On The Grind

Chapter 38

Real had more ticks than a sleeping hound. He jiggled his leg, he picked nervously at his shirt cuffs. When he talked, his hands flew around over the table like a guy conducting an orchestra. His eyebrows kept flicking up and down maniacally. If I didn't know his rep, I wouldn't have believed this speed freak could be the mayor's number one political assistant.

"I talked to C. B. He tells me you already know what needs to be done," Carlos said.

"Yeah. I'm down."

"We've recently discovered we have some serious timetable restrictions." He lowered his voice. His fingers now drummed relentlessly on the tabletop. "We have several phone taps on the target. Because of what we've recently learned, we gotta pull everything way up."

"Okay," I said, "as long as it doesn't get stupid, I'm flexible."

"The individual in question needs to go tonight."

"Tonight? What's the big rush?" I asked.

"We just learned that there are several people who have decided to involve themselves in his safety-people who have proven skills."

"I thought you guys controlled the gangs," I said.

"Not gangs. Marines from Camp Pendleton. Mexican guys. The target has an uncle who's on extended leave from Iraq. His tio recruited some Force Recon guys from the base. They're arriving tomorrow and plan to be with your man day and night until after the election."

I couldn't help but wonder if the Marines might be Agent Love's doing.

"If we go tonight, are you still up for this?" Carlos asked. He had suddenly developed a tic at the corner of his right eye.

"We haven't discussed price. The mayor said it was a paying job." I wanted to lock in a premeditated murder-for-hire solicitation.

"I asked around up in L. A. I believe ten thousand is a good number," he said, quoting the exact price from my Sammy from Miami meeting.

"That works."

Carlos put a brown paper bag on the table. It didn't look like money, so I laid my hand on top of it. I could instantly feel the contours of a small automatic under my palm.

"It's a six-shot Para Covert Carry with a three-inch barrel," he said, as his eyebrows did a little jig. "It's nontraceable, so drop it at the scene. Alonzo and Horace will cover you."

"I want the cash up front."

"Half now. Half when the job is done." Real pulled a fat envelope out of his pocket and slid it across the table. "That's five," he said. "The rest comes after proof of death. We good?" Twitching and jerking like a hooked flounder.

"We're good."

He slid out of the booth without another word and disappeared into the throng, leaving behind a cold street gun, five thousand dollars and the smell of cheap cologne.

"I hope this money isn't part of our cafeteria policing deal," I said. "I'd hate to pass half of it back up to the same guy who just gave it to me."

"All yours," Alonzo said.

He looked at his watch. "Okay, we got a tight timetable if we're gonna get this done tonight. Let's go."

Once Horace, Alonzo and I were outside, I stopped them.

"I need to hear how you guys think this is gonna work," I said.

"Rocky's gonna give a campaign speech tonight at a rally over in Municipal Park in Vista," Alonzo answered. "We wouldn't give him a rally permit for Haven Park or Fleetwood, so he's doing it over there. It's at ten o'clock. According to one of the phone taps we got on him, after the speech he's gonna visit his new girlfriend, that lawyer bitch we met at the jail three days ago. Rocky's got a secret fuck pad somewhere over in Fleetwood. We don't know where it is yet so we need to go to the rally, and once it breaks up we follow him to the tuna. That's where you do the job."

"I just shoot him? That doesn't sound too sharp. The guy's very popular. We need a good reason for the murder or this will never be off the six o'clock news. We need an old enemy or something."

"Rocky's got a lot of jealous girlfriends," Alonzo said. "We stage it to look like he got shot by this abogada, this Carmen Ramirez person. The story is she shot him, then shot herself, because he wouldn't stop seeing that reporter, Anita Juarez. A classic taco triangle. You leave the gun in the dead bitch's hand. It goes into the books as a murder-suicide."

"Thats still a tad loose, guys. What about forcnsics? Blood splatter? My hair and fiber?"

"None a that shit matters," Alonzo said. "After you shoot him, you call a guy I got waiting by a phone. He'll make the 911 call in Spanish. Since you're gonna be the first blue on the scene, your hair and fiber aren't a problem. After the department puts out the shots-fired call, you grab it, then ask for backup. Me and Horace roger that. We all work the case together. Talbot Jones will handle the one-eighty-seven investigation. It's gonna go down the way we want and get booked exactly the way we say 'cause we're the ones working the crime scene."

"It's starting to sound a little better," I said.

"Good. Now get in the Escalade."

I climbed in and Horace piled in behind me. Alonzo pulled out of the parking lot and headed back into Haven Park.

"I thought you said the rally was in Vista," I said. "We're going the wrong way."

"Gotta stop at the station first."

"How come?"

"Before you do this, you've gotta take a polygraph."