Red Alert(NYPD Red #5)(29)

“Or it could be the delusions of a paranoid lawyer. The only one who can confirm or deny what Hirsch said is La Grande, and guys like him pay lawyers a lot of money to keep guys like us from asking questions.”

“It couldn’t hurt to give it a try,” I said, reaching for the phone.

“Great. Do you have him on speed dial, or did you Google heroin distributors Brooklyn?”

“It’s a long shot, but I think we have a connection,” I said, dialing the landline and keeping it on speaker.

“Who are you calling?”

“Danny Corcoran.”

He answered on the first ring.

“Danny, we need a favor.”

“Name it.”

“You worked Narcotics in Brooklyn, right?” I said.

“Five glorious years.”

“Kylie and I need a sit-down with Malique La Grande.”

“No problem, Zach. Malique is having dinner with me, Angela, and the kids tonight. Why don’t you guys swing by?”

“Danny, I know this is a big ask.”

“Bigger than you think. Malique and I have an ugly history. I can’t exactly pop by and ask if he wants to chat it up with two of my cop buddies.”

“You bust him?”

“Just the opposite. I could never get him dirty, so I spent years fucking with him. Booting his car, hauling him in on every candy-ass charge I could come up with, and one time I got a snitch to tell me where his stash was, and it cost him a bunch of guns and eighty ten-dollar bags. We’re not exactly Facebook friends, Zach. When did you start talking to drug dealers?”

“He may have a connection to the multiple-bombing case we’re working.”

“Bombs aren’t Malique’s style.”

“Zoe Pound is the only lead we have.”

“I wish you had called me a month ago. I had a better relationship with his former boss, Dingo Slide.”

“I heard Dingo is dead, and Malique took over.”

“Whoever told you that left out some details. Dingo died of natural causes: lung cancer. His heir apparent was a nephew, Kervin Blades. But Blades died three days after Uncle Dingo—unnatural causes: lead poisoning. Then Malique took over.”

“Work your magic, Danny. We need this.”

“It would be easier if you needed an audience with the Pope or Springsteen tickets, but give me a day, maybe two. I’ll see what I can do.”

I thanked him and hung up.

“I’m impressed,” Kylie said.

“Hey, every now and then I have a good idea,” I said.

“Not with you. I’m impressed that Corcoran can score Springsteen tickets.”

A rookie opened the door. “Detectives, there’s a guy out front who wants to see you—both of you—but he won’t come in the building.”

“Did he give you his name?” Kylie said.

“No, ma’am. He just said he’d be waiting for you in his car.”

“What kind of car?”

“A Benz. Silver S550. Totally badass.”

“Q,” I said to Kylie. “Judge Rafferty accused him of blackmail, and we never got back to him.”

“Tell the guy in the badass Benz that we’ll be down in a few minutes,” Kylie said to the rookie. “It’s not like we have anything else to do.”





CHAPTER 28



The Benz was double-parked, engine idling, rear door cracked open. As soon as we joined Q in the back seat, Rodrigo, his driver, started rolling. Q is too circumspect to conduct business in front of a station house.

“Detectives,” Q said, “I know how busy you are, so I took the liberty of showing up without calling you.”

“We also know how busy we are,” I said, “so even though you’ve got an angry judge on your hands, we took the liberty of not calling you.”

“I’m hurt,” he said, putting both hands to his powder-blue cashmere sweater and pressing them to his heart. “Do you know why I’m here this morning?”

“Yes. You’re here to call in a favor.”

“Zachary,” he said. “That’s harsh. I thought your unit had the sensitivity training to deal with New York’s most affluent citizens. Certainly you know that I’m one of them.”

“Red was created to serve and protect New York’s most affluent taxpayers,” I said. “Are you one of them?”

“I plead the Fifth,” he said.

“But I’m sure the Cayman Islands cops are very sensitive to your needs.”

“Allow me to get to the purpose of my visit,” Q said. “Yesterday you asked me to see what information I could gather on the Silver Bullet Foundation.”

“And did you find anything?”

“Since we spoke, a second one of them was blown up. It was in all the papers, so I’m sure you’re aware of it.”

“Thank you very much,” Kylie said. “It’s on our radar.”

She looked at me, her eyes smiling. Q Lavish enjoyed dicking around with us, but only when he had something we needed. If he was only here to call in a chit, he’d have asked by now. He knew something, and the more he jerked us around, the bigger the prize.