The members who had been lining the back wall left the room. I wondered if any of them would be ratting me out to the mayor or the police. I always wondered that. That was why I rarely allowed them in for meetings, but today was an exception. Today’s good news had to be shared with everyone, I felt.
“Are you suggesting we just waltz into the mayor’s mansion and question him?” Ricky asked.
“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting. But we’re going to keep this interaction with him professional. I don’t want anyone flying off the handle,” I explained.
“But won’t he hear us coming on the bikes?” Chase asked. “Won’t that give him a heads up so he can be ready for us?”
“That would, yes. That’s why we’re not taking the bikes. We’re going in the Suburban. He’ll probably see us coming either way, but he won’t recognize us as quickly that way,” I told the kings.
“When are we leaving?” Ricky asked.
“Why not right now?” Juarez chimed in.
“I’m with Juarez,” Chase said.
“So, it’s decided,” I said. “We’re going now.”
We pulled up to the mayor’s gated residence a few minutes later in the black Suburban. With the gates closed, we were unable to pull into his driveway, so we parked beside his property and climbed the wall surrounding his house. We approached from the front, trying to look as transparent as possible in our intentions to talk with the mayor.
He had obviously seen us approaching. He opened the door to greet us himself.
“Gentlemen! I’ve been expecting you,” he said with his trademark white smile.
I shot Angelo a look. He caught the expecting, too.
“Of course,” I said politely. “I think we have some important business to discuss, Mr. Mayor.”
“In private,” Angelo added.
“Certainly. Right this way.” The politician didn’t miss a beat. He ignored the implication of five bikers in t-shirts and fully decorated cuts standing on his stoop insisting on a private meeting with him. Seeing as how he was one of Ivan’s clients, he was probably accustomed to the risks that came from dealing with people like us.
He led us into what looked like a personal library. It was a large, mostly square room with floor to ceiling windows gazing out onto the front lawn. Across from the windows was a large, dark wooden desk immaculately clear of clutter. The walls were lined with bookshelves. I sincerely doubted he even knew what titles he had on those walls.
“So, are those real books, or just fakes to make you feel smarter?” I couldn’t resist the jab.
“Most of them are real,” he answered. “I don’t remember which ones.” I got the feeling he was playing along.
He motioned for two of us to sit in the two large leather chairs in front of his desk. Angelo and I took the seats. Angelo took seniority and rank over the other Kings, though he was rarely present. In fact, his field position came from the time he’d served under the president before me.
“I’m sorry I can’t accommodate more guests,” our gracious host apologized as the other three lined up behind us.
“That’s fine,” Chase said. “We don’t mind standing.”
Calm down, boy, I thought. I could hear the unspoken threat of violence in his voice. As he stood behind me, I was sure he was imagining jumping across that desk and handling this conversation with his fists.
“So, how can I help you gentlemen?” The sleaze ball politician sat down in the chair behind his desk and leaned back. He wore a slate gray suit with a red tie. His salt and pepper hair was slicked back. He looked like he should have held a cigar in his mouth when he spoke, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if he offered us a car while we were there.
“We understand you have a meeting coming up soon with Ivan Danilovich, the Russian drug lord operating here on our streets,” I said, trying my best to get right to it. I felt the air thicken with silent tension at my use of Ivan’s full name.
“I know who Ivan is,” our mayor said.
“And?” Angelo asked.
“And what?”
“And answer the question,” he finished.
“I’m sorry, but do I look like I have time to deal with that kind of scum on my streets?” he asked.
“Yes, you do.” I looked around his study. “In fact, I’m willing to bet you make more money off of Ivan than you do at work.”
“Listen, punk,” he said, sitting forward suddenly in his chair, “I’ve got a city swamped in crime, poverty, and drugs. Why would you assume I would be buying drugs to further pollute my streets with?”