“Hey, Jeff!” I started. “What’re you doing here?”
The shaggy-haired kid looked nervous.
“Hey, man,” he said. “I’m glad you recognized me.”
“How did you get up here?” I asked, thinking about my ultra-protective-security, my landlady.
Jeff said, “There was an old woman outside cleaning up stuff and I told her I was your friend.”
“And she let you in?” I said. I must have a word with her.
“Can I come in?” he said.
I glanced back at the apartment and then said, “Sure. Come in.”
He entered but leaped back, almost hitting the wall, when he saw Michael Jordan. “Oh, it’s only cardboard,” he said, laughing.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” I said.
I led him to the sofa, where he sat down.
I offered him a drink but he declined.
I sat opposite him.
“What happened to you?” he said.
I touched my stuffed nose, “Long story.”
He rubbed his hands nervously and seemed to be shaking.
I said, “I don’t remember giving you my address at the club.”
“I looked you up in the phone directory,” he replied.
“Right, right,” I said, nodding. “What can I do for you?”
“You’re a cop, right?”
I nodded, slowly. “You could say that.”
He seemed relieved. “Good, then I’m safe.”
“Safe from what?” I said.
“Do these walls have ears,” he said.
“Um…I don’t think so. But if you talk loud enough my landlady downstairs will hear you.”
“Then I’ll talk quietly,” he said, lowering his voice. “I’m in serious trouble.”
I listened.
“I can’t say right now from who but if I get protection, like those victim protection programs, then I’ll tell you everything.”
“Jeff, you have to first tell me why you are in trouble.”
He lowered his head and stared at his fingers. “My name is not Jeff. It’s Joseph Lenard.”
“Okay, Joseph.”
“Joey.”
“Okay, Joey,” I said. “Why are you in trouble?”
“There is…” he searched for the right words. “This group that is very dangerous.”
I listened.
“They are trying to make-no, they are in the process of completing this drug.”
“RACE,” I blurted.
“Who?”
“RACE,” I said. “I mean, Radical Association of Criminal Ethnicities.”
“No,” he shook his head. “I think you’re confusing it with something else. But this group is working on this drug-”
“Nex?” I said.
His eyes widened and he said, “Yes. You do know?”
I immediately picked up the phone.
“No, don’t,” he said grabbing at it. “Please listen to me first.”
His hand was on top of mine.
“There is a mole inside the force,” he said.
“A mole?”
“Yes, someone was feeding information to us.”
“Do you know who it is?”
“No.”
“Don’t worry, I’m calling my partner,” I said.
“Can you trust him?”
I thought about it. I hadn’t known Beadsworth long, but he was the only one I could call right now.
“Yes.”
Joey released my hand and I called Beadsworth.
Beadsworth was in my apartment in less than half an hour. He eyed Joey suspiciously. Joey stared at his fingers. Beadsworth sat across from him and unbuttoned his jacket.
I said to Joey, “Tell him what you told me.”
Joey coughed. “I need protection,” he said, not looking up.
“From whom?” Beadsworth said.
“I can’t say that right now. I need a guarantee first that I will be protected. The people I was working for are making a drug that’s bigger than anything…it’s going to be bigger than Ecstasy.”
“Nex,” Beadsworth said.
“Yes,” Joey said.
“Do they have the drug?”
“Yes.”
Beadsworth went silent. He was mulling over something in his mind. “Where can we find these people you worked for?”
“Not so fast,” Joey said, waving his hands in the air. “First, my protection.”
“I can’t give you that,” Beadsworth said.
Joey and I both looked at him.
“Why not?” I said.
“But I know someone who can.”
“Who?”
“Sergeant Aldrich.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said.
“Can you trust him?” Joey asked.
“Yeah, can
Beadsworth’s face went pale. “Do you know who it is?”
Joey shook his head.
Beadsworth said slowly, “Sergeant Aldrich is in charge and our superior. It is our duty to inform him of this situation.”
Joey nodded, understanding.
“Why are you helping us?” Beadsworth inquired.
“My life is in danger. I’m no longer needed. If I stayed they would kill me.”
“All right,” Beadsworth said. “Let me see if I can arrange something.” He got up and headed for the door. I followed.
“Watch over him,” he said.
With that he left.
With Beadsworth gone I was left with Joey. He massaged his hands while examining the interior of my apartment. There wasn’t much to look at. The walls were adorned with old picture frames that I’d picked up from yard sales. They looked antique so I bought them. The previous tenant had left behind the sofa. After much
