Blue Belle - Andrew Vachss [116]
"Spell it out—what do I get?"
"The shooter comes to the massage parlor. I talk to him. He turns over this other guy I want. We dump the shooter anyplace you say. The Ghost Van goes up in smoke. And you find everything you need to take Sally Lou down."
"This other guy …What if it doesn't work out?"
"I got one more deal. One more piece. You and me take a walk over to that brown Pontiac. The one I came out of. There's a girl sitting in the front seat. You take a good long look at her. Whatever happens, you make sure she walks away. In exchange, I leave you a letter. With everything in it. The Ghost Van, the shooter, this karate–freak, the shooting in the Chelsea playground, Sally Lou."
"And I let the girl walk?"
"She'll be the one mailing you the letter. Enough for a dozen cases."
"Let's take a look," he said.
141
WE STROLLED to the Pontiac. I motioned for Belle to roll down her window.
"This is Detective McGowan, NYPD," I told her. She didn't take her hands out of her lap. "He's the one you're going to mail that letter to, okay?"
"Okay." No expression on her face.
We walked back to McGowan's car. Morales was halfway across the parking lot. McGowan waved him in.
"One more thing," I said.
"What now?"
"You know Morelli? The reporter?"
"Sure."
"He gets it first. Exclusive. He'll take care of you."
"And your people."
I nodded.
"Okay," he said.
Morales joined us. "Take a walk with me," McGowan said. "I'll fill you in."
I went back to the Pontiac, let myself in, watched McGowan and Morales standing by the pay phone on the pier.
"Good girl."
"What's in this letter I'm supposed to mail?"
"A free pass—I'll tell you later."
I watched McGowan pick up the phone. He talked for a couple of minutes. Stood where he was. Picked up the phone again. Talked some more. Waved.
"Be right back," I told Belle.
I walked up to McGowan. "Call the pimp," he said.
142
MARQUES WAS on his car phone. Answered it himself.
"You know who this is?"
"Yeah, man. What…"
"The Maiden Lane pier. Now. It's coming down."
"I ain't walking into no…"
"This is a safe place, Marques. The only fucking safe place for you in the city, you don't show up."
I hung up.
McGowan stood on one side of me, Morales close on the other.
"You know Sadie's Sexsational?"
I laughed.
"What's so funny?"
"Girl got beat up there. Real bad, right? So bad the cops moved in, closed it down."
Morales turned to me. "You think that's funny?"
"I think you're funny," I said to McGowan. "You've been running the place ever since, right? That joint doesn't belong to the federales. You called One Police Plaza, not the FBI."
McGowan touched the brim of his hat. "What d'you care?"
"I don't. In fact, that joint is perfect."
"Why?"
"Good location," I told him, eyes flat.
Morales didn't like any of this. His eyes scanned the pier, waiting for the pimp.
"You guys know what to do?" I asked McGowan.
"We'll make it clear to him."
I lit a smoke.
"How you gonna get the shooter into this one massage parlor?" McGowan asked.
"I know what he wants."
143
The Rolls purred into the parking lot.
"That's him," I said.
"We know. Go and get him."
Marques was behind the wheel, Christina next to him.
"Thanks for showing."
"You didn't give me much motherfucking choice."
"Be cool, Marques. Be yourself—show your class. Walk over to the water with me."
"I don't like this."
I leaned in the window. "I wanted you off the count, you'd be in the morgue. You know it, I know it. This is legit. Come on."
He exchanged a look with Christina. Got out of the Rolls. We walked to the water. I couldn't see McGowan or his partner.
"I'm taking over a massage parlor," I said.
"You?"
"Me. And I need some girls. For a couple of weeks."
"You crazy, man."
"I got the van, Marques. I got it pinned to the wall. Start counting that bounty money; it'll be mine soon."
"What's that got to do with…"
"The van didn't move by itself. You wanted it off the street, you think I was gonna give it a flat tire?"
"Look, man…"
"I need the girls. Fill the joint up, make it