shipped it down here to this house.”
“Who the fuck are you, man?”
“Have you told Pretty where you got the money?”
He shook his head.
“Because if you do,” I continued, “Ray will kill both’a ya’ll.”
“I ain’t said a word.”
“You told me.”
“You got a gun and you already knew most of it.”
“If you tell anybody, you’ll be dead.”
“I just told Pretty that I won twelve thousand on the trifecta. That’s all I said. I bought her some dresses an’ said I’d take her to New York in style.”
“Gimme the money for Meredith and the kids,” I said.
Perry didn’t even stall. He went to the closet, turned an iron plate in the floor, and pulled out a pillowcase filled with stacks of twenty-dollar bills held together by rubber bands.
“Thirty thousand,” he said. “There’s a letter in there already sealed and addressed to her. I was gonna drop it off when they were asleep tonight.”
“When you leavin’ for New York?” I asked him.
“Monday. We flyin’ first class. We gonna live in Brooklyn. After I get a divorce, we be married.”
I doubted that the nuptials would ever take place, but that was okay. Perry would be better off without Pretty Smart.
“One more question,” I said.
“What?”
“Where’s Raymond?”
He blinked four times.
“No, man,” he said. “I cain’t tell ya that. Ray kill me wherever I was if I told you about that.”
I put the pistol in my pocket and sighed.
“Okay,” I said. “All right. I can see that you really mean it.”
“I cain’t tell ya,” Perry said again.
“I know. So you won’t mind when me and my friends hog-tie you and drag you back to Meredith and all them kids.”
Pericles Tarr was a man of decision despite his weaknesses. He was more afraid of his family’s love than he was of the deadliest man in Los Angeles. He gave me the address in Compton without another word of hesitation.
38
When Perry and I came back into the living room, Jean-Paul was talking to Pretty. She was grinning and ducking her head coyly. I had the pillowcase in one hand and the .38 in the other. I’d taken the gun out again to dissuade the young bombshell from asking questions.
When Jackson saw us he got to his feet. Reluctantly, Villard followed suit.
Perry went with his woman to stand by the front door. They watched us file out. There were no words of good-bye or good luck.
“HOW’D YOU GET that girl to let you in the house?” I asked Jackson as we were driving away.
I had put Meredith’s nest egg in the trunk.
“Jean-Paul’s shoes what did it,” Jackson said with a grin.
“Shoes?”
“Martin Lane,” Jean-Paul added.
“Who?”
“These shoes cost twelve hundred dollars,” the insurance kingpin informed me.
“So?”
“Pretty asked me if I was wearing Martin Lanes,” he said. “It seems that she keeps up with the fashion.”
“That was the icebreaker, Easy,” Jackson bragged. “She was fallin’ all ovah herself to get us in there an’ figure out why my man here got them shoes. She and him goin’ out on his yacht for dinner tomorrow night.”
“Perry told me that they were flyin’ to New York on Monday,” I countered.
“She didn’t tell us nuthin’ about that. I guess she gonna be spendin’ Sunday night packin’ or sumpin’,” Jackson said. “You know Perry don’t know Martin Lane from John Henry.”
At least I broke into her house, I thought. At least she will feel some discomfort.
I WAS ANGRY AT PRETTY for being like me. She was showing her man the door because she couldn’t control her
