Wrong, but this was no time for a law lecture.
“I’m just a lawyer, Barry. In fact, I’m a defense lawyer. I sometimes defend the people you’re concerned about protecting.”
“Oh, well, that’s a horse of a different hue. What do you need?”
“I figure there’s a clique within that club that’s dealing drugs big-time. I think my client, Anthony Bradley, was the head of it. My intuition tells me that numero dos is a slick little dude named Abdul. How am I doing?
“Um. I might have heard words to that effect. Nothing for the record.”
“That’s close enough, Barry. Could it be that you’ve dealt with Anthony or this Abdul on the odd occasion?”
“Without recalling anything specific, stranger things could have happened. Not with Bradley. Possibly with Abdul. Notice the use of the legal word, ‘possibly.’”
“You’re a paragon of caution, Barry. Could you give me a couple of other names you’ve ‘possibly’ dealt with in that little circle?”
He sucked in heavily what passed for air in that room and moaned, “Wow. I don’t know.”
“C’mon, Barry. We’re just talking possibilities here. Nothing incriminating.”
“Merely in the realm of possibility, could we say Tony Mazzarelli? We might consider the name of Rolf Samuelson.”
“That’ll do it, Barry. Here’s the punch line. I need to know for sure about Anthony Bradley. It’s an important piece. What I want you to do is call Abdul. Set up a meet someplace neutral. Make it that restaurant across from the T station in the square. Tell him someone from the Chinatown connection has some wonton soup they want to dispose of. Will you do it?”
He popped a cigarette between his lips-this time legitimate, Marlboro. He held the pack out to me. I shook my head.
“You don’t even use these, Mike? Damn, what gets you through the day?”
“Willpower. What do you think, Barry? Will you do it?”
“See, I suspect that I’m cutting off a source here, Mike. You said I should take better care of myself. That’s not taking care of myself.”
“That’s not exactly what I meant, Barry. Besides, you can’t tell me that after all these years you don’t know every source from here to Chelsea.”
“You raise a legitimate point.”
I detected a crumbling. “I really need this one, Barry.”
He pulled over a phone and peered at the numbers he was hitting through a white cloud of Marlboro fumes rising from the stick between his lips. There was a pickup after three rings.
“Yeah, is Abdul there?”
There was a slight pause before even I could hear a voice crackling in rap rhythm from the other end.
“Hey, my man, Abdul. I’m just a conveyor here. I got a call from a dude says he’s from Chinatown. Says he has some wonton soup to peddle. I don’t know who he is. He wants to set up a meet.”
There was another pause before Abdul spoke. Barry answered him.
“This dude says he wants you meet him in the restaurant across from the T station in the square. The sooner, the quicker.”
Barry gave me the nod, yes. I flashed him the OK sign and mouthed the words “Booth in the back.” On my way out, I could hear Barry relaying the message.
I reached the corridor and took a deep breath. It cleared the light-headedness that was beginning to set in.
In four minutes, I was behind the sports section of the Globe in a booth halfway to the back of the restaurant. In another five minutes, I heard the bopping rhythm of Abdul’s sneakers pass me on the way to a vacant booth at the very back. At ten thirty in the morning, there was no one else in that section.
I slid out of the booth and came around from behind Abdul. I slid in beside him before he could do anything but sputter jive. I turned off the flow and calmed him down by somehow getting enough words in to convince him I was there on business. He was trapped, but listening.
What I needed was to solidify a piece of the puzzle in my own mind. Were any members of the student organization into drug distribution at the university, and more to my purpose, was Anthony the point man dealing with Kip Liu and the tong for supplies? I was going on the Lex Devlin theory that you can best serve your client in a criminal case if you know the truth-the whole truth-and Anthony himself had perhaps not been a fund of that commodity.
“Abdul, you know whom I represent. Are we clear on that?”
His nervous brow was furrowed, but he gave me a slight, quizzical nod.
“Good. Then some business needs tending. There’s a concern that you must be getting low on supplies. There’s also a concern about interrupting the flow, losing customers. Not good for business.”
He was soaking up every word, but there was no reaction. He was also not saying that he hadn’t the foggiest idea of what I was talking about.
“My client had me make contact with the man where they sell the wonton soup. He’s also concerned. My client may be out of service for a while, maybe permanently. Contacts would dry up unless someone takes the reins. My client says you’re the man to take over the top spot. He thinks you’re ready to go from Indian to chief.”
Nothing. He was still looking. He was still not talking. I had to get a confirmation in my own mind about Anthony’s connection.
“The question, Abdul, is are you up to it? Behind all that bopping jive, is there a businessman who can handle a serious operation? Needless to say, the position carries a higher cut.”
The furrows grew deeper, but no words came out.
“Or do we look elsewhere? I’ll tell you right now, you’re not my choice, but my client insists on giving you a chance. Either way, I have to know immediately, because steps have to be taken.”
He just looked from me to the table. I had to jar him loose.
“OK, Abdul. That answers it. The job interview is terminated. You’ll be hearing from the new man.”
I started to move out of the booth when he caught my sleeve.
“Hold on, man. Sit down. I don’t know anything about you.”
I settled back in.
“Well, I’ll tell you, Abdul. You know the one I represent. You know I know about the Chinatown connection. You know I know about the operation here. You’re smart enough to notice that I’m talking to you instead of to the U.S. Attorney. Maybe that tells you something. If it doesn’t, so be it. You’re out. I meet with a new contact, and you go on being a flunky. I’m happy either way. The only option I don’t have is to waste time. There’s a kettle of wonton soup waiting to be delivered.”
The look on his face said the wall was cracking. One last thrust.
“Last chance, Abdul, I’m no dentist. I’m through pulling teeth here. We talk, or I walk. Call it. I have to get word to my client.”
I gave a little move-out body language, and he grabbed my elbow again.
“All right. I’m in. Tell Anth… your client. I’m the man. I just gotta be careful.”
That locked it shut. Now I knew. Whether or not Anthony pulled the trigger on Mr. Chen, he was no choirboy. While I was at it, I decided to work the mine a bit further.
“Careful is good. Careful is what keeps the operation going.” I checked my watch. “Let’s get this done, and I’m out of here.”
I leaned in for the kill.
“How well do you know the operation?”
“I know it. I been around since right after… your client got in it.”
“That doesn’t tell me anything. Our friend wants me to be sure you can handle it. Who are the contacts on campus?”
He pulled back and looked around.
“I’m not gonna’ say it out loud.”
“There’s no one here but us chickens, Abdul. In case you missed the point, this is a quiz. Before I put you in touch with Chinatown, you’ve got to convince me that you’ve got control of the operation. Point one, I want to hear
