We followed at a distance, allowing a couple cars to come between us. The Lincoln took Nottingham Way past Hamilton Avenue and Greenwood and turned onto State Street. Sunny was going back to his home base at Morgan and Fifteenth Street.
The Lincoln stopped at the corner of Fifteenth and Freeman. Shorty, Moe, and Sunny got out of the car and walked into a three-story brownstone. A young guy ran out of the building and drove away with the car.
“Valet parking for the mafia staff car,” Lula said.
“Sunny owns the building,” I told Lula. “He rents it out to the Chestnut Social Club.”
“I performed at the Chestnut Social Club when I was a ’ho,” Lula said. “It was a bunch of old Italian geezers who liked talking about the good old days when they could get a boner. We figured the club was named after their shrunken privates, which were about the size of chestnuts.”
“So you know the building?”
“Haven’t been there in a bunch of years since I’m not a ’ho no more, but used to be the ground floor was where they played dominoes and cards on a couple cheap-ass card tables with folding chairs. There was a bar on the second floor and a kitchen, which I never saw them use because they got food delivered. They had a big TV there and some leather couches and a back room with a bed. I never got to the third floor. I figured they counted out the day’s receipts up there.”
“Not an ideal place to make a bust.”
“It might not be so bad. It’s someplace Sunny feels safe, so he could go upstairs to see what they took in last night, and Shorty and Moe might not feel like climbing all those stairs. Shorty and Moe are probably gonna watch the domino players and scarf down some cannoli.”
“How would I get to Sunny if he’s on the third floor?”
“Backstairs. Every floor got a little balcony with stairs connecting them. It’s an emergency exit they could use if they gotta sneak out. I know about it because it’s the ’ho exit.”
Lula parked and we walked around the corner and took stock of the back of the building.
“I only see a window at each balcony,” I said. “No door.”
“Yeah, you gotta climb through the window and you end up at an inside back stairwell that got a door to each floor. You could go up on the inside or you could go up on the outside. Problem is, if you go up on the inside you could run into one of the Chestnuts.”
We were standing in a narrow alley that ran the length of the block. The alley was wide enough to accommodate a garbage truck and limited parking, but I didn’t see any cars parked. There were similar two- and three-story row houses on the other side of the alley. People occupying those row houses would be able to see me climbing the outside stairs. Fortunately the two closest houses didn’t look occupied. Their windows were boarded, and there was a construction Dumpster backed up to one of them.
I tucked handcuffs into the back pocket of my jeans, rammed a small canister of pepper spray into my front pocket, and clipped an illegal stun gun onto my waistband.
“You need a real gun,” Lula said.
“I don’t need a real gun. I’m not shooting anyone.”
“Suppose they shoot at you first?”
“I wave my arms in the air, scream like a girl, and run away as fast as I can.”
“Hunh,” Lula said. “I suppose I should come with you then in case that don’t work.”
We climbed the stairs to the third floor and tried the window. Locked.
“Probably because nobody hardly ever goes out this window,” Lula said.
We went down one level and tried that window. Also locked.
“Well, it’s just a window, and accidents happen,” Lula said.
She swung her Brakmin at the window, the glass shattered, and the security alarm went off.
“Oops,” Lula said. “I wasn’t counting on that.”
We bolted down the stairs and hid behind the construction Dumpster. The back door to Sunny’s building opened, and two overweight, out-of-shape guys stepped out and looked around. They peered up at the balconies but couldn’t get motivated to climb the stairs.
One of them pointed to the broken window. “Must have been a bird,” he said.
The other guy nodded, then they wheeled around and went inside.
“You should hurry up and go in before they turn the alarm back on,” Lula said. “I’ll stay here and be the lookout. I’ll tell you if someone comes to fix the window.”
“What if I need help getting Sunny out?”
“Call me and I’ll be there in a flash.”
I trudged up to the second floor, carefully stuck my hand through the broken window, and unlocked it. I opened the window, climbed in, and put my ear to the door. I could hear people talking, and noise from the television. I tiptoed up to the third floor and listened at that door. Silence. I eased the door open and found myself face to face with Uncle Sunny. He was sitting on a folding chair behind a long wood table, counting money. There was a monster safe on the far side of the room. The door to the safe was open, and a thin, balding, middle-aged guy was trying to stuff a large leather satchel into the safe.