Street Pharm (15 page)

One day, when I had a decent job to cover me, I’d live in a building like this. I’d be in the penthouse.

Getting off on the nineteenth floor, I knocked on Jimmy’s
door. I heard movement inside, but a long time passed before the door opened.

Jimmy peered around the door with bloodshot eyes. He looked scary. “Fuck, man, I’m glad to see you. You’re saving my fucking life.”

“Y’ all right, Jimmy?”

“No. I’m in hell. Come in.”

I walked in. “What’s going on? Looks like a tornado ripped through this place.”

“I’m trying to get my stuff together. I have to move.” He sat down on the couch. From the look and smell of him, he hadn’t changed his clothes or showered in days. “Sit down. Talk to me, Johnson. I’d get you a beer, but the fridge is empty.”

“I can’t stay, I got another delivery. Where’s your girlfriend?” I couldn’t for the life of me remember her name.

“Bitch is gone. Doesn’t matter. Let’s do a hit.”

“You got the dough?”

Jimmy looked up at me, and for a crazy second I thought he was gonna cry. “Listen, Johnson, I don’t have it this time. I lost my job. They found out I was selling. Said they wouldn’t press charges if I went quietly. They don’t need half the firm’s habit exposed in the papers.”

“Shit. Sorry, man.” I almost asked what he was gonna do now,
but I held back. That wasn’t my business. Orlando always warned me not to make a customer’s personal life my business.

“Lend me twenty grand worth and I’ll sell it.” He was wringing his hands. “I still got my customers. I promise I can sell it.”

“Sorry, Jimmy. I can’t give you the stuff without the cash. It’s policy. I gotta go.” I stood up and headed for the door. He followed me into the hallway, where I pushed for the elevator.

“You gotta be kidding me, Johnson! After all I done for you, it’s, ‘Tough luck, man, go fuck yourself’? Please gimme a chance.”

“I can’t.” Tick tick tick. Where the hell was the elevator?

“Then gimme a hit. Just to get me through the night. Please.”

“The last thing you need right now is coke, Jimmy.”

“Oh, c’mon, Johnson.” He grabbed my arm. “You’ve gotta help me out.”

I smelled how desperate he was. I knew what he was thinking—if he landed a few quick punches, maybe it would give him the chance to grab the coke and run.

I stared him down, letting him know without words that he didn’t have a chance. Then I looked at his hand. “Back off.”

His hand dropped. The elevator came. I got on.

“Ty, I’m begging you.”

But he didn’t stop the doors from closing.

I sucked in a breath, staring at the numbers as the elevator went
down. I never would’ve thought that would happen to Jimmy. Never.

I passed a hand over my sweaty forehead.

You did the right thing,
I told myself.

You did the right thing.

O
ver the next few days I kept in close contact with Ronnie, who was tracking Darkman’s movements. Any day now he’d call to tell me the job was about to be done. I already decided that my alibi would be playing pool with homies.

And then I got a call that changed everything.

“Ty, it’s Monfrey. You wouldn’t believe all the shit going down.”

“What’s happening?”

“I caught Crow and Leanne in bed. Nigga, you should’ve seen it. They was begging me not to tell Kevin. Begging me! I said, what’s in it for me? They said cash. Said they been planning to clean Kevin out and bounce.”

“They
told
you this? How’d they know they could trust you?”

“They got no choice. If I snitch about finding them in bed, Kevin would kill them, anyway. Ty, they wanna bring Kevin down as bad as we do. I think we can make a deal.”

“Monfrey, I’m relying on your instincts here. Do they really want to see him lose everything?”

“They hate his guts. Trust me. Let me set up a meeting. You’ll see for yourself.”

“Do it, then. Set it up.”

*  *  *

The meeting was the same day at four. In the meantime I called Ronnie’s cell. The voice mail picked up. “Ronnie, yo, I just wanted to say, don’t make a move yet. Hold off, I’m working on something. I’ll get back to you.”

I showed up at the Promenade by the Brooklyn Bridge at two minutes to four. Too wired to sit down, I shoved my hands in my pockets and walked. I left my jacket open so I could feel the cold wind.

I saw Monfrey coming up the block. With his nappy Afro, he was hard to miss. He was with a man and a woman. I walked in their direction, keeping my head up and my eyes on them. I wanted them to pick up on my confidence.

When they got closer, Monfrey waved. I nodded back.

Crow was tall and skinny, with long dreadlocks in a ponytail. Leanne wore a fur coat and stiletto heels.

Monfrey introduced, “Crow, Leanne, this is Ty.”

“You look young,” Leanne said.

I looked her straight in the eye. “You got nothing to worry about.”

Crow said, “Monfrey here tells us you might be interested in working out a strategy to bring Kevin King down.”

“Tell me what you got in mind,” I said.

“The way we see it, we all got the same problem:
Kevin.
We wanna see him locked up.”

“So you’ll help set him up?”

Crow nodded. “We can get him picked up with a trunk full of rock. Enough to bring him down for fifteen years at least.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” I said.
Almost too good to be true.
“So why do you need me?”

Leanne said, “We deliver Kevin, and you help us out.”

“How much?”

She cracked her gum. “It ain’t money we need. We’ll clean out Kevin’s accounts just before he gets arrested. We want a slice of Brooklyn.
Your
Brooklyn.” She looked at Crow, who nodded for her to keep going. “We know you got a few customers in Bed-Stuy and Brownsville, but you don’t do most of your business there. We
want you to give us those customers, and put the word out that we got the best shit in the hood.”

Crow went on, “We been thinking, you ain’t doing too much business in those areas, probably ’cause you don’t wanna spread yourself too thin. If you give up that territory, we won’t cause you no problems. We ain’t over-ambitious people. But we want to live well, and we can do that if you cut us this deal.”

“It ain’t just about spreading myself too thin,” I said. “Crips are in control of most of those hoods. You heard of Trigger?”

Crow nodded. “Leader of the Brownsville Crips. Kevin been trying to get Trigger to help him put you out of business for months, but Trigger won’t do it. He says your family is Honorary Crip.”

I also had peeps who called me Honorary Blood, but I kept that on the down-low. Though Crow wasn’t rocking colors right now, I knew that Kevin and his gang were true blue.

“Me and Trigger, we cool,” I said. “If I wanted to give up my territory to you, he’d have nothing to say about it. But if you wanted to expand onto his turf, that’s between you and him.”

“I got you,” Crow said. “So you like our offer?”

“I’ll think about it,” I said.

“Okay, but don’t take too long. We’re getting a shipment in three days—it’d be a perfect setup.”

“What about the other guys who work for him? They loyal?”

“Only because they gotta be,” Crow answered. “Kevin don’t take care of his people, he don’t treat them with respect.”

Leanne said, “You know why he left Miami? He couldn’t stand being the youngest son with the smallest cut in his brothers’ business. He started stealing cash from them, cheating his own brothers! When they found out, they told him to pack his bags. So instead of crawling into a hole, he come up here thinking he gonna be big-time.”

“He pays his men shit because he says he ain’t got no money, but that’s bullshit,” Crow added.

Leanne lifted her chin. “I know what he got in the bank. I know his PIN, I know everything. His money will keep us living real nice for a while.”

“You gonna let us know if it’s a go?” Crow said.

“I made up my mind,” I said. “It’s a go.”

*  *  *

When the meeting was over, I called Ronnie again. This time he picked up.

“Ronnie? It’s me, Ty.”

“Ty, now what’s this about stalling? What’s the problem?”

“I don’t need you anymore. But keep the money I gave you for your time.”

“You don’t need me? Now why’s that?”

“I found a better way to take him down.”

“Like what?”

“The cops are gonna do it for free.”

“Don’t tell me you working with the po-po.”

“I ain’t. But Kevin King’s gonna get set up good.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’d be stupid not to go with it. I know you gone to a lot of trouble. Like I said, keep the five grand.”

“A’ight. Watch yourself. And if you need me, call.”

“Thanks, Ronnie.”

I hung up, then speed-dialed Sonny.

He answered, “What up?”

“We gotta talk. There’s been a change of plan. Can you meet me at La Tranquilla?”

“You got it.”

I grabbed a yellow cab.

Half an hour later, I met Sonny in front of the restaurant.

“You look good, son,” he said. “You recovering mad quick.”

“Thanks. I can see you put on a few pounds yourself. Thanksgiving turkey?”

“Nah, it’s all muscle.” Sonny touched a bicep, proud.

“You been using that new protein powder I showed you?”

“Damn straight. It don’t taste too bad with o.j. But all those eggs, boy”—he made a face—“they make me burp nasty.”

“You’ll get used to it. You wanna bulk up, you need a shitload of protein.”

When we walked into the restaurant, we were greeted by the hostess Jeanine and a roomful of stares. Even the black couple gave us
What you doing here?
looks.

As she led us to our table, I nudged Sonny. “Why don’t we get us dinner jackets sometime? Pretend we big-shot lawyers or something.”

“That wouldn’t be no fun! I like to see the look on their faces. They be wondering why we ain’t at McDonald’s.”

We sat down, and Sonny leaned over the table. “So what’s this about a change of plan?”

“Let’s order first. I don’t wanna get interrupted.”

Sonny opened the menu and looked it over like he ain’t seen it a dozen times before.

The waiter came up. “Good evening. Have you had a chance to peruse our wine selection, sirs?” I couldn’t tell if he was gay or just British. Maybe both.

Sonny answered, “Being traditional guys, we’ll go for Dom Pérignon. We celebrating my boy Ty’s good health.”

“Indeed? Good health is always a cause for celebration.”

Sonny nodded. “Not just anybody gets shot twice in a drive-by and lives to tell about it.”

It was worth it just to see the shock on the waiter’s face. “Oh—oh dear.”

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

“I have a question for you,” Sonny said to the waiter. “Which of these got the most protein? As you can see, I’m a brotha who cares about his physique. You can tell, right?”

“Undoubtedly.”

“So which one: the salmon, the chicken parm, the filet mignon, or the penne with sausage?”

The waiter answered, “All of those dishes have plenty of protein, sir, so you should ask your palate for its preference.”

“Just gimme the filet mignon, then.”

“Excellent.” The waiter turned to me. “And for you, sir?”

“I’ll have the baked salmon.”

The waiter came back soon after with the champagne.

I sipped it slow. “As I said, there’s been a change of plan. We ain’t hiring that guy no more.”

Sonny almost choked on his Dom Pérignon. “The hell you talking about?”

“I got a better way to deal with Darkman.”

“Like what?”

I explained that we now had an alliance with Crow and Leanne, and a plan to set Darkman up.

“Man, he tried to
kill you.
An eye for an eye, you know! Orlando said it himself!”

“This ain’t Orlando’s decision.”

“Right. It’s ours, and
you
made it by yourself. And you got me wondering, what are Crow and Leanne getting outta all this? You promise them something?”

“A few customers in Bed-Stuy and Brownsville, that’s all.”

“What?”

“Hey, keep it down.”

“I don’t get you, man. From the start of this Darkman shit, you was always stalling to do what you gotta do. You said you had a plan, and where did that get you? Shot. And now, when we about to finish this thing once and for all, you backing out!”

“I think it’s a better plan. What if Ronnie gets caught and gives up my name? I don’t wanna risk that.”

“That’s bullshit. Your daddy,
he
always did what he had to do.”

“And he also landed his ass in jail. You lucky he didn’t land
your
ass in jail too.”

Sonny was shaking his head. “Man, I used to think you was smarter than him. But now, when I look at how you been dealing with Darkman, I think you just scared.”

“Scared? I took two bullets and I’m still on top of my game. I ain’t scared, but I’m tryna be smart. Why risk snuffing someone if you don’t have to?”

“What do you think Orlando’s gonna say when you tell him you cut this deal?”

“I ain’t telling him yet. He’ll find out after it’s all gone down.”

“He’s gonna flip out when he hears that you gave up territory. You got no right making a deal like that.”

“C’mon, we weren’t planning on doing much in those hoods. Not with Trigger’s Crips there.”

“That ain’t my point. My point is that we partners, and you shouldn’t have made that decision without me. Especially a decision that could land you on a slab.”

“I ain’t going down from Darkman’s bullets. My plan will work, I promise you.”

“It better. ’Cause in this deal, you on your own.”

A
t this time of year, most guys my age were counting down to the Christmas holidays.

I was counting down to Judgment Day, the day of Darkman’s downfall.

The night before Judgment Day I met with Monfrey and Crow. Leanne was at a Nets game with Darkman.

The meeting place was the top level of an East Village café. I bought coffee and went upstairs to the lounge. The atmosphere was totally pimp, with red velvet furniture and low lighting. Hip-hop tunes spun in the background, just loud enough to cover our conversation.