The Darkness - Jason Pinter [12]
worth nearly twenty million dollars. The woman looked
around the place, slightly disappointed that there was no
evidence of his successful rap career in the building. No
The Darkness
37
platinum albums, no framed magazine covers. For what
she had in mind, those trinkets would have made the
ensuing story that much more vivid.
The chains clinked together as the man twitched involuntarily. He constantly licked at his lips and rubbed
his hands together. His eyes were wide, the whites almost
eerie in the gloom. He smiled broadly when they entered.
"Mr. Culvert," Malloy said. "Good to see you again."
LeRoy Culvert stood up. He gripped Malloy's hand
with both of his and shook them energetically. He looked
warily at the two people Malloy was with. The other man
he viewed with skepticism. The woman he eyed with fear.
"Mr. Culvert," the woman said. "Let's talk about
the future."
"Absolutely," LeRoy Culvert said, sitting back down.
The four bodyguards watched, guns at the ready. "Here,
take a seat."
"That's all right," she said. "We'd prefer to keep this
short."
"Whatever you say, ma'am," Culvert said with a laugh.
The man was stoned out of his mind. That was clear. And
the woman knew exactly what drugs he had taken.
"So?" she said. "You've clearly sampled our product.
What do you think?"
LeRoy Culvert leaned back, his head tilted toward the
ceiling. Then he whipped it forward.
"See, normally I'd lie to y'all. I'd tell you your
'product' is shit, and that you should feel lucky if I'd sell
it to the poorest crackheads who live in the subway. See,
that way I'd bargain you down, get you to sell it to me at
a discount, and I'd keep the profits for my own."
"Smart business strategy," the woman said.
"But I ain't gonna do that to you. You're good peo-38
Jason Pinter
ple. Listen, this be the finest product I have ever tried
in my whole life. Fact is, if you hadn't come on time
today I'd have to get my man Buttercup to track you
down and get some more down here because my stash
is out. "
"Buttercup?" Malloy said.
The massive, milky-white bodyguard nodded. "That's
what people call me."
"Intimidating," the woman said.
"Listen, lady," Buttercup said, "I will break your bony
ass over my knee."
"Hey, my man Cup, there's no need for that," Culvert
said. "These people are our friends. They're going to double
your salary, because I'm gonna be worth twice as much."
"At least," the woman said.
"So look, I want in. I'll start with a million worth of
the rock. I have enough dealers on the streets that we'll
probably be sold out in a month. Then we'll re-up, and
go from there. Everybody makes money. You have the
product, I have the distribution. Together, we'll blanket
the city. Every two-bit street demon with a habit and a
ten-dollar bill will be aching for a taste of this."
"You do have the streets," the woman said. "And that
is commendable. Very nineteen eighties. But to be honest,
I'm thinking a little higher than street level."
"What you mean?" Culvert said. "Higher, where?"
"That's not important. I'm just glad you enjoyed the
product."
"Enjoyed?" Culvert said. "Man, I'm gonna buy ten
grand worth just for my own personal enjoyment. What
do you say to that?"
Malloy shrugged. The woman did not move. The other
man stayed quiet. He looked uncomfortable.
The Darkness
39
"Who is this dude?" Culvert said, nodding to the
quiet man.
"This," the woman replied, "is Detective Sevag Makhoulian of the NYPD. He's our liaison inside the department. He will keep us apprised of any police awareness
of our operation."
"Smart bitch, you is," Culvert said. "So, let's make a
deal."
"Sorry," the woman said. "No deal."
Culvert looked like he'd been punched in the stomach.
"What do you mean, no deal? You gave me the product
to test, I tested it, and now I want to take it to the streets.
We all make money."
"We make money," she said. "You don't."
LeRoy Culvert jumped from the couch, his chains
clinking, baggy pants fluttering. "Listen, bitch, I want my
stash. Business or