Private: #1 Suspect

CHAPTER 109

I had a clear view of the hotel’s entrance through the windows of the late Albert Singh’s room. Cops streamed into the Sun’s driveway, and sirens wailed as more sped up South Santa Monica Boulevard.

I put my hands on Jinx’s shoulders and made eye contact with her. I said, “I’ll call you as soon as I can. You’re going to be all right.”

I didn’t want to leave her, but Del Rio said he needed me urgently. I had to go.

I left the hotel by the rear exit, got my car out of the lot, and drove to Fifth Street. I found Del Rio and Cruz in a garbage-strewn alley called Werdin Place. A half block from King Eddy’s, Werdin ran between buildings and served as a parking place for owners of the businesses on the block. The shops were closed for the night, and Werdin was deserted.

Cruz greeted me at the top of the alley. Behind him, Del Rio held his gun on a forty-ish black man who was sitting on the ground, his fingers interlaced behind his neck. He was in what we called “Private custody.”

Del Rio said, “Jack, I’d like you to meet Mr. Tyson Keyes.”

Keyes didn’t look at me, kept his eyes on the heap of trash bags ten feet away.

Del Rio had filed a report after he’d talked to the bouncer from Havana. The bouncer had told Del Rio that Keyes was a felon of the violent kind and that he knew the name of the hotel john killer.

Del Rio said, “Mr. Morgan, Mr. Keyes doesn’t want to talk to us. I told him if he didn’t tell us who killed those johns, I would blow his head off, but that corporate policy dictates I get your permission first.”

I stooped down to Keyes’s level. “Mr. Keyes,” I said, “no one will call in shots coming from this location. You know that. And here’s something you don’t know. Mr. Del Rio has nothing to lose. He has cancer. He’ll be dead before he ever sees jail again.”

I looked past Cruz’s startled expression, said, “It’s metastasized, isn’t that right, Rick?”

“Right you are, Jack. I’ve made peace with my maker. I’m ready to go at any time.”

Keyes said, “That’s what you want? The name of who killed those johns? I thought you wanted me to say I did it. Yo, I want you to get that crazy bitch off the street.”

“Wait,” I said. “A woman killed those johns?”

“You deaf, man?” Keyes asked me. “Yeah, she’s a she, all right. I was banging her while my old lady was in prison. I thought we had something going, but she doesn’t like men, yo. She fuckin’ hates them.

“One night, I was sleeping, she put a coat hanger around my neck. I put my gun in her ear. Told her she had to the count of three to get the hell out of my life. Then I heard one of her tricks died by a wire. See, I picked Candy up from the Seaview the night that trick was killed, yo. She called me up without going through her service. She used me as her wheelman, you hear me? That’s not right.”

“What’s Candy’s full name?” Del Rio said.

“You let me go if I tell you?”

Del Rio lowered his gun.

“Carmelita Gomez. She works at that Cuban club from ten to four, so, like, she can still squeeze in a few tricks on the side-”

Cruz leaned in so that his eyes were only inches from Keyes’s face.

“Where can we find Ms. Gomez now?”