“What’s up, Black?” Stark asked and shook my hand. He led me in the back so we could talk privately.
“There’s something I need your help with.”
“Me?” he actually seemed excited about the fact that I was coming to him for help. “What can I do to help you? Fuck that, as much shit as I come to you with, whatever it is, you just say it and it’s done.”
“Nothin’ for you to do. I just need some information about Cash Money and Mylo.”
“What about them?”
“You know Mylo’s real name was Clint Harris and he was DEA?”
“Yeah, it was on the news when they found his body.”
“Did you know that Cash knew him by his real name?”
Stark sat up straight. “No, I didn’t know that.” It took a second or two before the implications of that revelation hit him. “That means that Cash knew he was DEA.”
“That’s what I wanted to ask you about. First off, did you know?”
“No,” Stark said quickly and looked around the room. “I swear ’fore God, I didn’t know nothin’ ’bout that.”
“I didn’t think you did, but I had to ask and see your face when you answered.”
“Where did you hear that Cash knew who Mylo really was?”
“I have my sources.”
“Can’t be nobody but CeCe.” Stark looked at me for a second. “Mind if I ask you a personal question?”
“You want to know if I trust her.”
“Do you?”
“I haven’t decided yet. Any reason you know of that I shouldn’t?”
“No. Not really. I guess I’m just not a trustin’ muthafucka, that’s all. I’ll say one thing for her, when Cash got smoked she was smart enough to get Cash’s stash out of that apartment before the cops got there.”
“I heard that too. You know who she sold it to?”
“Me.”
I already knew that, I just wanted to see if he would tell me. “That’s what I thought.” I stood up and walked to the window and looked out. “No, I haven’t decided whether I trust CeCe or not, but whether I do or not, I still need to know what the deal was with that and how it ties into some other shit I got goin’.”
“What’s that?”
I didn’t answer him ’cause my business with Vinnelli was none of his fuckin’ business.
“You know, now that I’m thinkin’ ’bout it, the first time Birdie introduced us to Mylo, Cash did say that he thought he knew him from somewhere.”
“Yeah, Cash knew he was DEA.”
“What you gonna do now?”
“I don’t know,” I said ’cause I didn’t. “But if I need you to do something for me, I need to know if I can count on you.”
“Whatever you need, Black.”
I shook Stark’s hand and left the building with Kevon. Cash definitely knew who Mylo really was. That’s why Mylo hit Cash first. The logical thing would have been to takeout Stark first. That would have sent The Commission in disarray. As we drove away from there I thought about what I was gonna do next. I needed to talk to somebody who could tell me more about Vinnelli, and knew exactly who that was.
Chapter 22
Nick Simmons
I woke up the next morning to the sound of my cell phone ringing. I didn’t know what time it was, but whatever it was, it was too damn early. When the phone stopped, the doorbell started, and then my cell started ringing again. “Okay, I get it; you’re at the door,” I said loud and to nobody. I rolled out of bed and grabbed the phone. “What?”
“Come open the door.”
It was Black. I looked at the clock. It was ten ’til ten. What the fuck was he doin’ up, first of all; and here so early? I opened the door for Black and Kevon.
Black came inside wearing a suit and a tie. He hates ties. Kevon nodded his head, turned around, and folded his arms. I closed the door.
When I got in the living room, Black was at the bar making a drink. Kind of early-but what the fuck.
“Pour me one too.”
I sat down and Black brought me my drink. He sat down and smiled. “Did I wake you up?”
“Yeah, yeah you did,” I said and laughed a little.
“I know it’s early, but shit, I’m up. You might as well be up too.”
“Thanks.” I raised my glass and drained it.
“I’m gonna be busy the rest of the day and I wanted to talk to you. See how things are going.”
“Last night I talked to Howard.”
“You get that thing straight for him?”
“I sent Jap and Kenny to get his fifty back from the construction guy, Charles Watson, but he ducked out on them. Now he’s got another problem.”
“What now?”
“He said a couple of nights ago his brother was forced into the limo at gunpoint by three men. They beat him pretty bad and dumped him out of the car.”
“He all right?”
“Howard says he’s in the hospital, but he’ll be all right. But last night somebody took a shot at him. Howard walked into the lobby of his building and somebody was waitin’ there pointin’ a.38. Howard ducked and the bullet grazed his right shoulder. Since he went down from the impact, the shooter thought he was dead. But Howard saw the guy get into a black Lexus. He recognized the car. Thinks it belongs to a guy that works for Watson. His name is Clay Barksdale.”
“This nigga wanna play gangster?” Black laughed.
“Looks that way.”
“What’d you tell him?”
“Don’t worry about it. That he should go on with his business like this wasn’t happenin’.”
“Good.” Black finished his drink and put the glass down. “Anything else I need to know about?”
“No, everything else is smooth. What do you want me to do about Charles Watson?”
“It’s your house to run, handle it however you think you should. But if you’re askin’ for my advice, I think you should handle it personally and as violently as possible.”
“Establish myself.”
“Make sure people know who you are and things ain’t no different. But do it in a way that leaves us an opportunity to cut into his construction company.”
“I’ll take care of it, but I got a question. What exactly am I establishing myself as? What I’m askin’ is, are we stayin’ in or am I overseeing us getting out?”
“That’s entirely up to you. We’re moving to be more legitimate, but as long as we’re making money, I see absolutely no reason to give up that money. So what I’m tellin’ you is this, it’s your house to run as long as you want to and as long as you make us money.”
Black looked at me for what seemed like a long time. Then he stood up and went to the bar. I thought that he was thinking about the best way for me to do what he wanted done.
“Do you remember when you used to run that crap game?” he asked while he poured.
I had no idea where he was goin’ with this. “What were we, sixteen, seventeen then?”
“Something like that.”
“Made a lot of money runnin’ that game.”
