little fighter was being stopped constantly by admirers.
'God bless you,' one elderly Hispanic woman said as she took his hand in both of hers. 'You have come to save us.'
'Mama, you vote for me and we will save each other,' Rocky answered.
It took him almost a full thirty minutes to make his way to the staging area where his Mercedes was parked.
We hung back and tried to remain inconspicuous, which was nearly impossible for two Anglos in a park full of Hispanics. We both had our new ROCKY FOR MAYOR ball caps pulled low over our eyes.
We tailed along a few yards behind Chacon until we readied a wooden barrier that had been constructed to partition vehicles with special passes. Two large sound trucks were parked among the VIP cars. After Rocky got into his old Mercedes, we made our way over to the white Escalade parked nearby and climbed inside.
This nimrod actually thinks he can just waltz in here and take this' Horace growled. Then he pointed at Rocky's departing sedan. 'He's pulling out.'
Through the back window of the old Mercedes, we could see that Rocky was alone. We slid out into traffic and followed him, staying a block back, as he drove down Scout Avenue, then turned onto the bridge that spanned the L. A. River, heading into the neighboring town of Fleetwood.
'Okay, Shane, heres the 4-1-1,' Alonzo said as he drove. 'Dirty Harry reassigned you, Horace and Roulon Green to the swing shift. As of tonight you're all on the deployment sheet for Fleetwood. Roulon is waiting over here somewhere right now with your black-and-white. As soon as we locate Rocky's fuck pad, I'll radio him and he'll drive your unit to a spot near the apartment. Thats where we'll meet up. Then you walk back, sneak into Rocky's place and double-tap those two. Your squad car will be parked out front of his apartment waiting for you when you come out.'
'We're rushing this,' I said. 'If I'm on patrol, I can't show up in civvies.'
'It's covered. I got both your uniforms out of your lockers. They're stashed in the black-and-white. You two change into your Class C's when we meet up with Roulon. After you do the job, you call dispatch and ask for backup. Horace and I will roger the call and the three of us will lock down the crime scene and hold it for Captain Jones, who will handle the one-eighty-seven investigation.'
'I'm going with Scully,' Horace interjected.
'No, you're not,' I replied.
'I'm going with you,' Horace reiterated. 'Get used to the idea. Fin gonna be there to make sure you do what you're supposed to.'
I'm not taking a fucking observer,' I said lightly. Our voices were now rising in anger.
'Calm down, both of you,' Alonzo ordered. Then he glanced over at me. 'He's right. We agreed, since there's 110 poly, we're stuck in this together. If Horace wants to back von up, what's the big problem?'
'The problem is I don't want him. I don't like him.'
'I told you Scully was dirty,' Horace challenged. 'He doesn't want me there 'cause he's not gonna do it. I keep telling you he's our rat.'
'Velario s going with you,' Alonzo snapped. As far as he was concerned, the subject was closed. I let it drop.
Alonzo continued to follow the black 220 across the bridge into Fleetwood. After going about a mile, Rocky made a left, passed three intersections, and then pulled up to a building on the corner. It was a big boxy apartment with the architectural significance of a parking garage in Watts. A sign on the roof identified it as the Garden Apartments. I could see 110 gardens, just a strip of dead grass out front.
Rocky turned his 220 into the underground garage using a security card, which opened the sliding gate. Then the little Mercedes sedan disappeared down the ramp, flaring red from its taillights.
Alonzo continued past the apartment complex and hung a U-turn in the middle of the street that went north. He triggered a hand rover as lie drove. 'R. G., we'll meet you on the seven hundred block of Walnut Street.'
I heard two static squelches as Roulon triggered his walkie twice to indicate an affirmative.
Alonzo pulled to the curb and a minute later my old rust-spotted '96 Chrysler squad car pulled up behind us and parked. As Roulon got out, I could see that he was already in uniform.
He opened the trunk and was pulling our war bags out as we joined him. He handed Horace and me our duffels. 'You two can take turns changing in the back of the patrol car.'
I opened the back door of Car Thirteen. As I was doing this, Horaco leaned in close and whispered, 'You and I are about to have some fun, asshole.'
As I was finishing putting on my uniform, I had a decision to make over which belt to wear. If Agent Love could track me using the Haven Park PD device, it might give me a slight advantage because the little pen was only a satellite transmitter and probably not too accurate as a GPS. Alonzo knew where I was anyway so I strung my civilian belt through my uniform, then grabbed an extra pair of black socks from my duffel, shoved them into my pocket and got out.
After Horace and I were in harness, Alonzo reached into his pocket and handed me the murder gun. He had put it in a police evidence bag to keep our prints off it. I looked through the cellophane at the blue steel Covert Carry automatic with six in the clip. There was a smooth spot above the trigger where the serial numbers had been filed. Your basic throwdown gun.
'What about the cartridges? You wipe the brass?' I asked.
'We're not idiots, Scully,' Alonzo said. 'After you shoot both of 'em, wipe the gun clean, then put it in the bitch's hand. Fire it once so she tests positive when CSI does the gunshot residue test, then call this number.' Alonzo handed me a slip of paper. 'The guy on that phone will report gunshots to 911 in Spanish. Ill tell dispatch I'm passing the apartment on my way home and will cover the front. Don't screw it up.'
'Don't worry,' I told him.
I took off walking, with Velario on my heels, never more than a foot behind. He was so close that I could feel his hot breath on my ear.
In less than two minutes, one of us would be going on alone.
Chapter 42
My uniform shirt was beginning to stick to my back as w e neared the four-story Garden Apartments. The building loomed ahead 011 the opposite corner like a big stucco shoe box. It was after midnight, and most of the lights w ere off inside. I paused in a recessed doorway 011 the corner to look the place over before crossing the street.
'What're you waiting for?' Horace prodded.
'You wanta just stroll up the trout walk and start knocking on doors? That's your plan? We're here to clip this guy. It might be better if we're not seen.'
'It's late. They're all fucking illegals. They won't mess with us. Nobody wants to risk getting deported. We need to check the mailboxes, see which apartment lie's in. How the fuck else will we find his room?'
I didn't answer and stepped off the curb. I crossed Wilcox and started up the street heading along the west side of the apartment building. I found an alley that ran perpendicular and turned left.
It took two more minutes to get to the rear of the apartment complex, where I saw an eight-foot-high wooden fence with an unlocked back gate. I swung it open and we walked into a small backyard area. Four wooden planter boxes containing water-starved citrus trees supplied the meager courtyard landscaping. We crossed that weed-choked space, staying next to the apartment wall so we wouldn't be seen by any residents who might be sitting on their narrow balconies. Then we went through a large door into the main building.
Once we got to the lobby elevator, I saw a sign Scotch-taped to the metal doors that said:
Utiliza LA ESCALERA.
Out of Service.
I bypassed the main staircase, preferring to use the fire stairs. Then I descended into the subterranean parking garage.
'The fuck you going?' Horace growled as he lumbered along behind me. 'Whatta we doin' in the damn
