Bronx Requiem(56)

Juju stirred slightly on the park bench, scrunched his face, yawned.

“Any particular reason the bitch shot him?”

“I don’t know. Just happened out of nowhere. I think she was figuring we were going to do her.”

“How’d she figure that?”

“Derrick gave her shit about the thing with her father.”

“What’d I tell you about that bitch?”

“Told me to have him cut her loose. I was on my way over there when the father showed up.”

“You were?”

“Yeah. For real. I didn’t know he was going to be there like the next day after you told me. Shit. As it was, Derrick had the bitch out on the street workin’. She wasn’t even there to throw out.”

Jackson stared straight ahead, lips pursed, nodding. “You see how things get f*cked up when you don’t do what you’re supposed to do when I tell you to do them?”

Biggie couldn’t think of any answer that wouldn’t annoy Jackson, so he said nothing.

Jackson shifted on the park bench. Biggie’s nerves ticked up a notch. He kept a close watch on Jackson’s hands.

Jackson asked, “What about the crew that came bustin’ in on you?”

Biggie worried about not knowing enough to satisfy Jackson, but he had to say something. “They seemed like they knew the whore’s father. The guy Derrick and them beat up. They wanted to know who shot him. They thought Derrick shot him. Or one of his guys.”

“How’d they find Derrick?”

“I ain’t sure. We heard they was at the Houses lookin’ for him. Probably went to Derrick’s apartment. I’m figuring the kid Derrick had watchin’ the place told them.”

“He around?”

“Nobody seen him.”

“Then he told them. You find him and you shoot him. In the mouth.”

Biggie nodded. He knew however many times they shot Leon Miller, there damn well had better be at least one bullet fired into his mouth.

Juju Jackson squinted, going through a thought process Biggie did not dare interrupt. After a few moments, Jackson spoke.

“Okay, here’s what you do. You gonna find that bitch and you gonna kill her. But first you gonna make a mess of her. And then you leave the body somewhere outside where people will see it. You understand?”

“Yes, sir”

“I want you to find Tyrell and get him to help you with the bitch. We got to make sure he knows what his obligations are. I don’t blame him for getting arrested, but I blame him for getting released without being booked or arraigned for somethin’. That means he agreed to work with the cops. Probably to testify against the crew that rolled on you all. But it won’t stop there. Cops’ll use him to come at all of us. So you find him. Let him tell you what bullshit he thinks he’s playin’ at. Then you have him help you find the bitch and make sure he pulls the trigger on her so we got that on him.”

“Okay. No problem. He’ll be into it.”

“After you do the bitch, stay close to him and find out what he’s tellin’ the cops. Let me know. I’ll give you the word when I want you to kill him.”

“Got it. What you want to do about them guys who knew the bitch’s father?”

“How many of them were there?”

“Four.”

“Probably more behind them.” Anger crept into Juju’s voice. “This is the shit that happens when people don’t do what they supposed to do.”

Biggie froze. He could feel Jackson seconds away from pulling a knife or a gun on him. For a moment, he thought about running, but before he could muster the courage, the moment passed.

Jackson said, “We’ll have to take care of them.”

Jerome knew that meant Juju would be bringing in Whitey Bondurant and his men, which was fine with him. He readily agreed.

“Okay. No problem.”

“Yeah, right. No f*cking problem for you.”

“Well … “

Jackson’s voice rose a notch. “Well, what?”

Biggie cursed silently. Instead of keeping his mouth shut, he’d ignited the spark again.

I said, “Well, what?”

“Nuthin’. Sorry.”

Eric Jackson stared at Biggie for a moment, then turned away. It was the first time he had looked at him in the entire conversation. Biggie had no doubt Jackson was deciding on whether or not to kill him. And then he said, “What time you got?”

Biggie checked his watch. “Almost two o’clock.”

“You best get moving, Jerome. You got a lot to do.”





36

Manny Guzman sat silently in the front passenger seat as Demarco Jones guided a gray 2008 Chevy Impala north on the Bruckner Expressway. The car had been delivered to Demarco by one of the crew’s colleagues, a master thief and security expert named Ricky Bolo.

As they drove north out of Red Hook, Demarco and Manny had come up with several names of ex-convicts and criminals they knew who might be familiar with the gang sets up in the Bronx. They needed a lead on how to find Jerome Watkins.

They hopscotched around the Bronx and Harlem for a few hours, tracking down and talking with associates, but didn’t shake loose any solid information about where Watkins might be.