The Killing Floor Blues (Daniel Faust #5)(88)
I let myself in and pulled the release for the rear trunk. Bentley and Corman were already on the move behind me. They had the Caddy’s trunk open too, and they were busy unloading half of Gabriel’s present: two thick bales of marijuana, pressed into fat bricks and sealed in plastic wrap. We loaded the goods into the Mercedes’s trunk and shut the lid.
I passed the break-in tools to Corman and waved them off. They jumped back into the Cadillac and pulled a U-turn while I sprinted back across the street and into the other model home. I met up with Caitlin in the living room, hunkering down behind the plate-glass window, just in time to hear the sirens.
Fifteen minutes ago, I’d made a quick call to Gary.
“This is a friendly anonymous tip,” I told him. “I just saw a bunch of guys, probably carrying unlicensed firearms, making a drug deal in an empty model house out in Eldorado.”
“Is that so?” he said.
“Yeah. You should probably check their trunk. And you might find another twenty or thirty pounds of pot down in the basement, too. Move fast.”
Fun fact: getting caught with that much marijuana constitutes the intent to distribute, which moves the crime from a minor misdemeanor to a class-five felony.
The Outfit thugs figured out what was up, about thirty seconds too late. They bolted out the front door just as four squad cars came screaming up the street, screeching to a stop outside the model house. The thugs froze, grabbing air as their guns clattered to the sidewalk.
“As frame jobs go,” I said to Caitlin, “this was pretty quick and dirty. Charges might or might not stick, and in any case I can guarantee they’ll be bonded out by morning.”
She frowned at me. “Then why do it? Why not just kill them?”
I watched as the wispy blond went down hard against the hood of one cruiser, his hands wrenched behind his back as the cuffs slapped on. I couldn’t help but smile.
“Beyond the satisfaction of doing unto others as was done unto to me? It’s all about sending a message. Chicago thinks that with Nicky gone, the Vegas underworld’s in chaos.”
“It is.”
“Yeah, but four of their boys just got set up and rolled by Vegas’s finest. It’s gonna look like we’ve got the cops in our pocket.”
“Making the city appear to be a harder target than it really is,” Caitlin said, putting it together. “Or that perhaps Nicky isn’t really missing after all.”
“And hopefully providing food for thought.” Across the street, the cops popped the Mercedes’s trunk, one holding up a brick of pot like it was a hunting trophy. “That thought ideally being, ‘Let’s find a different city to pick on.’”
“Do you think they will?”
My shoulders sagged. “Realistically? No. This war is coming. Doesn’t mean we have to make it easy for ’em, though, and the more misinformation and confusion we can hit them with, the better.”
Eventually the cops finished their search, bundled the thugs into backseats, and headed out. As the last cruiser rumbled down the street, I gave a salute through the window.
“Happy birthday, Detective Kemper,” I said. “Enjoy your cake.”
Caitlin glanced down at the slim platinum Chanel watch on her wrist. “Four o’clock, pet. Cesar will be expecting that delegation’s arrival in three hours.”
“I’ve been thinking about that. Let’s head back to the Nook and rally the troops.”
The Mercedes sat abandoned across the street, waiting for a police tow to haul it to the impound lot.
“But first,” I said, “give me a hand. I want those license plates.”
*
Pixie had aerial maps of Rock-a-Hoola up on her laptop screen. As we walked into the bookstore, the door chime jingling, she and Margaux were shaking their heads at each other.
“You’re right,” Margaux said, “there’s no way.”
“There’s always a way,” I replied, locking the door behind us. “But what specific impossibility are we talking about?”
“Getting in there without getting, well, shot.” Pixie turned her laptop to show me the screen, gesturing with the cap of a pen. “Look: the way in from every direction is completely open. No cover, no way to sneak in. If they put sentries here, here, and especially here, up on top of this old water slide, they can cover every possible approach to the park.”
“We do have the Calles on our side now,” Bentley said, emerging from the back room with Corman in tow. “And that Gabriel gentleman sounded quite eager to settle scores. If we let them attack first and supplement their firepower with a bit of subtle magic…”
“And then Cesar shoots Jennifer.” I held up an open hand. In my other, I cradled the two license plates we’d stolen off the Mercedes. “No. The bullets don’t start flying until after she’s secure.”
“But we can’t get to her,” Margaux said.
“I’ve been thinking about that.” I showed them the Illinois plates. “Look, I’ve only been to Jennifer’s fortress once. So the Calles might know my name, but only a few of them have ever seen me, and they’ve got no reason to remember my face. And I know Cesar doesn’t know me.”
Corman’s brow furrowed. “I don’t like where you’re going with this, kiddo.”