Prince of the City (8 page)

“Fuck you, Mike. I'm hanging up.”

“Okay baby, I'm sorry. I was just playing. You know I love Linda. If I didn't I wouldn't let you take my son around her.”

“Well, don't play like that. You know how I am about Linda. Plus, if I tell her what you said, she'd probably kick your ass.”

“Yeah, right.” Michael laughed. “Linda may have some heart, but she ain't stupid.”

“Shut up! Ooooo, you make me sick.”

“Then go to the hospital.”

“I already did. I work at one, fool! Remember?”

They both laughed.

“I love you, baby,” Michael said.

“I love you too, and when I get home I want you to love me some more.”

“You got that, baby. You're the queen.”

“See you later.”

“Bye baby. And tell Malik to call me when he gets over Linda's.”

“Okay, baby.”

Michael hung up the phone and began pacing the living room while drinking his glass of Remy Martin. He was contemplating his call to Frank Mathews. In the beginning, Frank said he only wanted to deal with Michael. Michael was trying to figure out a way to make him understand that Sam wanted to continue with the connection. He knew he couldn't make up a lie. The best thing he could do was try to persuade Frank to deal with Sam. Even if he wouldn't work with Sam, Big Luke was coming back soon, and Sam personally knew Big Luke, so he could cop from Luke directly. Although his prices would be more, Sam would still have a steady flow.

As Michael paced, he began to wonder if Sam was capable of becoming the next king of the jungle. He always knew he had the heart. Sam was a killer. Not only that, but he killed without reason. The thing that kept Michael in doubt was if Sam had enough brains and patience to deal with making future decisions. Was he capable of making his enemies bow down to his rule? All this had to be done with finesse, and Sam was lacking in that area.

If anything happened to Sam after he quit, Michael would feel responsible for letting him continue. But as Sam had put it, he was a ‘grown-ass' man. So Michael decided to let Sam be his own man.

Michael placed his call to Frank.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Frank, it's Mike.”

“Hold on a minute. Where you at?”

“I'm at home.”

“Is your line clear?”

“Yeah, it's clear.”

“Give me five minutes. I'll call you back.”

Frank never talked business on his phone. He'd always go to a phone booth and place long distance calls on his bogus calling card.

“Hello?” Michael answered.

“It's Frank. What's the problem?”

“What makes you think there's a problem?” Michael asked.

“Well, first of all, you don't call me during this time of the day unless you're on your way up. Also, I know you can't be finished with everything that fast. And you never call me from your home phone.”

“Yeah, you're right, but there ain't no problem. I just need to talk to you about a few things.”

“If it's about Big Luke coming back and you wanting to continue on, I can't do that. I only deal with you in his absence.”

“I understand that, but this ain't got nothing to do with Luke.”

“Then talk, Mike. Time is money.”

“Well, you know I'm quitting in a few months, and Luke won't be coming home for at least another six months, which leaves the city four months without some good shit.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Well, my partner, Sam, ain't tryna quit. He wants you to continue moving—”

“Now hold on, Mike. Let me refresh your memory. When we first met, I told you that I only wanted to deal with you and only you.”

“I know that, but this is my man, my partner. We're in this shit together.”

“I know how you feel about your man and all, but I stick to my word. Do you remember when I told you the only reason why I stay in this game alive and outta jail?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Do you really?”

“Yeah.”

“What did I say then?”

“You said the only reason you stay alive and outta jail is because you don't go back on your word.”

“Now I've been doing this shit for almost thirty years, and I've never broken my own rules.”

“I understand, and still I respect your decision. Although I'm a little fucked up about it.”

“Don't be, Mike. Now if you want to cop for him, you can do that. But I ain't doing no business with him personally. And no offense, Mike, but your partner gives me the creeps.”

“That's just the way he looks. If you took the time to really know him—”

“Sorry, I can't do it.”

“I understand.”

“Good then. I'll talk to you later.”

“Okay, but if you change your—”

“Don't even try it. Nothing could ever change my mind.”

 
 

Chapter 10

-KING OF THE JUNGLE-

 

 

t eight thirty that night, Black Sam and Gerald began to collect the profits for the day. Sam showed Gerald everything there was to know about the business while still trying to persuade Gerald to take him up on his offer. At the first three strips they collected over a hundred thousand dollars.

“See Gerald, look at this money. This money only comes from three strips, and we still got five more to go. You mean to tell me you wanna give this up?”

Gerald didn't answer because he knew his answer would be offensive. Instead, he stayed quiet. His plan was not to let Sam know how he felt until they got back to Mike's apartment. Then he would expose Sam's deep hatred to Mike.

“Nigga, are you deaf? You hear me talking to you?”

“Yeah, Sam, I hear you, but I'm in another world right now.”

“Well, nigga, you need to jump your ass back into reality.”

They picked up the rest of the money from the remaining strips and left Wahler Place for last. All together they collected two hundred sixty-five thousand dollars.

“Where is your car parked?” Sam asked Gerald.

“Around back on Wahler Place.”

“Good. After we collect from Kojack, you can take the money to Mike. I gotta go uptown for a minute, but I'll be back through.”

“Okay.”

Sam didn't pull up on Wahler Place. Instead, he drove around back and parked next to Gerald's car. The moment they parked, Gerald was happy. This was their last pick up and soon he would meet back up with Mike and expose Sam's greed. Gerald then got out, jumped in his car, and started the ignition. He felt uneasy and couldn't wait for their last pick up.

“Stay here with the money. I'll go up and collect from Kojack,” Sam said. He left Gerald sitting in his car while he walked up to Kojack's stash house to collect. Once Kojack answered the door, Sam held his hand out and asked, “Ay, Kojack, you got that ready?”

“Yeah, but ain't Gerald supposed to pick it up?”

“Yeah, but he's running late. So give it to me, and when he comes past, tell 'im I said next time have his ass up here before nine o'clock.”

“A'ight. Look, this is seventy thousand. I ain't finished the rest. I got like a hundred more bundles.”

“Well, Kojack, this is your lucky day. You can keep the bundles.”

“Get the fuck outta here, Sam! You mean to tell me you're giving something away?”

“Yeah nigga, and in the future, I got plans for you.”

“Yeah well, I hope it ain't the same plans you had for Skinny Pimp,” Kojack replied.

“Nah, it ain't that. If so, that would've happened a long time ago.”

Sam went back to where Gerald was waiting and put the money in the gym bag along with the rest of the money. While Gerald sat in his brand-new 300ZX, Black Sam walked over to Gerald's car with the bag of money with his snub .44 caliber revolver behind his back.

“Ay Gerald?”

“What's up, Sam?”

“Look, slim, this the last time I'm a make my offer to you before you go over to Mike's. Now, you wanna get down with me or what?”

Gerald looked Sam directly in his eyes. “Nah, I'm a take Mike's advice and get an easy mil', then step off.”

Sam eased his gun from around his back and placed it in the middle of Gerald's forehead. “Sorry Gerald, but that wasn't the answer I was looking for.”

Boom!Boom!

Gerald's head jerked back and then bounced off the headrest of his car before falling forward onto the steering wheel.

Sam put the money in his car and drove off, leaving Gerald slumped with his head pressing against the horn of his car. The long drawn out sound echoed throughout the entire block. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep . . .

An hour later at 9:30 p.m., Black Sam rang the door buzzer. After looking through the peephole, Connie opened the door dressed in her new Gucci outfit that Michael had brought back from Las Vegas.

“Hi Sam.”

“Hey Connie.” Sam kissed her on the cheek. “You look nice. Going somewhere tonight?”

“Yeah, if your friend would hurry his butt up.”

Michael came from the back dressed in his Armani suit and draped in his most prized jewels.

“Damn, nigga. You killin' 'em. Where are y'all going tonight?”

“Down Constitution Hall to see Patti LaBelle and Frankie Beverly.”

“Damn, ain't nobody tell me.”

“Cut that shit out, Sam. Nigga, I asked your ass a long time ago was you tryna go.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I still don't remember. And what's that you're wearing?”

“Giorgio Armani.”

“Damn, you're wearing that muthafucka, too. Is that the bracelet that's supposed to have come from Italy?”

“Yeah, this is it.”

“How much you pay for that?” Sam asked.

“About two hundred thou',” Michael replied.

“And you're pitching a bitch 'cause I gamble? But you're walking around with a nigga's house on your arm.”

“Yeah, but if I want, I can always take this back and get my full value from it. Can you go uptown and ask one of them niggas for your money back?”

“Nah, I'm afraid you got me on that one,” Sam replied. He clenched his teeth firmly to curtail his anger.

“Where's Gerald? Wasn't he supposed to be here dropping off?”

“This bitch kept paging him. He was with me for a while, so I told him I would make the drop for him.”

“You shouldn't have made his first day that easy, Sam.”

“Don't worry 'bout it. He knows how everything runs. Believe me.”

“Hey baby!” Connie yelled for Michael. “It'll be time to go soon. Are you almost ready?”

“I'll be ready in a little while. Just give me a few minutes with Sam.”

“Okay. Just let me know when you two are done.” Connie hoped those few minutes didn't turn into sixty minutes. She didn't want to miss any of the concert. Connie grinned, happy that soon these business meetings would be a thing of the past.

 

* * * * * * *

Connie closed the bedroom door and dialed Linda's number.

“Hello? Linda speaking. May I help you?”

“Yeah, you can start by not answering your phone like a secretary.”

“Shut up, Connie. What you want anyway?”

“I'm just checking up on my baby while my husband is finishing up with his business in the living room.”

“Damn, Connie, he got you shacked up in that room while he's out there entertaining company?”

“Yeah, but it's cool, 'cause we getting our house next month and all this shit will be over.”

“I'm so happy for you. You got a husband that got everything—money, respect, style, and enough sense to know when to quit.”

“Yeah, thanks to you. If you wouldn't have made me go to that homecoming at Ballou High, I would have never met my baby.”

“Yeah, I know. So when he gives you that first million-dollar shopping spree, your ass better not forget me.”

“Hold on for a minute,” Connie said, becoming silent for a few moments. “Okay, I'm back. I thought I heard them in there arguing.”

“Who's in your house?”

“Black-ass Sam. Him and Mike go through the same routine every night, and tonight ain't the night, 'cause I'm ready to see Patti.”

“I hear you, girl.”

“Where's Malik?”

“He's playing cards with Butter,” Linda replied.

“Tell Butter don't be teaching my son how to gamble.”

“Shut up, Connie. Ain't nobody gonna turn your baby into a gangsta. Besides, that shit runs in his blood. His daddy is the biggest gangsta in Southeast.”

“Yeah, but Malik doesn't know that.”

“You think he doesn't?”

 

* * * * * * *

Mike and Sam got right down to business.

“Have a seat, Sam. You want a drink?”

“Nah, I'm cool. Let's just get all this out the way before we talk.”

“How much did you pick up all together?”

“We got like three hundred ten thousand.”

“Damn, shit must be lovely out there.”

“It could be better. Now, how much you say was in them suitcases?”

“We got like 3.6 mil', plus the three hundred you got. We're only a hundred thousand from four million. Plus, we got two kilos left.”

“Did you call Frank and talk to him 'bout our plans?”

“Yeah, I talked to him, but the man ain't tryna do it.”

“What you mean he ‘ain't tryna do it'?”

“Like I said, I called him earlier. I even tried to plead with the nigga, but he won't break. He says he only deals with me and that he doesn't want to deal with you.”

“Why'd he say that? I ain't done anything for him to act like that. I only met the nigga once. He doesn't even know me.” Sam looked confused and undecided, as if his friend wasn't telling him the truth.

“That's the problem, Sam. When we first met him, you showed no interest.”