now?”
“They don’t give a damn ’bout us, and Jamal was already dead-”
“‘Officers shall investigate and complete Juvenile Disposition Report Form 8716,’ I think it is, ‘and get a statement from the parents and/or guardian in the event of a suicide or accidental death of a person or persons under the age of eighteen,’” Jack said. “They didn’t always come to bail out my ass, either, so I memorized the codes.”
Leon and Max both looked at him.
“This is not a situation someone would slough off unless someone high up told them to do it,” Jack said, adding pointedly: “Someone high up told them to stay away. What happened when you got to the lot?”
“After a while I called Mom again and she said they was gone and Jamal was resting,” Leon said. “I figgered he just pass out, y’know what I’m sayin’?” His manner was different now, cooperative and even contrite. “Next thing I know, you two show up and there’s an ambulance.” He averted his gaze again, sniffed back tears. “I get here an’ paramedics are already about, ‘Jamal OD’d’ and Mom is screamin’ that the cops kilt him. She said she came into the bedroom and found a needle lyin’ on the bed beside his mouth.” Leon glared into space. “My kid brother stuck himself under the tongue, right, ’cause his arm was in a cast? Is that real? We kept drugs on the nightstand so we could shoot up before bed! That’s bullshit, man!”
“Isn’t that how you put your mother to sleep?” Maxine asked.
Leon shifted uneasily.
Jack leaned forward. “Are you sure Jamal didn’t take drugs?”
“I told you, man, that kid was clean. Maybe smoked some weed, but that was it.”
They were all silent a moment. There were a lot of pieces now, but they still didn’t fit. Try throwing a rock and see who throws it back, Bob Copeland had told Jack. What kind of target did they have?
“The guy standing next to the Escalade,” he said to Leon. “Did you get a good look at him?”
The kid shrugged. “Good enough, I guess.”
“Can you describe him for me?”
Leon dug a hand into his pants pocket. “Don’t need to.”
He brought his cell phone out, pressed a few buttons, then handed it to Jack.
A video started playing.
Maxine moved around next to him and they watched together, a dark, shaky shot of the tenement house from about half a block down, a tall, muscular guy in sunglasses standing near the hood of the SUV, looking off toward Jamal’s apartment.
Professional, Jack thought. But definitely not a cop, from the looks of him-local or federal.
So who was he?
The video cut to black and Jack punched a button to play it again.
“What do you think?” Jack asked as the image replayed.
“I think it’s amazing what you can shoot on a cell phone these days. That’s HD quality. Maybe I should chuck the vidcam.”
He made a face but he let it pass. That was Max’s way of blowing off tension; she’d earned the right tonight.
“Why, what do you think?” she asked.
“If I had to guess I’d say private security.”
Max squinted slightly, concentrating. “Y’know, there may be a way we can find out.”
“How?”
She pointed at the Escalade. “We don’t have a view of the license plate, but you see that little rectangle in the corner of the driver’s window?”
Jack looked, nodded. “Parking sticker.”
“Right. And I bet if I dump this video into my system at home, I’ll be able to enhance it enough to get a fix on that sticker. At least tell us where they park their car.”
“It’s a start,” Jack said, then shifted his gaze to Leon. “Is there some way you can transfer this video to Max?”
He shrugged. “E-mail.”
Jack nodded. “Good. I don’t know who’s behind all this, Leon, but I’m gonna do everything I can to find out.”
“Why?” the kid said. “Why do you even care?”
Jack studied him grimly. “Because that’s just who I am.”
12
After they left Leon, Jack and Maxine walked along the street unassaulted and climbed into her car. Two of the gang members had been watching it for them. The kids left wordlessly when they arrived.
They both needed a drink so they made their way to the nearest bar, found a booth, and ordered the best scotch the place had to offer. Jack liked Glenrothes single malt scotch but it was hard to find. He usually settled for Jameson 12, Irish whiskey.