Blue Belle

'It's not his name, just what people call him. Short for 'Godzilla.'

'Oh. Why'd he say that name? Mor-Tay?'

'He was asking a question. That pimp, Marques. He wants to know about putting a bounty out on someone, he should talk to Mama.'

140

McGowan's car pulled up. I got out of the Pontiac, making sure he could see me, walking toward him, both hands in sight. His partner reached behind him; the back door popped open. I climbed in. His partner closed it behind me - no door handles on the inside.

'You know Morales?' McGowan asked.

'Yeah.'

'He's with me on this. Understand?'

'Yeah.'

'You called me out here.'

I lit a smoke. 'You sure you want your partner to hear this?'

They looked at each other. Morales said, 'I need some cigarettes. Be right back. You need anything?'

McGowan shook his head. Morales stepped out.

'I found the Ghost Van.'

'Where?'

'It's underground. There's three men in on the front end. One's the dead guy you found in the Chelsea playground. Two more left. I got a plan to trap one, work him until he shows me where the other one is.'

'You saw the van?'

'Not with my eyes. I know where it is.'

'That's enough for a warrant.'

'The guy who saw it, he's not coming in. Neither am I. I got a deal. You interested?'

'Go.'

'I need some things from you. Everything works out, I take this guy who wants Max. And the Ghost Van goes boom.'

'What's mine?'

'The shooter,' I said. 'And Sally Lou.'

McGowan knew the name. He puffed furiously on his cigar. I could see where they got the idea for smoked glass. 'What do you need?'

'A massage parlor. In Times Square. And for the cops to stay away. A week, maybe two.'

'Where am I gonna get a massage parlor?'

'McGowan, don't negotiate. I got no slack in my rope. You already got a couple of them. Maybe not you personally, but the cops have. That joint just off Forty-sixth - that was yours, right?'

'That was a sting. The tax boys. And it's all closed down now.'

'But you got more. You've been after Sally Lou for years.

'There is one. But it's not ours.'

'The federales?'

'Yeah.'

'Tell them you need it. Couple of weeks. I'll staff it myself.'

'With what?'

'Marques Dupree. He'll lend me some girls.'

'He's in this?'

'It started with him. Like I told you. I'll be calling him in an hour. Get him over here. I want you to tell him it's okay.'

'Now you want me to make a deal with a pimp.'

'McGowan, you'd make a deal with the devil to drop Sally Lou.'

'Spell it out - what do I get?'

'The shooter comes to the massage parlor. I talk to him. He turns over this other guy I want. We dump the shooter anyplace you say. The Ghost Van goes up in smoke. And you find everything you need to take Sally Lou down.'

'This other guy . . . What if it doesn't work out?'

'I got one more deal. One more piece. You and me take a walk over to that brown Pontiac. The one I came out of. There's a girl sitting in the front seat. You take a good long look at her. Whatever happens, you make sure she walks away. In exchange, I leave you a letter. With everything in it. The Ghost Van, the shooter, this karate- freak, the shooting in the Chelsea playground, Sally Lou.'

'And I let the girl walk?'

'She'll be the one mailing you the letter. Enough for a dozen cases.'

'Let's take a look,' he said.

141

We strolled to the Pontiac. I motioned for Belle to roll down her window.

'This is Detective McGowan, NYPD,' I told her. She didn't take her hands out of her lap. 'He's the one you're going to mail that letter to, okay?'

'Okay.' No expression on her face.

We walked back to McGowan's car. Morales was halfway across the parking lot. McGowan waved him in.

'One more thing,' I said.

'What now?'

'You know Morelli? The reporter?'

'Sure.'

'He gets it first. Exclusive. He'll take care of you.'

'And your people.'

I nodded.

'Okay,' he said.

Morales joined us. 'Take a walk with me,' McGowan said. 'I'll fill you in.'

I went back to the Pontiac, let myself in, watched McGowan and Morales standing by the pay phone on the pier.

'Good girl.'

'What's in this letter I'm supposed to mail?'

'A free pass - I'll tell you later.'

I watched McGowan pick up the phone. He talked for a couple of minutes. Stood where he was. Picked up the phone again. Talked some more. Waved.

'Be right back,' I told Belle.

I walked up to McGowan. 'Call the pimp,' he said.

142

Marques was on his car phone. Answered it himself.

'You know who this is?'

'Yeah, man. What . . . ?'

'The Maiden Lane pier. Now. It's coming down.'