"Just a regular Pam Grier, ain’t she?"
"You know what I’m sayin’?"
"It’s a colorful story, Sal, but why you tellin’ me this shit?"
"When Paris sent the first guy after her, she was carryin’ a package for him. The package was never recovered. And the buyer really wanted that package."
"And?"
"I don’t know who the buyer was, but your pal General Peterson was brokering the deal."
"Now you got my attention. What was in the package?"
"The way I get it, it’s got somethin’ to do with South America and drugs."
Nick took a deep breath. He knew that the buyer had to be Diego Estabon. Both the General and Felix worked for him, so it made sense that he was the buyer. That would also explain Diego’s interest in him. If he couldn’t kill Nick, then maybe he could get Black to do it for him by accusing Nick of being DEA.
"You want something, Sal. What is it?"
"With Paris and the General both dead and the package still in the open, I figure a smart guy like me could step in and clean up. But I need to know what I’m looking for, so I was hopin’ that since you was down there fuckin’ around with the General, you might know something about it."
"Sorry, Sal, I can’t help you," Nick lied. He had a good idea what was in those papers. There was probably enough information in them to get a lot of people in trouble for their involvement in the illegal drug eradication that Nick’s unit was involved in. Diego was probably not the only one anxious to make those papers disappear, along with Nick and his partners, who could be called to testify if the truth ever surfaced in Washington.
"Good luck. I hope it works out for you." Without another word, Nick left Sally Fitz standing there.
As Freeze drove off, Nick told him what Sally Fitz told him about Sal Terrico. Freeze immediately called Black.
"I know," Black said. "We got a tip from Angelo. We’re on our way there now."
"He likes the black tittie joints in Queens, but Cityscape is his favorite."
"You and Nick check that out. I’ll call you later," Mike said.
"We’re on it," Freeze said and turned to Nick. "We gotta check out that club," he said, but Nick didn’t answer. "Nick, you all right, man?"
"Huh?"
"Black wants us to check out Cityscape."
"Okay," Nick replied, but his mind was still on Felix and the General and those missing papers. If those papers were still in the open and the buyer still wanted them, then Monika might still be in danger.
"Drive by the hospital, Freeze. I need to check on Monika."
Chapter Thirteen
On Angelo’s word, Bobby drove out to Queens to a house on Maxwell Road. They both knew the place. It was known to be a shooting gallery, where a select clientele came to buy and shoot heroin. The place was run by a guy called Dirty Red. They called him that because of his long, red hair and beard, not to mention the fact that he was a dirty muthafucka. Some of Red’s customers were important people who came there to get high in a safe and secure atmosphere.
Bobby parked the car, and he and Mike put on their gloves. They approached the house and knocked on the door. Mike took out his gun. One of Red’s men opened the door. "Red here?" Bobby asked the huge man.
"Never heard of him."
"Yeah, right," Mike said as he hit the man in the head with his gun.
"Heard of him now?" Bobby asked as the man fell to the floor. Then Bobby hit him again to be sure he was out cold.
Red heard the noise and came down the hall. "Black, Bobby, what are you doin’ out here?" Red was a tall man, but he didn’t weigh more than 185 pounds.
"We came for the same thing everybody else does. We came to see you, Red," Bobby said as he literally pushed his way past Red.
"I didn’t know you guys were into this stuff. Well, since you’re already in, what can I do for you?"
"We’re lookin’ for Sal Terrico," Bobby explained.
"Never heard of him," Red answered.
"Come on, Red," Bobby said. "Stop fuckin’ around. We’re lookin’ for Sal Terrico. Is he here?"
"Look, I know people, important people," Red said.
"It was those people who sent us here," Bobby explained as Mike walked down the hall. He heard voices and saw a light coming from a room at the end of the hall.
"Whoa," Red said. "Slow down. You can’t just come in here and start wandering around." Red walked up on Mike and reached for his shoulder, but before he could touch Mike, Bobby grabbed Red. He spun him around and grabbed Red’s throat. "What the fuck are you doin’?" Red said, clutching his throat.
"You’re not listening to me, Red," Bobby said. "And it hurts me." Bobby tightened his grip and Red gasped for air. "Now, let start again. We’re lookin’ for Sal Terrico."
While Bobby busied himself with Red, Mike reached the end of the hall. The room turned out to be the kitchen. A man who looked very impatient and a woman holding a spoon over a candlelit flame were seated at the table. In front of her lay a thin rubber hose and a metal box with syringes in it.
"What took you so long, Red? Marge here is ready to fly. Aren’t you, sweetie?" the man said and looked up to see that it was not Red, but Mike. "Hello," the man said.
"You should go," Mike said softly, and took his gun out of his pocket.
"What the-?"
"Now."
Both the man and the woman started to stand up. Mike looked at the woman. She was an attractive woman with long, blonde hair, very pretty eyes, and entirely too much makeup. "You stay. Finish what you were doin’."
"But that’s mine. I paid for it," the man said. Mike looked at him. "Okay, okay, I’m going."
The man rushed out of the kitchen and down the hall past Bobby, who was still holding Red by the throat. "Bye-bye, sweetie," Bobby said. Once he was out, Bobby pushed Red into the kitchen, just as the woman finished filling a syringe with the heroin she’d been cooking. Mike held out his hand and she passed it to him.
"Now you can go."
With a very relieved look on her face, the woman quickly gathered her things. "So, I’ll call you, Red."
As soon as the woman was gone, Bobby grabbed Red again. With one arm, Mike cleared everything from the table. Bobby threw Red down on the table and held him there. "We’re looking for Sal Terrico. Is he here?" Bobby yelled.
"Fuck you, nigger. You can’t just walk on in here and-" Red began to protest, but Mike punched him in the face.
"You don’t want me to have to go room to room looking for him. If I do, most of your customers will never come back here. They’ll find someplace else to shoot themselves to oblivion," Mike said as he stood over Red with the syringe in his hand.
"What you gonna do?" Red laughed. "Shoot me with my own shit?" Red pulled up his sleeve to reveal his track marks. "Go ahead! All I’ll be is high! And I still ain’t tellin’ you shit!"
"Hold his head, Bobby."
Bobby grabbed Red by the throat with one hand and held his forehead with the other. Mike held his gun to Red’s head and slowly moved the syringe toward Red’s eye. "Who said I was gonna put it in your arm?" Mike inched the syringe closer.
Red tried to move his head, but Bobby’s grip was too tight. The terror was apparent on Red’s face as the syringe came close to his eye.
"Okay!"
Mike stopped. "Where is he?"
"Okay, he was here. But he’s gone now."
"Was he alone?"
"No. He had some black chick with him."
Bobby looked at Mike. "What she look like?" he asked.
"She was tall for a chick, five-nine, maybe five-ten. Dark-skinned with long hair," Red gasped as Bobby tightened his grip on Red’s throat.
"Was she all right?"
"Yes!" Red spit out. "She was all over him, beggin’ him to hurry up and get it."
Mike looked at Bobby. Since he knew that Cassandra wasn’t a shooter, Mike assumed it wasn’t her. On top of that, it wouldn’t make any sense at all for Sal to be riding around with her.