NYPD Red(33)

“Don’t you think I know that? I’m not still playing the dumb hillbilly schoolboy, Lexi. I’m not saying we should go up against a couple of trigger-happy rent-a-cops. Jimmy Fitzhugh has cash in his trailer, and it’s not there to pay the union   guys.”

“Then what’s it for?”

“Coke.”

“Get out of here.”

“Jimmy’s boss has money up the wazoo,” Gabe said. “He also likes to party hearty, and nose candy is always on the menu. But the boss man is too high-profile to risk getting caught doing a transaction, so if a line producer wants to work for him, part of his job is to score the dope. Jimmy told me he’s been doing it three years now. Never a problem, and the big guy always gives him hazard pay.”

“Pretty sweet setup. How do we get the money?”

“Jimmy shows up at the trailer. I stick a gun to his head. And I know for sure he won’t put up a fight. It’s not his money, and if it gets stolen, I bet the boss doesn’t even report it to the cops, because they might figure out what he was using it for.”

“What do I do?”

“It’s your big break, kid,” Gabe said. “You get a speaking part. Jimmy knows me, which means he could easily recognize my voice. So I can’t say a word. You just tell him to hand over the money, then you play lookout while he fills up the bag. Once we have the cash, I pay Mickey, and I guess you know what happens after that.”

Lexi grinned. “Yeah. Kaboom.”





Chapter 36



I GOT TO GERRI’S DINER a few minutes after 5:00. Business was brisk, but they weren’t so busy that I couldn’t eyeball every booth, every table, and every counter stool. Cheryl wasn’t in, at, or on any of them.

“You want some breakfast, Zach?”

It was Gerri Gomperts herself. Gerri is a Force of Nature—tiny enough to fit into a twenty-gallon soup pot and tough enough to single-handedly take on a junkie who was so strung out that he tried to rob a diner around the corner from a police precinct. Turned out Gerri didn’t need a cop. She whacked him across the forehead with a hot spatula. The poor guy needed forty stitches before they could even book him.

“No thanks, Gerri,” I said. “Just a large coffee to go.”

“We’re all out of coffee to go,” she said. “We only have coffee you can drink here.”

I looked at her. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, Zach. I’m meddling. It’s what I do. Now go sit in that corner booth over there till that gawjus lady shrink comes out of the restroom. She just ordered breakfast.”

I sat at the booth and two minutes later the restroom door opened and the shrink stepped out. I had to agree with Gerri. Cheryl was gawjus.

“You again,” she said, sitting across from me. “I saw the mayor’s press conference last night, so I’m not surprised you didn’t get much sleep.”

“It wasn’t the mayor who woke me up at four in the morning,” I said.

“Don’t tell me your new partner is still keeping you awake.”

“No,” I said, “this time it’s her husband.”

I told her Spence’s middle-of-the-night theory, sparing no detail. “And when I finally said to him that the actual city of Los freakin’ Angeles can’t be the criminal mastermind behind these murders, and I asked him if he’s got a lead on a human suspect, guess what he says?”

She smiled. “I’m going to go with…‘That’s your job, Detective Jordan.’”

I pounded my hand on the tabletop and the silverware jumped. “That’s exactly what he said. Damn, you’re good.”

“Thanks, but that was too easy. The way you set it up, there was only one answer.”

“So what do you call that—you know, what Spence is doing?” I asked. “Is it passive-aggressive behavior?”

“I don’t think so. He sounds pretty genuine. I think he really wants to help.”

“I appreciate it,” I said, “but there are four million people in LA. Why doesn’t he call me once he’s narrowed it down?”

“The mayor made the usual promises last night about working around the clock, blah, blah, blah, and bringing about a swift conclusion to this tragedy,” she said. “Where are we really?”

“Somewhere between desperate and deep shit. We don’t even have enough on this guy to ask you to do a profile.”

“I’m sure you’ve already figured out that he’s someone on the periphery of show business who hates the business and everyone in the inner circle,” she said. “Which narrows it down to every actor, writer, and waiter in the Tri-State Area.”