The Second Girl(87)
“She’s alive,” I tell him.
He nods his head up and down quickly, and what looks like a smile is trying to work its way out of the duct tape.
He’s struggling to say something through it. I pull it halfway so he can talk.
“Oh, thank you, God. Thank you. I did what you told me, right?”
“Yeah, I suppose. You’re responsible for a lot of people getting hurt, too.”
“No, man, I told you I ain’t about that. That’s not me. That be them.”
“No, that be you, too, little man. I want you to tell me something, though. Why didn’t you take that girl Justine to work the brothel like the others?”
“Justine?”
“The high school girl in Virginia. You know who I’m talking about. The one you got f*cked up on crack.”
“Oh yeah.”
“So why didn’t you get her to work at the brothel?”
“’Cause…I don’t know. I just didn’t like her for that.”
“You just liked to f*ck her, then?”
“Fuck no. I don’t mean like that.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter now.”
I pull him out by the arms, careful not to soil my gloves. I let him fall over the bumper and to the ground. His feet are hogtied to his hands so he falls to his side.
He sees the river. By the look he’s got, I know he knows what’s up.
“Aw f*ck no, c’mon, now. Fuck this.”
I lean down to grab him.
“Wait, wait…I can give you something else. I got somethin’ good you need to know. Maybe we can work this shit out, huh?”
“What do you got?”
It takes him a moment to catch his breath.
“I can tell you who shot that officer.”
“Didn’t we go over that shit already?”
“Naw, man, naw.”
“I must be tired, then.”
“Little Monster did that shit.”
“That’s old news, Playboy. He got himself killed by the police in the back of the house you ran out of.”
“What?”
“No shit. No more Little Monster. You can tell me one other thing, though.”
“Yeah, man. Anything. What you need?”
“Why did he have to go and kill the cop? I thought it was just me he was after.”
“He crazy like that. He got himself all worked up when Officer Tommy rolled up and called it his.”
“That’s some shit.”
“Yeah, man, sure is, but he crazy like that.”
“All those dippers he smokes, huh?”
“Yeah, must be.”
“But still, you were the driver.”
“Fuck, man, shit… I had to drive. I told you he f*cking crazy. But wait, I got somethin’ else for you. Something much better. You need to hear this shit, man.”
“Make it good.”
“That officer who got shot, he wasn’t all you think.”
“Yeah?”
“He got himself a girl at the brothel. This young Latina girl. He be up there almost every night with her. He never pay, either.”
“He’s dead, so what the f*ck do I care for?”
“Instead of paying he worked it off in trade, with Cordell. Just a couple days ago he did somethin’ big for him.”
“What was that?”
“He shot some f*cking kid in Virginia. Tapped him in the back of his head in his own bedroom.”
“Fuck you,” I say.
“No, man, this is for real. I’m like a witness to that shit. I heard it get set up through Monster and Cordell and Officer Tommy.”
“Police will need more than you as a witness. You ain’t that credible.”
“There is more witnesses. The hit came through one of the ’migos that got himself locked up. His name be Angelo, and then one of his other boys was with Cordell and Officer Tommy. A boy named José. He be Angelo’s brother, and the one that knew where the boy lived and shit.”
“José gave the officer the address for the boy who got shot?”
“Yeah, shit yeah. Cordell okayed it, but the request came through Angelo ’cause of some shit the boy got himself involved with.”
“What shit?”
“I don’t know about all that, but that’s good information, right?”
“Yeah, that’s f*cking good information, and I’ll pass it on.”
“So you’ll let me go?”
“Fuck no. You’re nothin’ but a piece of shit.”
I tape up his mouth before he can talk, and give him a shove so he rolls down the slope. It’s an awkward tumble, like a quadruple amputee with a back deformity who is desperately trying but can’t stop himself. He lands on his side and gets caught up on some trash along the riverbank. I slide myself down. He’s jerking and trying to kick himself free.
I give his body a good push off the bank with my foot and send him into the river so the current’ll slowly take him. His body naturally rolls upward, like a fishing bobber made for great white sharks. He sucks in air through his nose and his chest expands like he thinks that’ll keep him afloat.
I pull out the Taurus and take aim at his chest. His eyes widen and nostrils flare. He struggles to break free, but all that does is take his head under. It quickly pops up again and he blows water out of his nose and almost pops the duct tape from his mouth.