Bronx Requiem(74)
None of it quite made up for the fact that the office was in a windowless basement.
Ciro occupied half of the couch, feet resting on the coffee table, dressed in dark slacks, expensive loafers, and a black knit shirt. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at Manny and Demarco when they entered.
“Bad day in the Bronx, huh, boys?”
“How can you tell?” said Manny.
“Experience. How bad?”
Manny sat in one of the leather chairs opposite Ciro. Demarco took the other, propping his feet up on the coffee table, mirroring Ciro. He compared his oxblood Allen Edmonds to Ciro’s dark green shoes and decided Ciro’s were probably more expensive and made out of an endangered species.
Demarco answered, “Might not be too bad. Might mean a bloodbath coming. Depends on how we navigate things.”
“What do you mean by navigate?”
Demarco laced his fingers behind his head, concentrating on how to bring Ciro up to speed without taxing his patience.
“Ah, okay, so—there’s two more dead guys. We put down one. Packy’s daughter shot the other one.”
“The girl? You’re kidding.”
“No. I’m not.”
“How’d that happened?”
“I guess she came to the same conclusion we did. The bad guys had to be looking for her because she shot one of theirs. She figured they would probably stake out her grandmother’s place to find her. Which they did. She dressed up like a homeless can-collector and was sneaking up on ’em as we arrived.”
“What’s with that kid?”
Manny answered, “She got guts. And enough brains to figure out it’s better to shoot them before they shoot her.”
“Hey, she wants to take out the whole f*cking gang, good for her.”
“Theoretically,” said Demarco. “But I doubt she’s going to get much further. One of Manny’s connections, an old-timer up in the Bronx, gave us the rundown on what she’s going up against. The Watkins boys were part of a much larger organization.”
“How large?”
Manny interjected. “Pretty much a bottomless glass.”
“Of what?”
Demarco answered, “Mostly local young bloods running around with guns trying to build a rep so they can gang up. Plus a few hard-core guys. Could add up to quite a few. Point being, Packy’s kid isn’t going to last much longer if she keeps shooting people in that part of the Bronx.”
Manny said, “And it ain’t going to be a clean death. They’re going to make an example of her.”
Ciro nodded, “So we got two more dead guys, a sixteen-year-old girl looking at a gruesome death, and we don’t know shit about who shot Packy.”
Demarco said, “I’m figuring the guy who runs this set knows a lot about who shot Packy and why. His name is Eric Jackson.”
Manny interjected, “Juju Jackson. His enforcer goes by the name Whitey Bondurant. You ever hear of them?”
“Hell no. So what do you guys want to do?”
Demarco said, “I think we have three options. Let me take you through them. See if you agree.”
Ciro whipped his feet off the coffee table and leaned forward.
“Okay. Shoot.”
“That’s option one.”
“Yeah, who exactly?” asked Ciro.
Demarco said, “Jackson and Bondurant would be at the top of my list. They have to be looking to kill Packy’s kid. And James. And us. And one way or another, they’re behind Packy getting shot.”
“Okay, how do we get to them?”
Manny said, “That’s the problem. No clue yet.”
Demarco said, “We’re not even close. We would have to really work it right.”
“Okay, so what’s option two?”
“Option two is, we find the girl. Losing Packy was bad enough. They’re going to do more than just shoot her. Plus, the cops will be looking for her at some point. Better for us they don’t get their hands on her. Also, she might be able to help us figure out how to get to Jackson and Bondurant.”
Ciro said, “What’s option three?”
“Wait for Walter to arrive back and find out what the cops are doing. Then wait for James to return and see where he’s at. That might change our priorities.”
Ciro said, “I ain’t sitting around waiting. We don’t know how to get to the big boys yet. So I say we find the kid.”
Manny said, “I agree. That’s what James wanted us to do while he’s gone. Find the brother, or the girl. Brother’s dead. Time to go for the girl.”
Ciro said, “Any idea how?”
Demarco said, “Yes, I think I know, but we’ll have to wait a couple of hours or so.”
“Fine by me. That’ll give us time to get something to eat.”
Without missing a bit, Demarco and Manny both said, “Not here.”
48
The gunshot Beck heard before he lost consciousness had been fired by Oswald Remsen. He stepped into the pack attacking Beck, grabbing and pulling men off.
“Goddammit, stop it. Stop! I don’t want him dead. Back off. Back off.”
He went down on one knee to see if Beck was still breathing. “All right. He’s alive.” He pulled Beck’s hands away from his head and rolled him onto his back. The brass knuckles were still on Beck’s left hand. Remsen removed them and slipped them into the pocket of his Windbreaker.