He held up one hand, and each man went to his kill and put two more bullets to their heads. They quickly picked up their expended shells and left the apartment.
CeCe came down the hall after her shower, dressed in a white silk robe that hugged her symmetrical body. “What’s all that noise out here?” CeCe asked as she came into the room. She screamed when she saw Cash’s body laying dead on the floor. CeCe screamed again, ran back down the hall, locked the door and called the police when she saw Sly and Palmer both dead on the couch. Palmer’s gun was still in his hand.
It was after dawn and Lieutenant Reyes, head of the crime scene investigation unit, was just finishing up with Detective Sanchez of the narcotics division when Detectives Kirkland and Richards came into the apartment.
“Morning, Reyes,” Kirk said.
“Que pasa, Kirk,” Reyes replied and shook hands with Kirk and Richards.
Kirk turned to Sanchez. “Must be somebody special if it’s got you up this early in the morning, Gene. What we got?”
“The one on the floor is Steven Blake a.k.a. Cash Money. He’s a pretty big player in the game. Word on the street is that he had delusions of grandeur; that he was gonna be the next big thing.” Sanchez told them.
“Don’t look like that’s gonna happen for him,” Richards quipped.
“Any witnesses?”
“We’re canvassing the building, but so far, we got zip,” Sanchez said.
“Who called it in?” Richards asked as Kirk knelt down next to Cash Money’s body.
“Girlfriend. The officers said she was pretty hysterical and had to be taken to the hospital,” Sanchez continued. “She told them that she was in the shower and this is how she found them when she came out.”
“What’s her name?” Kirk asked as he moved on to the couch where the other two bodies were.
Sanchez flipped though his notes. “Name is Cameisha Collins. Drivers license lists this as her address.”
“Which hospital?” Richards asked.
“Montefiore Medical.”
“What happened here, Reyes?” Kirk asked.
“Near as I can tell, the killers kicked in the door and caught them off guard. Looks like Cash Money there was trying to make it to his gun. That’s it on the table. These two never got off a shot.”
“No shit,” Richards said and looked over the bodies on the couch.
“This one had his gun in his hand and the other’s was still in his waist,” Reyes told them. “Very clean job, Kirk. All three took four shots. Two head shots, two in the chest, and from what I could see, the shooters didn’t miss.”
“They didn’t?” Richards questioned and looked over the area where Palmer and Sly’s bodies were.
“One more thing.”
“What’s that, Reyes?”
“I didn’t find a single shell,” Reyes told the detectives as his team prepared to leave the crime scene.
Sanchez took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. “You know what this reminds me of, Kirk?”
“What's that, Gene?” Kirk asked.
“You remember back in the good old days. We worked a crime scene just like this.” Sanchez went and stood over Cash’s body. “Nobody got off a shot; shooters didn’t miss, one witness.”
Kirk walked over and faced Sanchez. “Mike Black.”
“See, that’s what I like about you, Kirk; walking cop encyclopedia.”
“So, is this like, classified, or can we all learn from the master?” Reyes asked.
“Vincent Martin,” Kirk said.
“Never heard of him,” Richards replied.
“Before your time, Pat. Maybe twelve years ago,” Kirk told his partner
“I keep telling you, Kirk, you could teach the kid some history. It’ll make him a better cop,” Sanchez said.
“You tryin’ to say I ain’t a good cop?” Richards asked and started walking toward Sanchez before Kirk stepped in front of him.
Sanchez held up his hands in surrender. “Easy, big man. I’m just sayin’, history has a way of repeating itself.”
“Just tell the story,” Reyes said. “You know these old guys love to tell their stories.” He patted Richards on the back a few times and that seemed to settle him down.
“It started after Andre was killed. Andre Hammond, you have heard of him?” Sanchez began, but Richards interrupted him.
“Is this another Mike Black story?”
“You ain’t know?” Reyes added.
“See, I did teach the kid something,” Kirk said.
“So I won’t bore you with the details of the war that went on after Black got out the drug game. Anyway, before Chilly made peace with Black. The story goes that Black killed Jimmy Knowles and Charlie Rock. Vincent Martin went hard at Black until one night Black caught Martin and his whole crew slippin’. They were all at Martin’s house chillin' just, like these guys.”
“Yeah, but there must have been eight, ten guys in there,” Kirk added, pointing out the difference in the murder scene.
“Make a long story short, Black, Bobby and Mr. Freeze busted in, killed everybody, except one guy.”
“Why they leave a witness?” Reyes needed to know.
“To deliver a message to Chilly that he was next. After that, the war was over,” Sanchez said and took a little bow.
“So you think Black did this?” Richards asked.
“I’m just sayin’ there are some similarities, that’s all.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think so, Gene. Black’s been off the grid since his wife was murdered,” Kirk said.
“Good story though,” Reyes said and left the scene.
“Come on, Pat, let’s get some breakfast. Sanchez is buying,” Kirk said and headed for the door.
“I am?” Sanchez said and followed him out.
“It’ll give you a chance to tell some more stories,” Richards said and watched as the bodies were bagged.
Chapter Seven
“Wake up, Bobby!” Black said while shaking Bobby.
“Huh?” Bobby replied as he opened his eyes.
“Wake up. Let’s get the fuck outta here, man.”
Bobby began to stir in his chair. “Where you wanna go, Mike?”
“I don’t give a fuck. I just need to get outta here.”
“What about Michelle,” Bobby asked about Mike’s year old daughter.
“I already talked to Pam. She’s gonna watch her. Come on, man, get up and let’s go.”
Thirty minutes later, after Bobby finally got himself together, they were on their way to the Bronx. As they got closer to the city, Bobby again asked where Black wanted to go. “Let me use your phone,” was Black’s only reply.
“No. Why don’t you get your own fuckin’ phone?” Bobby asked.
“I don’t like them.”
“Oh, but you don’t mind usin’ them mutha fuckas.”
“I don’t like being that accessible.”
Bobby handed Black the phone. “Usin’ up all my minutes.”
“Damn, Bob, you want me to give you a fuckin’ quarter?” Black said as he dialed. “Shit, you so fuckin’ cheap.”
