"It began about a month ago. One of my girls was out with a client. After they had sex and she got ready to leave, he beat her up."
"Was she hurt badly?" Black asked and finished his drink.
"Bad enough that she couldn’t work for a couple of weeks until her wounds healed. A week later the same thing happened again. Same pattern, new client, took the girl someplace secluded, beat her after sex," Jada said and took Black’s glass from his hand. She went to the bar to refresh his drink. "A few days later I was at The Pen-Top Bar amp; Terrace inside the Peninsula Hotel having dinner with a potential client, when this man sits down at the table with us," Jada said as she poured.
"What did he want?"
"Once he scared off the client, he told me that he was my new partner," Jada returned with the drink and handed it to Black. "He said that he was responsible for what had happened to my girls, and if I wanted it to stop that I would give him twenty percent."
"What did you tell him?"
Jada laughed. "I basically told him to kiss my ass, and I got up and left."
"Since we’re having this conversation, I take it that it didn’t stop there."
"No. I figured if we tightened up and did a better job of screening our clients that at least the girls would be safe, and I would deal with this clown and his threats. But then he began catching them before they got to the clients or after they were finished."
"Your girls don’t have security?"
"Some do. They have men that drive them to their appointments and pick them up afterwards, but he targeted the ones that don’t have any type of security. He came here last night and caught me in the elevator."
"He didn’t hurt you did he?"
"No. He just wanted to make his point and scare me."
"What he say?"
"Same thing; my problems go away for twenty percent."
"Don’t you have security?"
"No."
"Maybe you should get some," Black advised.
"No," Jada insisted. "I don’t need security. I need Mike Black," she said and moved close to him.
"Me? Why you think you need me?"
"Do I really need to answer that question?"
"No. Not really. I get the point. So, if take care of this guy for you, what makes you think that I wouldn’t want twenty percent of your business?"
"Because you’d be doing me a favor. You know, like the one I did for you not too long ago."
"I see."
"I was talking to James Fremeno. You remember the reporter from the New York Post that I set out for you."
"How’s he doing?"
"He said that he wanted to thank me for putting him in touch with Miss Collins, because the story she gave him was inline to win some award for reporting."
"The Tom Renner Award for Crime Reporting."
"Was that what it was?" Jada giggled. "Then he told me that the guy the articles were about ended up getting murdered in Mexico. A DEA agent; Peter J. Vinnelli, I believe his name was."
"I see you’ve been checkin’ up on me, Ms. West?"
"Jada, please, call me Jada," she said and smiled at Black. "But, no, I’m not checking up on you. It’s like I told you, you’re a very important man, Mike Black. And I try to know important things about important men."
"How do you wanna come outta this?"
"With this guy off my back and me not owing you twenty percent of my business," Jada said quietly.
"How’d you leave it with him?"
"He said he would be back here tomorrow afternoon, and he’ll expect my answer."
"What time tomorrow?"
"He didn’t say."
Black looked at Jada for what seemed to her like a long time. "Okay. I’ll see what I can do for you."
"That’s the best I could ask for," Jada said.
"What’s this guy’s name?"
"He said his name was Mushnikov. I think that’s how it’s pronounced."
"Oleg Mushnikov?" Black asked.
"I believe so. Do you know him?"
"Yeah, I know Oleg. We’re not exactly what you’d call friends, but I do know him," Black said and laughed a little. "You mind if I use your phone?"
"Not at all," Jada said and got up to get it. She knew she had come to the right person. Jada always loved a man who could get things done for her, and Mike Black was that type of man.
She handed Black the phone and he dialed a number. "Yeah," a man’s voice answered.
"Let me speak to Angelo."
"Who the fuck is this?"
"Mike Black."
"Who the fuck is that?"
"I’m the mutha fucka that’s gonna put a bullet in your brain if you don’t put Angee on the phone right fuckin’ now!" Black shouted and looked at Jada. He put his hand over the phone. "Please, excuse my language," he said softly and returned his attention to the phone. He could hear Angelo in the background asking who was on the phone.
"Some guy says his name is Mike Black."
"Give me the phone, fuckin’ moron," Angelo said. "Mikey! How’s it goin’?"
"Everything’s good, Angee. What about you?"
"Same old shit. You on your way out here? I got a bottle of Remy Martin XO Premier Cru here with your name on it."
"Not tonight, Angee, I got a couple of things goin’ right now, but I need your help with something."
"What’s up?"
"When’s the last time you talked to Oleg?"
"It’s been a minute. Probably the last time we all got drunk together, why?"
"I need to talk to him. Can you arrange a sit down with him?"
"Sure. I’ll give him a call in the morning," Angelo said.
"No, Angee, I need to talk to him tonight," Black said and looked at Jada. "Can you do it?"
"Sounds serious."
"Yeah, Angee, it kinda is." Jada smiled at him and pushed her pouty lips out a little.
"I’ll give him a call right now and get back to you."
"Thanks, Angee," Black said and ended the call. He turned to Jada and handed her the phone. "I’ll take Oleg off your back, and then we’ll talk about what you owe me, Ms. West," he said and stood up.
"Jada, please, Jada," she said and walked Black to the door. "And thank you for agreeing to help me," Jada said and kissed Black on the cheek.
"What was that for?"
"Just wanted to see how it felt," Jada said.
"And?"
Jada opened the door. "We’ll talk about that when you tell me what I owe you."
"Fair enough," Black said and left her apartment and walked past Victor. "Come on, we got shit to do."
CHAPTER TWENTY
After leaving Jada’s apartment, Black called Bobby’s cell phone and it went straight to voicemail.
"That’s unusual," Black said and dialed Bobby’s number again.
"What’s that?"
"Bobby’s phone went straight to voicemail." Once again it went to voicemail. He tried to call Bobby at his house, and Bobby’s wife Pam answered the phone.
"Hello," she answered.
"Hey, Pam, it’s Mike. How you doin’?"
"I’ll do," Pam said, but Black could tell that something was wrong with her.
"Is Bobby there?"
"No that bastard ain’t here."
"What’s wrong, Pam?"
"I’m just tired of his shit, Mike."
"What happened, Pam?"
"I’m just sick and tired of his bitches callin’ the house. I can’t go through this again, Mike," Pam said.
"I understand, Pam. And you shouldn’t have to. But Bobby told me it was just a misunderstanding. He didn’t even know that woman like that," Black said, trying to be a friend and comfort her.
He liked Pam, felt like he owed her. Not only was Pam very helpful with Michelle before she went to live with his mother in Freeport, but it was Pam that saved Shy’s life when Melinda tried to kill her.
"That’s the same bullshit he told me," Pam said calmly. "And if that’s the case, why does this bitch keep calling here?"
"She called again?"
"Called here again tonight."