Black Water Transit (5 page)

“Negative operational developments?”

“Kidnappings. Breaches of site security. Intellectual property protection. Civil unrest that affects a branch plant. Anything that a corporation wouldn’t want handled by a federal agency. Anything that requires a tactful and extremely low-profile solution. Situations that the corporation wouldn’t like to have tossed around on CNN.”

“What’s the
V
stand for?”

Pike didn’t get it at once, and then he smiled.

“Varus. My father was a military historian.”

“Didn’t Varus lose his eagles?”

“Yes. To the Germans. My father fought in the Second World War. He thought it would be a cautionary reminder.”

“The shipment. Why not use your own connections?”

“I did. I used Dave Fontenot.”

“You do work for Chase?”

“I’m not in a position to confirm or deny that.”

“So I’m still confused. Why run the risk of doing
business with me this way? The ‘administrative fee’? The secrecy? You must know how to move … goods … without asking for help from a stranger.”

“I don’t care to involve my firm in this matter. My collection is a purely personal matter. I’m asking you because Dave Fontenot said you were a solid guy, you went your own way, had the balls I was looking for. Maybe he was wrong.”

Jack watched his face. The guy was angry, but for some reason he was working hard to hold his temper. It made no sense to Jack. Here was a man with connections, a man who knew how to slip-slide down the back roads. Why was he working so hard to sell Jack on this stunt? Maybe Pike saw the look.

“Enough of this, okay? I’m being a pain. I’ll tell you something I didn’t think I’d have to say. I talked to one of Frank Torinetti’s people about you. Guy named Carmine DaJulia.”

Jack failed to hide the effect this had on him.

Pike watched him.

“How do you know Frank?”

“I don’t. We know the same people, that’s all. I helped Carmine with a problem in Central America. We had a good business relationship. Carmine mentioned that Frank has a firearms collection of his own. Carmine had a word with him, your name came up, among some others. You were first on my list. That’s why I’m here today.”

Jack was completely rocked and tried not to show it. But Earl Pike could read a man, and he spoke again more softly.

“Look, Jack … let’s start fresh. I’m just a man trying to preserve a degree of personal freedom in the face of an intrusive firearms policy. I gotta tell you, as a man who knows them well, the feds mean none of us any good. They’re screwing with gun owners today. Next
week it could be you. Whoever gets their attention, whoever looks like they can be skinned alive to entertain the voters. I believe with all my heart that this government has become an enemy of the people. But that’s not your problem. Not yet, anyway. The fee I was offering was merely a recognition of the enhanced service level I was asking for. If I expect you to maintain a degree of confidentiality concerning this shipment, then I should be prepared to compensate you for the extra work entailed. It’s crazy that you see this as a bribe. You don’t hit me as a guy into melodrama.”

“Getting my corporate charter revoked isn’t melodrama.”

Pike nodded and let out a long breath.

“I see your point. I was trying to transport a firearms collection that is important to me, a collection the Pike family has spent six generations gathering together. People in my family died for some of these pieces, or in the getting of them, in places like Ciudad Juarez, Gettysburg, Belleau Woods, the Falaise Pocket, the Reservoir, LZ Bitch, Co Roc. I was a soldier, like my father and his father, all the way back. Two hundred years. That’s what our family does. We soldier. How does the nation repay us? I have to get my collection out of the country just to keep it together. I don’t want to see this inheritance—this blood gift from my ancestors—grubbed up or sold on the sly to ATF insiders or lost in a federal warehouse like Kane’s wooden sleigh. My friend in Merida will cherish it. And I’d be happy for the money, to be honest. The collection is worth millions. And perhaps the relief from the burden. I have no … family … anymore. There’s no one left in my line. I have to hand it on somehow. I admit this issue of my collection is irrational, emotional. I’m being a pest. I’ll say good-bye.”

Pike offered his hand and seemed ready to walk away.

Jack didn’t take it.

“I’m not saying I won’t do the work.”

“What are you saying?”

“I suppose I’m saying I resent the offer of a personal fee.”

“Then don’t take it. I have already apologized for insulting you. Does this mean you’ll consider the shipment?”

Jack said nothing for almost a minute. Pike waited in silence and showed no impatience in the waiting. He was a very self-possessed man. Finally Jack nodded.

“Yes. I’ll consider it.”

“I’ll be in touch with you then? About the details?”

“Yes. But no ‘administrative fee.’ Understand?”

“Understood.”

He offered his hand. Pike suddenly beamed at him like a boon companion. They shook on it. Jack watched him drive away, fired up his Cobra, picked up his cellular, thought about it, and two minutes later called Creek Johnson from a pay phone at an ARCO station a little outside Ravenna.

Creek picked up his cell phone on the fifth ring.

“Damn, Jackson—I got a ball hanging on the lip of the cup here. I get a good crosswind, that sucker’s in for a birdie.”

“It’s a Mexican ball.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It needs one more revolution.”

“I like that. Is it yours?”

“Creek, I gotta run something by you.”

“Now?”

“Now.”

“Okay. We’re on the sixteenth. Meet me at my place. I’ll cook up some steaks. Bring me one of your good old reds from out of that vault you got.”

“What’s this? A date?”

“One of the good ones, okay? Don’t be bringing me none of that Sonoma crap. Frog’s Leap or whatever. I want something French.”

“I will. Creek, be alone, okay? No naked dental technicians in the swimming pool this time.”

“You sound a tad intense, Jackson. Is this serious?”

“Yes. I think it’s serious.”

“I’ll be there. Alone.”

They let Tony LoGascio think about the unpredictability of street life for an hour, sitting in the back of the cruiser while Levon went to a White Castle and got them all some burgers. While he was gone, Casey refused to respond to any conversational openers from LoGascio. Let him cook awhile longer.

Levon came back and handed LoGascio a burger and a Coke and they all ate in a heavy silence. When they were through, Levon gathered up the wrappers and tossed them, then climbed back into the cruiser. Tony was staring at his half-eaten burger with the look of an honest and good-hearted man deeply wounded by a trusted friend.

“So, now what?” said Levon, watching Tony LoGascio jump at the sound of his voice and go through more color changes than Michael Jackson.

“Now,” said Casey, “we Mirandize Hopalong here and—”

Tony bounces off the seat.

“Wait a minute. Wait!”

Casey shook her head sadly.

“Too late. Can’t wait. What you don’t appreciate is, you get to stop talking and we read you your own personal rights. Officer Jamal, be my guest and read Mr. LoGascio his very own personal and totally custom-fitted rights.”

“Thank you, Officer Spandau. It will be my pleasure. Mr. LoGascio? Listen up. You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer questions. Do you understand?”

“I want to talk to the DA. I know some shit. Serious, heavy shit. We can do a deal. Listen to me.”

“Now, if you plan to talk about some other crime,” says Casey, “and I say this to you very sincerely, you keep it to yourself. Just answer the Miranda question. Now … anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. You follow this?”

“Yes.”

“You have the right to consult an attorney and to have an attorney present during questioning. You understand?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Let the record show,” says Levon, “that the subject replied in the affirmative.”

“What’s the charge? What am I charged with?”

“Like we said, sodomy with a minor, Section 130.40. Let us finish here, please? I lose track easy. If you cannot afford an attorney, we’ll pay for one for you. If an attorney is not available, you have the right to remain silent until you can talk to one. You following? It’s very important, Tony. Try to focus.”

“Look … we can work this out. I can—”

“Shut up,” said Levon. “Please? Now, Tony LoGascio, you have been advised of your rights. Do you want to answer questions at this time?”

“About what? No. I want a lawyer.”

“Got anybody in mind?” asked Casey.

“No—yes. Maybe. I don’t know. Shit.”

“Okay, relax, we’ll get you one at the station.”

“This sucks, you know? This is wrong, what you’re doing.”

“Life is just one big Shop-Vac,” said Casey. “But there’s an upside. You get job skills training. Hell, by the time you get out of Sing Sing, you’ll be able to suck-start a leaf blower. Shall we proceed, Officer Jamal?”

“Wait,” says Tony. “There’s gotta be something we can do here!”

“What’s that, Tony? Not a thing, Tony. Now, you asked for a lawyer. Once you do that, there’s nothing we got to say to each other. Nothing we can do. Out of our hands. We can’t even ask you what day it is. Once you say that magic
lawyer
word, the whole thing runs on automatic pilot.”

“I want a plea bargain. I can give you both of them.”

“A plea bargain?” Casey shakes her head. “We can’t discuss a plea bargain. We can’t even
hint
at a plea bargain. To do so would be very wrong. Am I right, Officer Jamal?”

“It would be very wrong, Officer Spandau. It would be, like, totally wrongfully wrong. It would be … egregious.”

“Egregious?” said Casey, raising an eyebrow.

Levon nodded.

“Egregious,” he said again, savoring each syllable. It came out as “a-gree-juss.” Casey fought against an outright laugh. In the meantime, Tony LoGascio’s cup of sorrows ran over the brim. His voice reached a sort of strangled soprano squeal. Down the block, lapdogs were sitting up and cocking their pointy little heads. Bats became disoriented and flew into walls all along Gansevoort. Goldfish rolled over and died in their goldfish bowls. Casey watched with interest as a large purple vein began to bulge along the left side of
LoGascio’s throat. It looked extremely promising. Casey hoped he’d have a massive stroke or at least pop a vasectomy clip.

“Rocco and Benno. I can take you right to them.”

Casey shakes her head. She’s baffled.

“Rocky and Bullwinkle? Don’t know them. Never heard of them. I think I’m deaf. Let’s go, Officer Jamal. Let’s
roll
here. I need something more complicated than burgers. I’m thinking, after we drop Tony here in the shit, we go someplace nice, have some chorizos and ribs.”

“I’m sick of chorizos, Officer Spandau. I am sick of all that Latin food. How about that place up at Third and Twenty-eighth? Jai-Ya something?”

“Now, Officer Jamal, you know very well that’s Thai food. I hate that Oriental shit. Peanut shells in a gunpowder sauce. Dead leaves in a soup looks like an oil spill. Biscuits made out of bug bits.”

Tony LoGascio now lost it. Officially.

“
Look, willyajustwaitaminute? Willya just listen?
”

“Your trouble there, Officer Spandau,” says Levon, “is you never want to try anything new.”

“
They’re brothers. The Scarpas. The Scarpa brothers!
”

“I do
so
, Officer Jamal, I tried that Le Pesca dinka-doo place, off Prince there? Cost us a fortune and the food should have been served in an evidence bag. It’s not that I don’t want
new
, it’s that I— Tony, will you shut the hell up? We’re trying to plan a dinner here!”

“Christ, Officers, willya wait!
They
did it.”

Casey shrugs, turns around to look at Tony in the backseat.

“Okay, Tony. You win. Who did it?”

“The
Scarpa
brothers. They did the thing!”

“
What
thing? Tony, what the heck
are
you going on about? I thought we were talking about your Section 130 beef. What are
you
talking about here? Make sense,
okay? I’m hungry. Here you are, running off at the mouth about some Scarpa
thing.
”

“In Harlem. The Shawana Coryell thing. I can give you those guys. They both did her. All I did was bag the little bitch.”

Casey gives Levon a thin-lipped smile.

“Nice,” says Levon, and he nods. “Very nice.”

Casey Spandau gives him a prim little head bow.

“Thank you,” she says.

Then a short pause.

“Egregious?”

“It pays to increase your word power,” said Levon.

Creek’s top-floor condo in the University Park Towers had a huge terrace that overlooked the tree-covered grounds of the State University of New York at Albany. His suite was all white, with polished hardwood floors and a dark-gray marble gas fireplace. The massive kitchen was full of stainless-steel appliances and lit by halogen pots recessed into a polished copper ceiling. The overall look was accidental minimalist, because Creek didn’t have too much in the way of furniture right now. His last girlfriend, a Lufthansa flight attendant named Zutzie, had made off with every last stick about a month ago, shortly after she had found a pair of shell-pink thong panties stuffed into the hip pocket of a pair of Creek’s golfing slacks. Needless to say, not hers.

A few days later Creek had come back from a hectic weekend in Bermuda with a chakra manipulation therapist named Aurora Moonbeam and found the place
completely bare except for his circular waterbed, which had been expertly gutted with a steak knife.

Creek knew it was done with a steak knife because Zutzie had left it sticking up out of a sodden tangle of black satin sheets. Zutzie had also hacked into Creek’s Schwab.com account and shorted the Vancouver Stock Exchange and loaded him up with flaky dot-com futures on a lunatic margin call. Then she posted his e-mail address on a kiddie-porn site, unplugged the freezer, jammed his Cartier tank watch into the Cuisinart, poured bleach into his tropical fish tank, injected Krazy Glue into the frontdoor lock, and, as she was leaving, called an automated time-and-date service in Kyoto and left the line open. That was on Thursday night. Creek had come back late Monday afternoon. He had walked around the empty apartment awhile, and then he picked up the phone and listened to a sexy female voice speaking Japanese to him. Whatever she was saying, it grew rather repetitive, and he put the phone down after a few minutes.