view consisted of a succession of garage doors and high gates, the houses shoulder to shoulder as though they were trying to hide the whole Pacific Ocean.
“Sometimes I don’t think anybody ought to be able to own something like that—put something up so he can see the ocean, but nobody else can,” said Irena.
“I wouldn’t say that if I were you,” said Ariana. “You know who owns a house here.”
Irena sighed.
“Okay, Manco,” said Ariana. “We’re almost there. When we go by it, you’ve got to hang a U-turn and pull forward to stop in front of the garage. There’s no other place for a car.”
“Okay, but watch for cops.”
“See the big white place up there, the one that’s about three stories?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s it. Now go past. Turn around. There. Nice. Now pull up there.”
Kapak stopped the car, looked into the rearview mirror to be sure nothing was coming in the right lane, and then got out and stood at the back of his car and watched the two girls get out. He studied their bodies closely while they weren’t aware of it and decided there was no place for a gun on either of them except their purses. When they came closer, Ariana said, “He’s waiting.”
She went to the front door and opened it, and Kapak followed the girls inside. Rogoso came into the foyer from a brightly lighted living room. He was not as tall as Kapak. Although he was at least forty-five, he looked no more than thirty-five years old, with thick dark hair that seemed to sprout from halfway down his forehead, just above his bushy eyebrows. He wasn’t smiling.
Kapak said, “Nice house, Rogoso. How are you?” and held out his hand.
Rogoso kept his hands at his sides. “I’m not happy, Kapak.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve been hearing all kinds of stuff about what’s going on with you.”
“What?”
“This Joe Carver guy is robbing you blind and killing your men, and you’re too scared to go to the bank to move money around, and there’s a police lieutenant downtown making a full-time job out of watching you.”
“Who told you that?”
“Everybody!” he shouted. “Every-fucking-body!” He spoke more softly. “The whole town knows all about it like they were all there at the time and saw you get robbed, and people are saying that you’re too old to do this anymore. That you’re weak.”
Kapak laughed. “I don’t feel weak. Do you want to arm-wrestle?”
“Don’t be stupid.”
“Well, none of my men has been killed. One of them got clipped by a ricochet off the sidewalk. It was a girl just firing wild all over the place, and she managed to get him a flesh wound down by his calf with like ten shots. He’ll be fine. I got lots of other guys. And Joe Carver is nothing. There are guys like him all the time. Always have been. They come from some unknown place that they’re goddamn glad to get out of, and they show up here and cause trouble for a little while, and then it gets too hot for them and they go away. I’m putting some pressure on him right now, and he’ll either turn up or go someplace else. Don’t worry. He can’t hurt you. He doesn’t even know about you.”
“But he’s got the cops watching you all the time.”
“Not really. I just drove out here, and your girls can tell you that nobody followed us.”
He looked at Ariana and Irena, standing a few feet to his right. Their dark, heavily mascaraed eyes watched Rogoso warily, waiting for him to turn to them.
“They’re just a pair of drug mules. What the fuck do they know?”
“Probably more than we do. If they had ever let themselves be followed, they’d be dead or in jail.”
“That’s not proof of anything.” He extended his arm and looked around him. “Take a look at this place. I just bought it a month ago. You know who owned it? Nick Criley.”
“The singer?”
“The fucking legendary singer,” he said. “It cost me eighteen million bones. Do you see what I’m saying, Manco?”
“You have an expensive house.”
“That I’m building an empire. And let’s talk straight here. I’m not a nightclub owner, and I don’t have a few chicks pole-dancing and wiggling their asses to pay my bills. I’ve got over three hundred dealers on the street. If the cops get something on you, they’ll fine you. At the worst, they’d take your liquor license so you’d have to retire. You know what happens if they get me?”
“I didn’t find you and tell you to become a drug dealer. You were already doing everything you’re doing now when I met you.”
“You’re missing the point, Manco. I’m not surprised, because your thinking is old-fashioned, like you were still dancing around a gypsy campfire in some part of Europe that God forgot a thousand years ago. I’m an important man, and that puts me in the center of the target. I can’t have somebody who handles any of my money making this kind of spectacle of himself. You’re attracting little small-time guys to come and steal from you, and that’s a sign that they know you’re weak. And when you try to fight back, you don’t even win. All you do is attract the cops. Alvin, Chuy? Come in here.”
Out of the living room came the two big bodyguards who went everywhere with Rogoso. As always when he’d seen them at night, they both wore lightly tinted shooting glasses to cut the glare from headlights and floodlights, and black sport coats that covered their weapons.
“Hello, Alvin. Chuy.”
The two bodyguards nodded at him and waited in the doorway.
Rogoso said to Kapak, “I’m sorry I have to do this, but you and I can’t do business anymore. You’re too old and soft, and you’re putting everybody in danger. Take him somewhere and get rid of him.”
Kapak had been studying the two girls for the past minute—their exact positions, the clasps on their purses, even their breathing patterns. Kapak’s left hand shot out and grasped Ariana’s thin arm. He tugged her to him, reached around her into her purse, and pulled out her gun. He fired once into the center of Alvin’s chest, twice into Chuy, and pushed Ariana away from him. He was already moving fast into the living room.
Rogoso was only about ten feet ahead of him, sprinting for the staircase. Kapak wasn’t as fast, but he fired once, hitting him in the back. As Rogoso’s dash became an uneven stagger, Kapak ran him down and shot him in the back of the head.
Kapak turned and moved to the wall of the living room, hurrying back toward the foyer. He reached the portal and stopped to listen, then spun around into the open marble space. He fired one round into Chuy’s head and one into Alvin’s. Then he took out his handkerchief and carefully wiped every surface of the gun.
The two girls were cowering in the corner of the room, their eyes wide and their mouths open. “Please don’t,” said Irena.
“I won’t hurt you,” he said. “I wouldn’t have hurt them either. I just couldn’t let them kill me.” He stepped close to Irena so he could watch her expressions. “Is there anybody else in the house?”
“No. He thought he might decide to kill you, and he didn’t want anybody but Chuy and Alvin to be around.”
“Do you know where he kept his books?”
“Books?”
“The papers where he kept track of his business—the money that came in and the money he paid to other people.”
“He would never let us see anything like that,” Ariana said.
“All right. Do you two have a car?”
“No.”
“Those two cars along the highway in front of mine. Whose are they?”
“Alvin’s is the black BMW.”
Kapak stepped to the spot where Alvin’s body lay on its back, bent over, reached into the jeans pocket, and produced a set of keys. He tossed them to Irena. “I’ll give you two ten minutes to get as far from here as you can. If you ever say anything about this to anyone, you’ll have to die too.”
