The Crucifix Killer - Chris Carter [121]
‘Who wants to know?’
‘A friend.’
The man looked Jerome over from head to toe. Jerome had dressed down, swapping his usual thousand-dollar suit for a regular T-shirt and blue jeans, but he still looked too well dressed for that part of town.
‘What sort of friend?’ the tall man asked, taking a step back.
‘One that can help you,’ Jerome said, pulling a small cellophane bag from his pocket containing some brown powder inside. He watched as the man’s eyes lit up with excitement.
‘What do you want man?’ he asked, still looking skeptical.
‘I want to know if you are Daryl or not.’
‘And if I am, am I gonna get that bag?’
‘Depends if you can tell me what I need to know.’
The tall man stepped closer and Jerome noticed how weak he looked. It was obvious Jerome could simply beat the information out of him at any time.
‘Are you a cop, man?’
‘Do I look like a cop?’ Jerome had always wondered why people would ask that question – as if an undercover cop would just come clean and say ‘Yes, you got me, I’m a cop.’
‘Cops can look like anything these days.’
‘Well, I’m not one. Are you Daryl or not?’
The tall man hesitated for a few more seconds, his eyes fixed on the brown powder bag. ‘Yes, that’s me.’
Oh! The power of bribing, Jerome thought. ‘Good, so now we can talk,’ he said, placing the cellophane bag back in his pocket.
Daryl’s eyes saddened just like a little boy who’d lost his candy. ‘What do you wanna talk about?’
‘Something you know.’
A new doubtful look came over Daryl. ‘And what is it that I’m supposed to know?’
Jerome sensed a hint of hostility in Daryl’s voice. More bribing was needed. ‘Are you hungry? I could certainly use some food and a cup of coffee. There’s a twenty-four-hour cafe just around the corner. How about we go talk in there, I’m buying.’
Daryl hesitated for a second before nodding. ‘Yeah, coffee and food would be nice.’
They walked in silence, Daryl always two steps in front of Jerome. They reached the empty cafe and sat at a table at the back. Jerome ordered some coffee and pancakes and Daryl a double cheeseburger with fries. Jerome took his time with his food, but Daryl devoured his.
‘Would you like another one?’ Jerome asked as soon as Daryl was done. Daryl finished the last of his root beer and let out a loud burp.
‘No thanks. That hit the spot just right. So what is it that you’d like to know?’
Jerome leaned back on his seat looking relaxed. ‘I need information about some people.’
‘People? What kinda people?’
‘The not very nice kind.’
Daryl scratched his bushy beard and then his crooked nose. ‘Everyone I know fits into that category,’ he said with a half smile.
‘From what I heard you don’t really know these people, you just know where I can find them.’
Daryl raised his eyebrows. ‘You gotta tell me more than that, man.’
Jerome leaned forward and placed both hands over the small table. He waited for Daryl to do the same. ‘Do you know what a snuff movie is?’ he whispered.
Daryl jumped back, almost knocking Jerome’s coffee off the table. ‘Fuck that, man. I knew this was bullshit. I know nothing about that.’
‘I’ve heard differently.’
‘Well, you heard wrong. Who the hell told you that?’
‘That’s not important. What is important is that I need to know what you know.’
‘I don’t know nothing, man,’ he said gesticulating aggressively while avoiding Jerome’s eyes.
‘Look, there are two ways we can do this.’ Jerome paused for a second and took out the same cellophane bag he’d shown Daryl earlier. ‘You can tell me what you know and I’ll give you ten of these.’
Daryl shifted his weight on his seat. ‘Ten?’
‘That’s right.’
That was more heroin than he’d ever had. He could even sell some of it and make a small profit. He ran his tongue over his cracked lips nervously. ‘I’m not involved in it, man.’
‘I never said you were. I just need to know what you know.’
Daryl started to sweat. He needed a hit.
‘The people that deal with that shit . . . they are bad motherfuckers, man. If they find out I said something, I’m dead.’
‘Not if I get to them first. You’d