Deadly Assets

VI
[ONE]

Word of Brotherly Love Ministry

Strawberry Mansion, Philadelphia

Saturday, December 15, 3:01 P.M.

“Hold on for a minute, Rapp,” the Reverend Josiah Cross said into the cordless telephone handset, then motioned with it to get the attention of the heavyset male wearing the yellow WarnaBrotha T-shirt. “Deacon DiAndre, come back here!”

Hearing his name, twenty-five-year-old DiAndre Pringle, who was five-foot-four and one-sixty and had big brown eyes that seemed to slowly scan his surroundings and take in everything, looked up from his tablet computer, nodded acknowledgment, then walked toward Cross as his big eyes dropped back to the device and he rapidly typed on its glass screen.

The large main room, featuring gold-and-black-patterned wallpaper and red-painted trim, was filled with more than two hundred brown folding metal chairs. They formed two dozen rows arranged at an angle and separated in the middle by a wide aisle that went from the red front door to almost the far wall. There, a crucifix crafted of rough-hewn timber hung on the wall above a vacant area that an hour before had held the black wooden cubes and the lectern and speakers that now were outside on the sidewalk.

A series of more black cubes were arranged to one side, stacked to form two tiers, with five brown folding chairs lined up on each level to accommodate members of the choir. On the wallpaper just above the highest chairs, the outlines of lettering that had been pried off spelled out a faded BUFFET.

Pringle approached Cross, who stood beside a flight of wooden steps that led to the upper two floors. Two young men carried cardboard boxes down them, then went to the front door and out it.

“What up with the numbers, DiAndre?” Cross said.

Pringle held up the tablet computer for Cross to see, then tapped the glass screen and pointed to it.

“I just sent out another call to action to a new group in Frankford that’s got about three hundred people,” Pringle said. “But look here, Rev. There’s five thousand two hundred and forty-one-and still climbing pretty quick-thumbs-up Liberty Bells for the Stop Killadelphia Rally. If we get half that many people to show up, just that’ll be some crowd.”

“What’s this call to action thing you said?”

“When I go on Philly News Now-you know, its social media site? — I can reach all kinds of people around the city. Who these people are and how many of them are in whatever group depends on what their interests are.”

“Like that star one for my ministry here, right?”

“Right. Our asterisk-Word of Brotherly Love has almost a thousand followers. That ain’t a bad number, ’cause their interest is this church and this neighborhood.”

“What do you mean by that?” Cross snapped.

“Nothing bad, Rev. I mean it’s just a limited group. You want some crazy serious numbers? Try being the Pope.”

Cross narrowed his eyes and looked ready to snap again.

That wasn’t lost on Pringle, who tried to recover with: “The good news is that almost all of your followers gave a thumbs-up to the rally. I’d bet it’s a pretty good chance that they will be here.”

“And you’ve got one of these star things for the turkey day, right?”

Pringle tapped the glass of the tablet computer.

“Here’s asterisk-Feed Philly Day,” Pringle said.

“Three thousand thumbs-up bells?” Cross said, then wondered aloud, “Jesus, are we gonna have enough food?”

Pringle shrugged. “Don’t know about that. Need to find out, ’cause all of these here followers checked the box that they were coming for the meal. Who knows how many others are just going to show up? And there were more than a thousand boxes checked for a frozen turkey.”

“Jesus!” Cross muttered.

“Ain’t saying ‘Jesus’ a sacrilege, Rev?”

“Look, son,” Cross snapped, then faintly heard his name being called repeatedly and realized it was coming from the cordless telephone handset he’d forgotten he still held.

“Keep getting more people for the rally,” Cross ordered Pringle while pointing to the tablet computer, then put the handset to his ear.

Cross watched Pringle disappear up the steps to the second floor as he said, “Sorry about that, Rapp. Look, I’m glad you called. You gotta get me that check today.”

“What check, Lenny?” H. Rapp Badde said.

“For the frozen turkey guy. I’ve got a lot of hungry folks saying they’re coming. We may have to order extra birds. But he said he’s still waiting for his money, up front. And said he’s got other buyers if we don’t come through.”

“He’s bluffing. He’s probably still pissed you bounced that last check,” Badde said, then added, “I thought you had the rental truck?”

“What about it?”

“What’s in it?”

“What’s on it is the banner saying turkey day is Monday. And saying it’s sponsored by you.”

“But what’s in the truck? No turkeys?”

“I told you we get them Monday. If you get me that check. You really don’t think I’d leave a truck full of frozen turkeys out there, do you? They’d be stolen in no time. Hell, the truck, too. We parked it here for the rally, so the news cameras can show it in the background. Right now it’s got posters and boxes of T-shirts for the rally.”

There was a moment’s pause before Badde then said, “Look, Lenny, about that rally. I didn’t call about the turkeys. What the hell is this about you calling that cop Payne a murderer?”

“What? You called about that? Well, I did. Because he did. He is.”

“Jesus! You can’t do that.”

“He’s Public Enemy Number One, Rapp,” Cross said, his tone self-righteous.

“Lenny, damn it! Don’t do it again! It’s not helping the situation.”

“Situation? What situation?”

“You’re on CPOC and now its chairman-”

“And I’m done with using that position to make a change. Now I’m using the ministry-”

“But you’re linked to CPOC.”

“Rapp, how long has CPOC been around?” Cross didn’t wait for a reply. “Fifteen, twenty years? A long damn time. And what’s it ever done? Not one damn thing, that’s what. Every member on CPOC is frustrated. I’m just the only one speaking up.”

“Why, Lenny?”

“Because there’s pretty much been a murder a day forever. It was Killadelphia then, and it’s Killadelphia now. And it’s mostly brothers. You get what I’m saying?”

Badde sighed. “I’m hearing you.”

“So, I don’t know why the hell you’re pissed off about this. The rally is really getting to the people. You should check out the following we’re getting on the Philly News Now link-”

“I’ve seen it. Trust me. .”

“Over five thousand viewers have given it one of those bell thumb things. That means there’ll be a big crowd at the rally.” He paused. “It would look good if you showed up, made an appearance. Sure you can’t make it?”

“Not if you keep calling the cops killers, I can’t!”

“Whatever. Your choice.”

“I’ll be there for the turkey day. But, for now, listen to me, Lenny. I can’t make this plain enough. You are putting a lot at risk here, starting with your CPOC position.”

Cross was quiet a moment, then said, “You didn’t just say that. You really mean that? Wait. You want to know what? I really don’t care, Rapp. It’s my last year anyway.”

Badde blurted: “I meant what I said. You’re going too far, and there’s gonna be a price to pay. I’ve got Carlucci’s new guy breathing down my neck because of this, because I got you on CPOC and now you’re trashing the cops.”

“Got Carlucci’s attention? Really?” Cross said. “Then I’m onto something.”

“You’re onto something, all right. Out on your ass, Lenny!”

“Look, Rapp, I told you I don’t care-”

“No, you goddamn look, Lenny! This is not just about you! What you’re doing is putting me in a really bad light that I cannot afford. Got it?”

Cross grunted. “Is that what this is about? Putting you in a light? You’ve got your name on those construction signs all over town. You and ol’ Willie Lane. Showing folks what all you’re doing for them, just like your daddies done back in the day. But you know what, Rapp? They got put in office, and then we put you all in office, ’cause you promised things would get better.”

“And they have. .”

“Maybe better for you, Rapp! But there’s still that killing a day, and no one seems to care. There’s still good people who can’t sit on their own porch ’cause they’re afraid of crime, afraid of the gangbanging punks running the streets. I’m looking at a bunch of posters of folks-”

“Look, Lenny,” Badde interrupted, his tone frustrated, “we can talk about all this when I get there. Right here, right now, I really need you to back off. Can you give me your word that you’ll do that?”

“So you’re saying that we just stop? Just let the killings go on and on?”

“No, Lenny. I’m saying just dial it down a few notches. Go after the goddamn murders, reach out to our people. .”

Your votes, you mean, Cross thought.

“. . but just don’t go after the police. Okay? It’s important for you and for me.”

Cross, silent and in thought, stared across the room for a long moment.

“And one more thing,” Badde said. “You have to call Carlucci’s guy. Just let him know you’re not giving up on all the murders in Philly-that’s your right-but you’ll leave the police out.”

Cross was silent for another long moment.

“Lenny. .?”

“When do I get that check for the turkeys?”