Free Fall

CHAPTER 16

When I got to my office at five minutes past one, there was a message on my machine from James Edward Washington, asking me to call. I did.

James Edward said, "You know a taco stand called Raul's on Sixty-five and Broadway?"

"No."

"Sixty-five and Broadway. I'm gonna be there in an hour with a guy who knows about what's going on. Ray came through."

"I'll meet you there."

I hung up, then called Joe Pike. He answered on the first ring. "Pike."

"I'm going to meet James Edward Washington at a place called Raul's on Sixty-five and Broadway in about one hour. He says he's got a guy who maybe knows something."

"I'll be there."

"There's more." I told him about the Lester Corporation and Harold Bellis and the contract with Atlas Security. I told him about the video equipment.

Pike grunted. "So Akeem D'Muere saw what happened to Charles Lewis."

"It's possible."

"And maybe it shows something different than the police report claims."

"Yeah. But if that's the case, why doesn't Akeem use it to fry these guys? Why is he protecting them?"

Pike fell silent.

"Joe?"

"Watch your ass out there, Elvis. It's getting too hot for these guys to sit by. They're going to have to move."

"Maybe that's how we finally crack this. Maybe we make it so hot that they've got to move, and when they move we'll see what they're doing."

"Maybe. But maybe their idea of a move is to take us out."

Nothing like a little inspiration.

Thirty-two minutes later I exited the freeway and turned north on Broadway past auto repair shops and take-out rib joints and liquor stores that had been looted in the riots and not yet rebuilt.

Raul's Taco was a cinderblock stand on the west side of Broadway between a service drive and an auto parts place that specialized in remanufactured transmissions. You ordered at a little screen window on one side of the stand, then you went around to the other side to wait for your food. There was a tiny fenced area by the pick-up window with a couple of picnic benches for your more elegant sit-down diners and a couple of little stand-up tables on the sidewalk for people in a rush. A large sign over the order window said WE HAVE SOUL-MAN TACOS. An hour before noon and the place was packed.

I drove up to Sixty-fourth, pulled a U-turn at the light, then swung back and parked at the curb in front of the transmission place. James Edward Washington and a young black guy maybe Washington's age were sitting across from each other at one of the picnic tables, eating tacos. The second guy was wearing a neon orange hat with the bill pointed backwards, heavy Ray-Ban sunglasses, and a black Los Angeles Raiders windbreaker even though it was ninety degrees. Washington saw me and nodded toward the table. The other guy saw him nod and turned to watch me come over. He didn't look happy. Most of the other people in Raul's were watching me, too. Guess they didn't get many white customers. Washington said, 'This is the guy Ray was talking about. Cool T, this is the detective."

Cool T said, "You say his name Elvis I thought he a brother."

I said, "I am. Amazing what a marcel and skin lightener will do, isn't it?"

Cool T shook his head and gave disgusted. "And he think he funny, too."

Cool T started to get up but Washington put a hand on his forearm and held him down. "He's white, but he's trying to help about Lewis. That means he can be all the funny he wants."

Cool T shrugged without looking at me. Aloof.

Washington took a taco wrapped in yellow paper out of the box and offered it to me. He said, "This is a Soul-Man taco. These Mexicans grill up the meat and the peppers and put barbecue sauce on it. You like barbecue?"

"Sure." I unwrapped the taco. The paper was soaked through with oil and barbecue sauce, but it smelled like a handful of heaven. The taco was two handmade corn tortillas deep-fried to hold their shape, and filled with meat and chili peppers and the barbecue sauce. The sauce was chunky with big rings of jalapeño and serrano peppers.

Cool T finished off the rest of his taco, then pointed out the peppers. "It's pretty hot, you ain't used to it. They probably make one without the peppers, you ask." He was showing a lot of teeth when he said it.

I took a bite, and then I took a second. It was delicious, but it wasn't very hot. I said, "You think they'd give me more peppers?"

Cool T stopped snowing the teeth and went sullen. Shown up by the white man.

Washington said, "Cool T's been living on these streets while I've been swabbing decks. He's seen what's going on."

Cool T nodded.

"Okay. So what's Cool T know?" I finished my taco and eyed the box lustily. There were three more tacos in it. Washington made a little hand move that said help yourself. I did.

Cool T said, "Those cops ain't cops no mo'. They just passin'."

"What's that mean?"

"Mean they in business and they use the Eight-Deuce as what we call sales representatives." He grinned when he said it.

I looked at Washington. "Is this for real?"

Washington shrugged. "That's what his girlfriend says."

Cool T said, "I friendly with this bitch used to live with a Gangster Boy."

I said, "Are you telling me that these officers are in the crack trade?"

Cool T nodded. "They in the everything trade. Whatever the Eight-Deuce in, they in." He selected another taco. "Ain't been an Eight-Deuce home boy locked down in four or five months. Pigs take off the Rolling Sixties and the Eight-Trey Swans and all these other nigguhs, but not the Eight-Deuce. They look out for each other. They share the wealth."

"The cops and the Eight-Deuce Gangster Boys."

"Uh-hunh. They in business together." He finished the taco and licked his fingers. "Eight-Deuce point out the competition and the cops take it down. You wanna see it happen, I can put you onto something."

"What?"

Cool T said. "Nigguh been sellin' dope out a ice cream truck over by Witley Park He at the park every Thursday and the park in Eight-Deuce turf and they tired of it. The cops going over there today to run him off."

Washington said, "I figured we could go over there and see what's what. I figure if it's our guys, maybe we can do something with it."

I was liking Washington just fine. "Okay."

Cool T said, "Not me. Anybody see me over there and something happen, I be meetin' up with Mr. Drive-By."

Cool T stood up. Washington held out his fist and Cool T brushed his own fist against it, back and top and sides, and then he walked away.

I looked at Washington. Well, well. "You did okay."

Washington nodded. Cool.