Bronx Requiem(84)

Jackson took a sip of his tea. Palmer and Ippolito waited for a response.

After a few moments, Jackson said, “All this shit you telling me about federal investigations, we all know ain’t worth all that much. There ain’t one dollar they can trace back to me. Maybe knowing who they’re coming after might help me tie up some loose ends, but ain’t no big deal. Like I said, I got ways of finding out who’s thinking about turning rat and taking care of it.”

Ippolito and Palmer waited. Jackson pushed his cup of tea away.

“But this other thing? I can’t have no crew from somewhere coming in here shooting my people. Can’t have it. I appreciate you giving me a name. But I ain’t going to say any more, ’cept I think it’s best if you gentlemen go do what you have to do, and I do what I got to do.”

Ippolito said, “Eric, why make life hard? You really want to start from scratch on this? We can tee up these guys for you.” Ippolito leaned toward Jackson. “Hey, I know what you’re thinking—f*ck these cops. Let ’em close their own cases. I get that. But let me tell you, it’s better for all of us if we wrap up these homicide investigations quickly. Yeah, it’s good for me and my partner. But it’s good for you, too. We put this shit to bed fast, maybe the Feds go back to chasing their tails, and it’s business as usual.”

Jackson nodded. Thinking it through.

“Eric, trust me, if we don’t make these cases, nobody is going to cry over some poor ex-con. And definitely not over f*cking Derrick Watkins, or his brother, and that other mook, Tyrell. We keep gettin’ paid.

“You, on the other hand, you’re going to be out there all on your own, my friend. The Watkins brothers are connected to you. Their whores are connected to you. If the powers that be decide your time is up, it’s up. And whoever these guys are coming after your people, they ain’t amateurs. What’s it been? Couple days and they’ve already taken out both the Watkins brothers? Plus Tyrell. Who knows how far they’re gonna take this little vendetta? Better we work together to put all this to sleep.” Ippolito shrugged and sat back in his chair, trying to look nonchalant. “Join forces. Faster, easier, simpler. Divide and conquer.”

“Divide how?”

Palmer chimed in. “There are four guys on this crew shooting your people. You give us witnesses who will let us take down Beck and one other guy on his crew. We give you leads on the other two. That’s two for us, two for you. Take yours down however you want.”

“How you know it’s only four guys?”

“We know. There have connections, but it’s only four involved in this.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. Seems like they’re pretty good at what they do.”

“And you know where to find the other two shooting my people?”

“Absolutely.”

“Plus, I get a heads-up on the FBI thing.”

“Yes.”

Jackson nodded to himself. “When you need these witnesses?”

Ippolito spoke. “We’re meeting with the assistant district attorney tomorrow at one. We need four witnesses at the Forty-second Precinct by noon, latest, so we can prep them.”

Palmer added, “Preferably four with fairly clean records who can take direction.”

“And when do I get the rundown on Beck’s crew?”

Palmer continued, “Just to be clear. We get Beck and one of his guys I can identify. You get the other two.”

“But I gotta have information and whereabouts on every f*cking one of them. You guys don’t nail Beck and whoever, I got to be ready to defend myself.”

Ippolito closed the deal. “All right, Eric, we see four stand-up witnesses by noon tomorrow, we’ll give you everything we can on Beck’s crew, plus keep you ahead of the Feds. But—you give us a few days to arrest Beck and the other guy. After that, everybody does whatever the f*ck they want.”

Jackson said, “Today’s Thursday. So by Sunday, I’m free to go.”

Ippolito said, “No. Today’s shot. We need until Monday, earliest.”

Jackson nodded, leaned toward Palmer and Ippolito, and said, “I don’t like sitting on my hands.”

“You’ll have the info on that crew tomorrow. If I were you, I’d use the time to make a plan. Monday is reasonable.”

“All right, f*ck it. And remember, you two don’t hold up your end, my witnesses gonna get real hard to find. And if you do find ’em, they’ll have amnesia.”

“Fair enough.” Ippolito stood. He knew when to end the meeting. “Nice talking to you, Eric.”

He and Palmer put on their jackets and left without another word.

Thirty seconds after they left, Jackson took out his cell phone to call Bondurant. The cops had no idea who had really shot Derrick Watkins. He wanted to make sure Bondurant had found the girl, or was close to it. He waited for Bondurant to pick up. He didn’t.

He wondered what the hell was going on.

“Whitey, call me.”





51

They ended up at one of Ciro’s favorite Italian restaurants not far from the strip club. A small, unassuming family operation with very good food.

By the time they finished dinner, Demarco had a plan to find Amelia.