Authors: Simon Wood
T
he motherfucker was late. The situation stank.
Reward, my ass.
Vee8 had been keeping up with the news since Chaudhary had offed himself, to see if the cops had linked him and his crew to the Indian’s death. They hadn’t. They hadn’t even pieced together that he’d stolen the car. Their prevailing theory was that Chaudhary had gotten caught up in a fender bender with Mr. Law-Abiding Citizen, who’d driven off when Chaudhary walked into the ocean. Christ. Cops. No wonder they’d never caught him.
Just as he thought the heat was off, he’d caught the appeal on the radio. Chaudhary’s employers were interested in talking to the driver who’d called 911 and they were offering a reward for any information. No questions asked. No police involvement.
He hadn’t known what to do at first. This could be a sting op on behalf of the cops, but it didn’t read that way. Besides, that was entrapment or some such bullshit that would have the shittiest of lawyers springing him from lockup before he’d have to take his first piss in a stainless-steel john.
So he’d called. He talked to the boss man of Marin Design Engineering. He didn’t sound like a cop—far too clueless—so he stayed on the line. By the sounds of it, he wasn’t the only one to call in. The leeches out there in Shitville had tried for a slice of the action. He was required to answer a bunch of questions. Obviously, he’d answered right, because they wanted him to come in to talk.
Yeah. Like he had “loser” written on his forehead. Precautions were necessary. And a little sumthin’, sumthin’ for his expertise.
“Not so fast, Mr. Bellis. We need to discuss a few details.”
“Like what?”
“How much green for my assistance?”
“It depends on if the information is valuable.”
Bellis was a shitty poker player. He paused for effect, but he answered too fast and without objection. This cow was for the milking. Vee8 guessed there was a grand in it for him. He’d have to split it with Donkey and the boys, but they’d be busting a nut for a hundred.
“My information will be valuable.”
“Could you come in at six tonight?”
“Nah, nah, nah. It don’t work that way. You meet me. You want something from me, you come to me.”
“OK. Where?”
“Where” was Franklin and Sixteenth in Oakland. He wanted this discussion in the open and somewhere he knew. If the meet went sideways, he wanted escape routes. Also he wanted a witness and backup. Donkey had his back. He was a block away on the roof of a shitty apartment building with a camera. Vee8 nodded up at him. He got a Black Power fist salute in reply.
He’d moved the time back to nine to jar Bellis out of his comfort zone. Broadway was a ghost town at that time of night. Bellis would have the jitters. Good. The money would come quicker if his mind was on leaving as soon as possible. But it was Vee8 who had the jitters. It was nine thirty. He felt the gaze of unseen eyes burning into him. He smelled setup. Cops had the place sealed off. He was screwed. They didn’t have shit on him, but that wasn’t the point. He wasn’t in their system. He would be if they lifted him now. All that went to the wall if he walked. Pick up BART and go home.
A midnight-blue Dodge Charger ground to an elegant halt in front of him. It was one of the new breed, not one of the classics. It was nice enough, but the idea of a Charger with four doors seemed wrong to Vee8.
The passenger window slid down with an electronic burr. The driver leaned across the passenger seat. “Vee8?”
“Yeah,” Vee8 answered, but he didn’t approach the driver. He hadn’t met Bellis, but this guy wasn’t him. The prick looked like a cop for a start and one who hit the gym instead of the donuts. Bellis’s voice had shaken during their talk on the phone, but not this guy. He was confident.
“Get in the car.”
“You ain’t Bellis.”
“No. He sent me.”
“And who are you?”
“No one to get spooked over.”
Like shit, Vee8 thought. “You a cop? If you are and you lie, you’ve got nothing.”
“I’m not a cop. I work for Mr. Bellis. I’ve got your money. I just need to know what you saw.”
A grand sounded good, but not that good. Bellis had crossed him. Fuck him, then. He walked away from the Dodge toward Sixteenth and the BART station.
Dodge Man jumped on the gas and rolled down the street with him. “Hey, what’s the problem here?”
“You, motherfucker,” Vee8 answered without stopping. “I expected Bellis because Bellis told me he was coming. I don’t like liars.”
“OK, OK, he should have told you, but it doesn’t change anything. We need your information and we’ll pay for it.”
Vee8 kept on walking. He liked making this prick squirm. Muscles didn’t equal brains. Work, dumb motherfucker, work.
“Look, I’ll give you two hundred bucks now. Even if you don’t have anything that helps, that’s yours for coming out tonight. Is that enough of an apology for you?”
Vee8 stopped. “No. Two hundred isn’t enough. Make it five and you’re forgiven.”
Dodge Man stopped. He snorted and shook his head before pulling out his wallet. He removed the five one-hundred-dollar bills and held them out to Vee8.
Five hundred for just talking. How much were these bitches going to pay him? Chaudhary had to have been into something. He remembered the Indian’s jumble of words as he walked into the water. Something about doing something so terrible he couldn’t be forgiven. Vee8 almost smiled thinking about how much he was going to take this son of a bitch for.
He reached through the open window to the take the cash. Dodge Man didn’t release his grip on the money.
“So, you do know something then?”
“I know plenty, so lose the attitude.”
Dodge Man still didn’t release his grip on the money.
“This is beginning to look a little queer.”
“Get in.”
“Nah, dude. We talk in the open.”
“You want this money, you get in the car.”
He glanced over at Donkey on the rooftop. He still had his back covered. Donkey had a car stashed on Fifteenth. He’d be all over this prick before he’d gotten two blocks.
“You win, tough guy,” Vee8 said and got into the car. He took the cash, but before he could pocket it, Dodge Man wound the Charger’s engine up. “Hey, where we going?”
“Somewhere we can talk without drawing flies.”
Vee8 glanced into the door mirror on his side for Donkey. He didn’t see him. Fantastic. The douche bag had fallen at the first fence. Well, if the son of a bitch didn’t have his back, then he didn’t get a cut.
He looked over at Dodge Man. He didn’t like him. Didn’t trust him. His jitters intensified, but he took comfort from the switchblade in his sock.
“So what’s the deal with this Chaudhary guy?” he asked to take the edge off.
“He was very special to the organization. That makes you special to the organization, seeing as you were last to see him alive. So you want to tell me about what happened that night?”
Dodge Man stayed on Broadway and picked up 880 toward Alameda. The guy knew how to drive and he wasn’t frightened to show it. Vee8 wondered if this was for his benefit. Either way, the sound of the six cylinder working hard relaxed him.
“I jacked a Five Series out of El Cerrito and it was time to ditch it. I was heading somewhere quiet when your man, Chaudhary, came out of nowhere and T-boned us.”
“Us?”
Fuck, he cursed himself. “Yeah, I was with my crew, but fuck them, I was driving.”
Dodge Man said nothing.
“OK, I didn’t know he was on a mission and I chased him. He’d fucked up my night and I was going to teach him some manners.”
“And you picked him up on the beach.”
“Yeah. By the time we got down to him, he was ankle-deep in the sea.”
“Ocean.”
“What?”
“He walked into the ocean, not the sea.”
“Who the fuck cares?”
“I do. I require accuracy.”
What a prick, Vee8 thought. He’d better not short him on his money. “OK, ocean.”
“Did you hit him or hurt him in any way?”
Vee8 dropped the bravado. Seeing Chaudhary kill himself like that had given him no pleasure. He hadn’t boasted to anyone about it. He and his crew didn’t mention it after that night. Seeing someone getting fucked up, even dying on the street, was one thing, but Chaudhary was another. There was something creepy in that robotic way he strode out into the water. Vee8 wouldn’t forget it for as long as he lived.
“No, I didn’t hurt him. The guy was in his own world of hurt. I tried to talk him out of it, but he was beyond help.”
“You let him kill himself.”
Vee8 turned to Dodge Man. “Hey, fuck you. You weren’t there. That guy wanted to die. If I tried to stop him, he was taking me with him.”
“OK. Take it easy. What did he say? Word for word.”
It took no effort to remember Chaudhary’s final words. “He said he’d done a terrible thing and he couldn’t be forgiven for it. He had to pay and drowning himself was the only way out.”
“Did he say what it was or why he couldn’t be forgiven?”
Vee8 shook his head. “Whatever it was, I believed him. Whatever it was broke him and there was no turning back in his mind.”
Dodge Man glanced over at Vee8. “He said nothing else. Gave no explanation.”
“That’s it, man. We didn’t get into a major dialogue. I ain’t a therapist.”
Dodge Man nodded, satisfied.
“Can I get my money now?”
“Yeah, sure. Another five hundred OK?”
“Eight would be better.”
Vee8 grinned when Dodge Man didn’t object.
Dodge Man reached inside his jacket and a blackjack came out instead of his wallet. He smashed it across the bridge of Vee8’s nose. Blinding light filled his vision and seared clear though into his brain. He didn’t see the second blow behind his left ear coming or the third that put him out cold.
The chug, chug, chug of a diesel engine vibrating against Vee8’s skull brought him around. The engine throbbed in time with his skull. The boat’s pitch and roll turned his stomach. He sucked in air to clear his head and get his bearings. The Bay Bridge stood off the stern drifting farther away. Headlights glinted from vehicles racing across the double-decker bridge in both directions. He was aboard a small boat, the kind that took tourists out on the bay. He lay on his side on its fiberglass deck, his wrists bound behind him and his ankles shackled together with chains. A length of chain had been looped through his ankle shackles and padlocked in place. The other end of the chain was connected to two steel truck rims sitting on the end of the stern. Realization turned to panic and Vee8 thrashed to get himself free.
“Hey, take it easy,” Dodge Man said. “You keep that shit up, you’re going to send those wheels over the side and it’s over for you.”
“What’s it matter? You’re going to drown me anyway, you fuck.”
Dodge Man tied the wheel off and came over to Vee8. He knelt at Vee8’s side and smiled. “Don’t upset yourself. You’re misreading the situation.”
“What am I fucking missing?” Vee8 squirmed on the deck.
“Consider this an incentive program. I need answers. You give them to me and all is well. Tell me the wrong ones,” he let the alternative hang in the night air, “and you’ll find out how deep the bay really is.”
“People know I’m missing.”
Dodge Man frowned and pushed himself to his feet. He looked about him, taking in the night, before driving his foot into Vee8’s kidneys. Vee8 yelled out and rolled over in pain.
“Don’t try to intimidate me,” Dodge Man said coolly. “It wastes my time.”
Vee8 nodded, but he’d be fucked if he’d apologize. Hopefully, Donkey had gotten the Charger’s license plate or, better still, caught up with them and was standing next to this prick’s Dodge.
“What’s your name?” Dodge Man asked. “Your real name. The one your parents saw fit to give you and you pissed all over. Vee8. Christ, couldn’t you have been original?”
“Tim Devane.” He ground the words out.
“And where do you live, Tim Devane?”
Vee8 told him.
Dodge Man followed up with a bunch of other questions that included his social security number. None of the questions filled him with hope.
“Why do you need to know all this?”
“Because if you’re lying, I’m going to find you. Now, what you told me earlier—Memorex or bullshit?”
“It was the truth, I swear.”
Dodge Man smirked. “You swear. For a godless piece of shit like you, that really adds weight.”
“Fuck you.”
“Yeah, yeah, sticks and stones. You said you and your crew witnessed Chaudhary kill himself.”
“Yeah.”
“I want their names.”
“You don’t need their names.”
Dodge Man put his heel against the rims and shoved. They shifted an inch toward the water.
“OK, OK, I’ll give you their names.”
“I thought you might.”
With a bitter taste on his tongue, he gave Dodge Man Donkey’s, D.J.’s, and Trey’s names and addresses. Dodge Man wrote the names down on a pad and pocketed the notebook.
“Happy now? Got what you wanted?” Vee8 knew to keep his temper in check, but there was only so much bullshit he was going to swallow.
“Just one more question.”
He knelt by Vee8’s side. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a digital camera. Vee8 recognized the camera and turned cold from the inside out.
Dodge Man fiddled with the camera and showed Vee8 a digital image on the camera’s view screen. Vee8 closed his eyes to block out the image of Donkey, his neck swiveled around at an unnatural angle and his eyes open in a dead stare. He knew it was over for him at that point. Tonight was his last on earth. He wasn’t cool with it, but he wasn’t pissing his pants either.
“Who’s this?” Dodge Man asked. “Donkey? D.J.? Trey?”
“Donkey,” he whispered. “You aren’t going to let me go, are you?”
Dodge Man erased the images on the camera and tossed it overboard. He sniffed before answering. “No. This is where we part company.”
Dodge Man hoisted Vee8 into a sitting position. He was careful to avoid getting within head-butting or kicking range. He sat Vee8 on the edge of the stern next to the rims.
“You ready for this?” Dodge Man asked.