“There’s a plan,” Jerry snapped. “Don’t go saying there’s no plan. We just have to keep a few details undecided until we’re on the scene and can assess the conditions. And we’ve got quite a few decisions worked out in advance so if certain things go wrong, we’re not wasting time arguing about what to do. We all know and agreed ahead of time.”
“You’re both ready to shoot Kapak, who’s been pretty good to us, ready to shoot anybody who stumbles in, and then put all their bodies in Dumpsters. Are we all supposed to agree on where the Dumpsters are?”
“Don’t worry about any of that, Jimmy” said Jerry. “He’s not going to be able to cause trouble or anything. We’ll walk in, and nothing he does to stop us will work.”
“Why is that?”
“For the same reason we have to do this in the first place. He’s not the old Kapak. He’s lost his luck. He’s a magnet for trouble and ill fortune.”
“You’re really sure about that?” asked Jimmy.
“I’m so sure I can feel it and taste it and smell it.”
Jimmy looked at Voinovich. He was at the workbench loading extra magazines for his gun, pointedly pantomiming that he considered this a private dispute between the brothers. It wasn’t his business.
Jerry leaned close and spoke quietly. “You don’t want to be the one who sticks with the old man after his luck is gone and the money has been taken, and all the others have bailed out.”
Jimmy could see that their mother’s expression of clairvoyance had appeared on Jerry’s face—the wide-eyed expression of conviction and absolute confidence in his vision. It brought back the many times when their mother would lean close that way to impart her latest prophecy. Jimmy’s spine chilled and he felt a little shiver. Jerry and their mother had been born with the terrible gift, but Jimmy hadn’t. He had never felt a half-second of envy, but the sheer strangeness of it had created a distance with him on one side and his mother and only brother on the other. Maybe Jimmy’s only gift was to feel the chill to warn him that his brother was in a state. “Okay, then,” he said. “If you’re so sure, then we’d better be going.”
They walked out of the garage to the driveway and climbed into Voinovich’s SUV. The big vehicle backed out into the street, and Jimmy heard Jerry cycle a round into the chamber of his gun. He hoped that didn’t mean Jerry’d had another premonition.
33
KAPAK SPOKE into his cell phone. “I just spent nearly an hour talking to Lieutenant Slosser. I need you to come and pick me up at the Parker Center.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Spence pressed the red phone symbol to end the call and put his phone away as he stood up. “He’s at the police station downtown. That lieutenant is bugging him again.”
“It’s an opportunity. You know what you want him to feel,” said Joe Carver. “So you say the things that will make him feel that way. If you run out of ideas, call. I’ll be right here in the guesthouse.”
“Just stay out of sight. I’ll probably be bringing him back here.” Spence went out the door of the guesthouse and made his way up the path through the tropical plants to the back of the house. He went right to the garage, got into the black Town Car, and backed it out of the driveway.
Spence drove downtown quickly. He had planned to pull up near the Parker Center where he had waited for Kapak during his first police interview, but when he reached North Los Angeles Street, he could already see him. Kapak was standing on the sidewalk in front of the white stone with the weathered brass letters: DEDICATED TO WILLIAM H. PARKER, CHIEF OF POLICE. Spence stopped in front of the sign, leaned over, and pushed the door open, and Kapak climbed in looking irritated.
“See if the bastards follow us,” he said.
Spence drove a couple of blocks, turned, and went back the other way, then made a U-turn and then a series of right turns until he was near a freeway entrance with a split ramp that sent cars on the 110 freeway or the 101. He went onto the freeway, stayed to the 110 side until the last second, then changed lanes to go onto the 101. “Nobody was following. What did they want you for?”
“Lieutenant Slosser got the idea that I killed Rogoso last night and burned his house in Malibu.”
“Somebody did that?”
“Yeah. He had two men with him too—Alvin and Chuy. Slosser got the idea that it was me. I put up with the accusations as long as I could, until he got on my nerves. Then I said I wanted my lawyer, and he told me I could go.”
“I guess you must have been incredibly shocked to hear about Rogoso to begin with.”
“Not so much.”
“You did it?”
“I wouldn’t tell you, but since you did Joe Carver and didn’t make any big thing of telling me, I have to. Yeah, I did it. He was a rotten, crazy, greedy son of a bitch, and he was getting worse every day. He decided I was drawing attention to myself by letting Joe Carver rob me over and over. I’m listening to a man who had just bought a fifteen-million-dollar house on the beach at Malibu telling me I’m drawing attention. What he really thought was that I must be too weak to fight him off. That he could take over my clubs and kill me.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah. He told his two monsters, Alvin and Chuy, to take me out for a ride and kill me. There wasn’t much choice.”
“If they’re dead and you’re here, you must have done the right thing.”
“That’s what I think.”
“And you killed everybody there and torched the house?”
“Well, there were a couple of girls—drug mules, no more than seventeen or eighteen, I think—who had come to take me to meet with Rogoso. I guess he used them because they didn’t look scary. And maybe because nobody wants some guy frisking him for weapons, but a girl can get away with checking everywhere.”
“Let me get this straight. What you did last night was kill Manuel Rogoso and Alvin and Chuy, and burn down the house. But there were also two witnesses, girls who worked for Rogoso.”
“Yeah.”
“Are they dead too?”
“No. I gave them the keys to Alvin’s car and told them to get out of there. I gave them time before I lit the fires in the house.”
“Holy shit. Where are they now?”
“I saw them a little while ago back at the police station.”
“Oh my God.”
“They’re drug mules. They could be in the station for anything—possession and sales is what they do—or maybe they’re out of work since Rogoso died, and they were caught turning tricks or boosting things from stores.”
“The day after the killing?”
“Young kids don’t know how to save money anymore.”
“They had to be in the police station ratting you out.”
“Could be,” Kapak admitted.
“It’s got to be,” Spence said. “Talking to the police is probably their only shot at staying alive.”
“Think so?”
“If Rogoso’s people know the girls were in the house when you killed Rogoso, how can they not think the girls helped you?”
“I guess you’re right. The police will protect them, maybe get them out of town.”
“How are we going to get you out of here?”
“What do you mean?
“You can’t stay in L.A.”
“Wait a minute. I haven’t decided anything like that. I mean, think about it. We’ve all had a rough week. It’s all just part of the Joe Carver problem. He robbed me a month ago, but we didn’t find him in all that time. That was what caused all this trouble for us. The worst thing it did was make that rat bastard Rogoso think he could kill me and take over. But you got Joe Carver, so he’s not going to be a nuisance anymore. I got Rogoso last night, and so he’s not a problem. There was a war going on for a few days, but it didn’t bring us down. We won. Our enemies are dead. It’s over.”