Bronx Requiem(99)

Manny said, “And us, amigo. You know they’re coming after us, and they got lots of young guns with them trying to make a mark.”

Beck sat, arms crossed, frowning.

Everybody fell silent, waiting for Beck, who appeared to be falling into a darker and angrier mood with each passing moment.

Finally, Manny asked, “You got a way out of this, James? Or is it time to close shop and disappear?”

Beck looked up, breaking out of his reverie.

“We’re not running, and we’re not going back to prison.”

“So what are we gonna do?”

“First I have to decide if I’m going to tell that young girl I’m going to kill the man who murdered her father.”

That caused a moment of silence. And then Demarco asked, “You know who?”

“Yes. Detective John Palmer.”





58

Detective John Palmer and Raymond Ippolito parked on 174th Street, within sight of the Bronx River Houses. Juju Jackson sat in the backseat of their unmarked car. Ippolito at the wheel. Eric Jackson had called them ten minutes after they’d finished their meeting with Frederick Wilson, demanding a meeting.

Jackson started the conversation.

“You got my witnesses, right.”

Ippolito said, “Yeah. It looks good. What’s the problem?”

“Time for you to keep up your end of the bargain. I got to move on that crew, now.”

“Jeezus Christ, Eric, we just met with the ADA. We’re getting everything worked out.”

“You didn’t hear what happened last night?”

Palmer asked, “What?”

“That crew took out four of my best guys at the Expressway Motel, and nearly killed another one who was with Whitey.”

Ippolito said, “That motel isn’t in our precinct. It’s in the Four-Three. What the hell happened?”

“I just told you what happened. I got to hit that crew. Now.”

“How do you know it was Beck’s crew? What were your boys doing?”

“It was Beck’s crew. You going to give me what you promised or not?”

Palmer turned around to talk to Jackson.

“Listen, we’re setting this up for you perfect. You’re going to be able to clean house in one shot.”

“What the hell you talkin’ about?”

“I said we’re setting this up.”

“How? When?”

“Couple of days, max. All you’re going to need is one car of good shooters.”

Ippolito looked at Palmer. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Jackson said, “How? Where?”

“All right, we’re taking a huge risk, but here’s the plan. Like we told you, Beck’s crew consists of four guys. That’s it. Only four.”

Jackson said, “How do you know?”

“Trust me. We’ve scraped all the NYPD files. It’s just the four of them. Like I said before, they probably have connections to other guys, but that’s the crew.”

“Go on.”

“Our original deal was two for us, two for you, right? I’m going to deliver three of them to you, unarmed. The whole crew except for Beck, okay? Unarmed, in one place where you can set up to take them out. You’ll have a clear shot at all three. You can plan escape routes and be gone in five seconds. How’s that sound?”

“Like bullshit.”

“It isn’t. We just now got word from our precinct commander. The top brass has stepped in. The NYPD wants James Beck taken down, whatever it takes. Today is Friday. We’ve been running around getting everything organized. We’re getting arrest warrants for all four. Tomorrow, Saturday, there’s going to be an all-day meeting to organize the arrest teams serving the warrants. The troops go in after them Sunday, early Monday morning, latest. They’ll get processed initially wherever we pick them up, but at some point, all of them will be sent to Bronx Criminal Court on 161st for arraignment.”

“I still ain’t heard how we gonna get a shot at them.”

Palmer spoke slowly and precisely. “Once they get arrested and into processing, they obviously won’t be armed. They won’t be anywhere near a weapon. I’m going to know where they are every step of the way. I’m going to mess with the evidence a little so that Guzman, Baldassare, and Jones will make bail.”

“Bullshit. Them guys gotta have heavy records. How’s the judge not going to remand them?”

“Trust me, all I gotta do is lose a few pages of material. They’ll have a good lawyer. And money. But if the judge doesn’t let ’em post bail, so what? They’ll be sent to Rikers and be out of your hair. You’ll have plenty of time to take care of them inside if you want.”

Ippolito knew Palmer was lying about Baldassare. He’d already supplied Wilson with an affidavit he’d signed. But he might be right about Jones and Guzman.

Jackson asked, “What about Beck?”

“Forget about Beck. I told you, he’s going down. He’s not getting bail. Nobody really gives a shit about the other three. All you have to do then is be ready when they walk out of court. You can have men on the street, or do it as a drive-by, or both. Whatever way you want. I leave that up to you. They walk out of the Bronx courthouse, unarmed, all three in one place, and your guys take ’em out. End of story. Done.”