“Because Black first thought that they killed his wife.”
“And you’re sure about that? Not sure enough to make an arrest, but sure that’s why Black killed or had them killed?”
“I’ll go along with that. Yeah, I’m sure about that,” Richards answered confidently.
“How come?”
“Because that’s what the talk was at the time and why these asshole got together in the first place.”
“My point is, what we’re not hearing is a reason why Black would be out to kill these guys. And don’t give me that crap about him hating all drug dealers. Him and Chilly coexisted for years before Nick killed him. But that wasn’t business; Simmons was fuckin’ Chilly’s wife. No, Pat, I’m not buying it. But like I said, Black is staying out in Rockland County with Bobby Ray and his wife. We can take a ride out there and on the way you can tell me what his motive is, ’cause that’s the first thing Black is gonna ask you.” Kirk picked up his folk and shoved food in his mouth. “Hey, maybe we’ll get lucky and Wanda will be there and you can explain your motive to her.”
“You’re the one with the thing for her,” Richards said. “But I ain’t mad at you about it.”
“From what everybody tells us, Freeze has been running things quietly and that Black hasn’t been seen or heard from much since his wife was murdered. You know as well as I do that he’s obsessed with finding her killer. Unless something happened to change that, these four punks wouldn’t even be on his radar. And if there was something going on, we’d have heard about it by now.”
“What else we got?”
“Nothing,” Kirk said. “We have everything to gain and nothing to lose by talking to him.”
“Then it’s settled. We talk to Stark and then we ride out to see Black,” Richards said and Kirk agreed.
As Richards turned onto Stark’s street, Kirk glanced in his side-view mirror and noticed that the young lady standing on the corner talking on her cell phone, was now using that cell to take a picture of their car. “Slow down, Pat. I wanna see how they're set up here,” Kirk instructed.
“You got it. Slow and steady,” Richards said and allowed the car to coast down the street.
“Go around again then park.”
“Yes, sir,” Richards said and complied with his partner’s request. He drove around the block and came down the street again and parked the car down the street from Stark’s building. The stunt had the desired effect, as four of Stark’s men approached the car.
“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say he’s home this time,” Richards said and started to get out of the car.
“Wait,” Kirk said quickly and grabbed his arm. “Wait for them to get here.”
Just before they got to the car, Kirk and Richards got out with their badges visible. “Is there a problem, gentlemen?” Richards asked and the men stopped.
“No problem officer,” one said and the others scattered.
“Not so fast,” Richards said and walked up on the closest one to him. “Why don’t you take us to your scout master?”
“I don’t know what you talkin’ ’bout.”
“Whatever,” Richards said and shoved him toward the building. “Go on.”
Kirk and Richards were escorted into Stark’s apartment, and after waiting five minutes with four of his men, Stark came into the living room and sat down.
“I’m detective Richards and this is detective Kirkland.”
“If you gentlemen don’t mind, can I see your credentials, please?” Stark asked and the detectives complied. “Can’t be too careful, you know what I mean. Now, what can I do for you?”
“We wanted to ask you some questions about a couple of murders,” Richards began.
“You gonna have to be more specific than that,” Stark said and smiled. “People get killed around here all the time.”
“Look, this can go any way you want it to,” the young detective started, but Kirk held up one hand.
“Steven Blake and Kevin Murdock. Anything you can tell me about that?” Kirk asked.
“Can’t help you with that, sorry.”
“Really?” Kirk said and scratched his head. “Seems to me that help is exactly what you need.”
“What you talkin’ ’bout?” Stark asked.
“Let’s cut the shit, shall we?” Kirk said.
“Let’s,” Stark said.
“Cash Money and K Murder were members of The Commission, which by the way, you’re chairman of. The two of them were murdered, and from what I can see, you have the appearance of a man who’s trying to avoid the same fate,” Kirk said.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Well, let’s see; first there’s the girl taking pictures of every car that comes down the street and the two on the far corner. Then there’s the four goon welcoming committee outside the building. There are two men in the lobby and another four in the hallway. Two at the elevator and one at each of the stairwells.” Kirk looked over at Richards. “Did I miss anybody?”
Richards glanced around the room. “Other than these four assholes, no, I think you got them all.”
“Understand now?”
Stark didn’t answer.
“Now, like I was saying, Cash Money and K Murder were murdered and seems to me that you’re expecting somebody to come after you. So, who’d you guys piss off?”
“I’m sorry to hear about Cash and K, I really am. But I can’t help you. Maybe they got into something that flipped on them and that’s why they’re dead, but it ain’t got shit to do with me,” Stark said.
“You ever hear of a guy named Mike Black?” Richards asked.
“Sure. What about him?”
“Ever met him?”
“Not personally, but I’ve seen him around.”
“What do think of him?”
“Got nothin’ but respect for the man. It’s dangerous not to respect Mike Black.”
“The way I hear it, you commissioners got together ’cause you were afraid of Black.”
“I don’t know who you're talkin’ to, but I ain’t scared of no man,” Stark boasted.
Richards looked around the room again. “Yeah, I see why.”
Kirk took out a business card and stood up. “If you think of anything that might be helpful, whatever that might be, give me a call,” the detective said and left Stark’s apartment.
Once they were in the car, Richards turned to Kirk. “What do you think?”
“Even if I don’t believe that Black is involved, Stark does, and he doesn’t plan on being next. So let’s go talk to Black; see what he’s got to say.”
“It will definitely be more entertaining than this guy,” Richards commented and drove off.
Chapter Twenty
Mike Black
I miss you, Cassandra.
I miss her so much sometimes I can hardly breathe.
I miss everything about her.
I waited my whole life to feel for somebody the way I felt for Cassandra, and now she’s dead.
I miss her smile and the way her eyes would dance when she would see me. I miss long conversations about nothing in particular; I just miss talkin’ to her.
I long to feel her head against my chest, and feel the warmth of her body next to mine. I wanna share a meal with her and wonder why it always takes her so long to order. Maybe ’cause she was too busy talkin’ instead of looking at the menu. But I love her anyway.
