Untitled (45 page)

"Yeah," said Nessa. "I know."

  Danny and Marshall left the house. Marshall looked sad, and Danny noticed it.

  "I know what you thinkin'," said Danny. "How could life give a kid to Moses and not you?"

  "I'd rather not talk about it," said Marshall.

  "He made the kid, but he's not a man," said Danny. "He's a scumbag because he's not there for the kid. And unless I miss my guess, that girl and her mama won't let Moses near his own son."

  Danny was right, but Marshall still felt bad inside. Even in his foolish irresponsibility Moses had managed to hurt him.

  "Let's go get his ass," said Marshall.

* * *

Moses walked around meeting the new men. Dake and Nita had only hired a few new people. Moses' old men were happy to see him. He had to admit that it was good to be back in the fold.

  The owner of Tybo's was an old crook named Donald Tybolski. He stayed out of their way and let them have the back half of the place.

  Wood told the new men who Moses was and what had happened. Some of them were skeptical, but they seemed to be cool about it. A hustler's biggest concern was the next hustle and how much money he was making.

  Somewhere, Nita was on a Greyhound bus on her way out of the state. Moses had almost not let her go. Wood had advised against it, but Moses could not find a reason to kill her. Dake was gone, and there had been enough death behind this whole mess.

  Since he'd come back, he discovered why Dake and Nita had not blown town. They had a big hustle coming down. One of their men had gotten inside an armored car company and persuaded his coworkers to help him pull a job. They were going to steal a truck filled with money on a currency transfer.

  Dake and Nita had set up the armored car men with passage out of the country via Toronto. It was a good hustle, and Moses thought that when it was done, he would have enough cash to get out of town for good and set up shop in another state. Maybe California. It was wide open out there, and he could do well.

* * *

Danny and Marshall watched the warehouse as night fell on the city. They would have to make a move soon. When it got dark, the streets would be filled with people who could cause them trouble.

  "We could call the cops and bust them up," said Danny.

  "Moses won't go quietly," said Marshall. "He'd go away for good this time. He'd rather die first, and I have a feeling that if I go to the authorities, that's just what will happen. Dead, he's no good to us."

  "Then how do we get to him?"

  "We don't. This one's on me," said Marshall.

  "You're kidding," said Danny.

  "No," said Marshall. "He'll respect me coming right to him."

  "He'll kill you and you know it."

  "No, he won't. He's still my brother," said Marshall.

  "He's a murderer," said Danny. "I'm your brother."

  "I don't have a choice," said Marshall.

  "If you're not out in a half hour, I come in and everybody in there is dead," said Danny.

  "If I'm not out in a half hour, you go to the cops. Don't go in there. No use in both of us getting it."

  Marshall left Danny and walked over to the warehouse. The building was a lot bigger than it looked as he got closer. The guards stopped him, and one of them, a short man with an Afro, pushed a gun into Marshall's stomach. The other was a muscular man with a thick beard.

  "Damn," said the man with the beard. "Look at his face."

  "I need to see my brother," said Marshall.

  "Get the fuck out of here," said the short guard.

  "No," said Marshall. "You can let me in, or you can kill your boss's brother. It's your choice."

  The guards shared a look, then the short one ran inside. A moment later, Wood came out and took Marshall in. At the same time, several men ran outside and spread out.

  Inside of Tybo's was dark in the front, but in the back, the place was alive with activity. Marshall walked over to his brother, who regarded Marshall as if he were back from the dead.

  "You don't wanna live, do you?" said Moses. He face held wonder and disbelief.

  "Tell me what you know about my case," said Marshall.

  Moses laughed. "My men are checking to see if you brought the cops with you. If you did, it won't be a good night for you."

  "What do you know about it?" asked Marshall. "A lot of people are dead because of the people behind all this."

  "I don't know nothing," said Moses. "I was just shittin' you."

  "Tell me who that man was. The one you helped steal the car. Give me his name and I'll leave," said Marshall.

  Moses laughed loudly. "You said that like you actually have something to deal with. This is my land. It's not yours, with all them white people and stiff-ass judges. Here, you don't deal. I make the rules."

  The warehouse door opened and Danny was brought in with three men holding guns on him.

  "No cops, Moses, but we found this," said the short guard.

  "They said they'd kill you," said Danny.

  The guards took Danny and made him sit on a crate. One of them held both of Danny's guns. Danny didn't look the least bit scared, though. But Marshall couldn't endanger his friend. He had to get him out if he could.

  "Let him go," said Marshall. "He's not in this."

  "Oh, no," said Moses. "The wigger stays here. He's a fool, but he's too dangerous."

  "I'm not leaving without the information," said Marshall.

  "Okay," said Moses. "You came a long way to find me. I respect that. I'll fight you for it."

  "What?" said Marshall.

  "You heard me," said Moses. "You kick my ass and I'll tell you what you want to know. Just like the old days." Moses walked closer to Marshall and raised his fists.

"I'm not—"

  Marshall didn't get a chance to finish. Moses threw a hook at his head and Marshall ducked it. Marshall raised his fists reflexively and threw off his coat. Moses' men cheered the fight and started to make bets.

  Moses hit him with a hard right in the chest and backed Marshall up. All the fights they'd had as kids started to come back to him. Moses wasn't being childish, he wanted to beat him, make him pay for everything he believed Marshall had done to him. If he lost, he and Danny might not ever leave the warehouse alive.

  Marshall connected a left hand to Moses' shoulder and followed with another punch that missed.

  "Is that all you got?" asked Moses. "All that high livin' done made you soft."

  Moses lunged at Marshall and hit him in the face. Marshall backed up and another blow landed in his stomach. Marshall doubled over and Moses kicked him hard in the side of the head. Marshall hit the ground. Moses tried to kick him again, but Marshall caught his foot, and yanked him off his feet. Both men scrambled to their feet. Moses faked a punch and Marshall jerked backward.

  Moses laughed at Marshall. He was enjoying this silly game in front of his criminal friends.

  Everything had come to this moment. His career, and maybe even his life, were in the hands of his brother, a man with no morals and fewer brains.

  Marshall threw a wild punch and faked slipping. Moses took the opportunity to lunge at him. Marshall turned, pivoting on his heel, and hit Moses in the face. Moses staggered and raised his hands, but Marshall was on him, throwing punch after punch that connected. Moses backed up as his brother beat him. With each punch Marshall saw Moses' face as a kid, then he saw their father and mother and the life that had fallen to ruin.

  Moses was in trouble, and he tried to run but fell down. Marshall fell on him, sitting on his chest and began to beat him mercilessly in the face. Blood flew from Moses' mouth, covering Marshall's hands and splattering his shirt. In the distance, Marshall heard Danny yelling, cheering him on. Suddenly, someone grabbed Marshall's hand.

  Marshall looked up and saw Wood holding his bloody fist in one hand, and a gun in the other. Beneath him, Moses was unconscious and bloody.

  "That's enough," said Wood.

  Marshall got up and walked away from Moses, but not before he kicked him hard in the ribs. Wood pushed Marshall away.

  "I want the information on my case," said Marshall.

  "You need to leave before he wakes up," said Wood. "When he does, he'll kill you both."

  "I'm not leaving without it," said Marshall.

  Wood walked away as two men picked up Moses and took him to a chair. Marshall smiled a little. He'd finally beaten him. Danny walked over to Marshall and put a hand on his shoulder.

  "You kick a lot of ass for a lawyer," he said. "I thought you'd lost it."

  "We have to find out what he knows," said Marshall. "If they refuse, we'll have to make a move on them."

  "You ain't said nothing but a word," said Danny. "I'm ready. If I get my hands on one gun, I'll be able to get at least two of them before they know what's going on."

  Wood came back. "I talked with some of the brothers. The man you asked about wanted us to steal a car for him. He killed one of our crew, a brother named Carlos. We tracked him to a motel he was staying at. His names was Charles, Charles Dolgen. He was a brother about forty or so. Now, go."

  "What did he look like?" asked Marshall.

  "I never saw the man," said Wood. "You could wait for your brother to come to, but I wouldn't suggest it."

  "Gimme my shit," said Danny.

  Wood nodded at another man, who tossed Danny his guns. Danny examined them and found that the bullets had been taken out.

  "By the time you go to the cops, we'll all be gone," said Wood. "So don't think about looking for us here."

  Marshall and Danny left the warehouse and got into their car.

  "Mbutu didn't kill Douglas," said Marshall.

  "Okay," said Danny. "I say we find this Dolgen dude and bust his ass."

  "Moses was probably lucky he never found this Dolgen. If this man is the assassin, he's probably a professional killer who was most likely trained by the government. You don't just go and get someone like that and hope to live."

  "Then what?" Danny looked disappointed.

  "We check him out before we make a move."

  "You mean
I
check him out."

  "I know I'm asking a lot of you on this," asked Marshall.

  "Okay," said Danny, "but I want you to do me a favor."

  "What?"

  "Start carrying your gun."

  Marshall didn't answer. He reached under the seat of his car and pulled out his gun.

  "I'm way ahead of you," he said.

M
arshall went home and parted company with Danny. Marshall had to get back to the trial. Danny's job was to find their mystery killer, Charles Dolgen.

  Marshall went inside his house and found the message light on his machine blinking. He hit the button and passed all the telemarketers and such. He stopped at a message from Chemin.

  "Hey," she said. "I'm just calling to see how you are. I heard about what happened in court. I'm sorry. I—uh—"

  Marshall's spirits lifted at her voice. And she was searching for words. That made him even happier. Chemin was not a woman who was ever at a loss for something to say. If she were calling to say she'd filed divorce papers, she'd just say it. That meant she was hiding something. Maybe she was having second thoughts.

  "I just wanted to see if you were okay. I'll call back. Bye."

  The next message was from Bob Ryder. He was frantic, and Marshall could hear Walter in the background.

  "Marshall, come to Mount Carmel hospital ASAP! Wendel Miller's been attacked. They're going in to get the bullet."

  Marshall raced from the house. He got in his car and headed for the hospital, which was located on West Outer Drive. He chastised himself for being so slow. He should have seen this coming. With the DNA evidence questionable, the only thing left was the bullets. The only good one was lodged in Wendel Miller's spine. That made him forfeit.

  Marshall got to the hospital and found Ryder, Walter, and Sommers there.

  "Where the fuck have you been?" asked Ryder.

  "I had business," said Marshall.

  "Looks like you got the business," said Sommers.

  Marshall realized that he was still banged up from his fight with Moses. He was bruised, and his clothes were torn.

  "I had a little trouble on the street. So, what happened here?"

  "Wendel Miller was accosted by two thugs at a restaurant," said Sommers. "They demanded money. When he refused, they attacked him."

  "Is that the way he told it?" asked Marshall.

  "No," said Sommers. "Miller is unconscious. We pieced that story together. All we know for sure is two men jumped him."

  "They injured his back where the bullet is," said Ryder. "The bullet moved, so the doctors have to take it out." Ryder looked almost happy about these events.

  Marshall sat down without another word. All he could do now was wait. But he already knew the outcome. The bullet the doctors were removing would match Mbutu's gun perfectly. That would put him in the crawl space and obviate the need for the DNA evidence. The killer, whoever he was, could not have meant to shoot Wendel Miller.

  "I'm leaving," said Marshall. "Take the bullet to Serrus Kranet. Leave me a message at home when the results come in."

  "It's the weekend, so we need to have a meeting before trial resumes on Monday," said Walter.

  "I'll get back with you on that," said Marshall.

  Ryder protested, but Marshall walked out. He had to get to the bottom of this before more people were hurt. Why hadn't they just killed Mbutu? he wondered. Like Oswald, he'd go to his grave with all the secrets. The answer had to lie in the real motive for killing Douglas. Mbutu needed to stay alive for some reason.