forward, looking entirely out of place among the extreme and colorful fashions of the discotheque, carefully picked his way through people and passed near Bad Red. Bad Red stopped talking, nodding respectfully at the small white man, who nodded back, a gesture so small that it was almost missed. Not by Wile E. Coyote. Then the little man was gone, swallowed by the crowd.
“Be an expensive night fo’ somebody.” Bad Red was still staring in the direction of the little man.
Neil said, “Somebody we should know?”
“Not ’less you awfully rich. I mean real white-folks rich.” Bad Red swallowed half of a gin and tonic. He belched. “That man be chargin’ people one hundred thousand dollars jes’ to introduce you to somebody.”
Katey blew smoke at the ceiling. “Computer dating’s a lot cheaper.”
Bad Red said, “Computer datin’ don’t git you no dope. This man can.”
“Maybe we ought to be talking with him instead of you.” Katey used the corner of a matchbook to pry a strand of pineapple from between two top teeth.
Bad Red chuckled. “You ain’t ready fo’ him. He’s what you call a git-together man. Introduces you to people in Europe, top people in Paris, Marseilles, Belgium, Germany.”
Katey smiled. “A travel agent, right?” He was baiting Bad Red, getting him to talk, to keep flapping his thick lips. Neil said nothing. Lydia took a long time to take one sip from a rum and Coke.
“Travel agent my ass.” Bad Red had to show off now. Show and tell. Just the way Katey figured. “I’m tellin’ you, he charge a hundred thousand jes’ to introduce you to top people. Take like you got a heavy load and you can’t find you no buyers for it. Now, you sittin’ on mucho dope, no money comin’ in, and people know you got it. Maybe they tell the law, maybe they steal it. Thing is, you want to git rid of it quick. But you don’t know nobody who can buy all you got. He knows top people who buy it from you. But agin, like I say, he always charge you a hundred thousand for to introduce you to somebody.”
“Oh, I see.” Katey rolled an unlit cigarette between his teeth. He was a good actor, like any other cop who worked vice and narcotics. You were always playing a role then. Make sure you play it like a champ.
It’s not just who Lydia Constanza knows. It’s the people they know. Words of wisdom from Fred Praether. Maybe Lydia was righteous. Katey smiled at her, and she smiled back tentatively, nervously, blinking her eyes, then looking away. Shy little fox.
Before Neil or Katey could say anything, two young blacks came up to the table to backslap Bad Red and clasp palms with him, the three men grinning and greeting each other warmly. Katey noticed the two young, pretty white girls who hung back, eyes on the table. Trophies for the dope dealers, because that’s what the two young blacks were. That’s what Katey’s gut feeling was telling him as he watched them whisper into Bad Red’s ear, the three of them chuckling.
“No, man, no. Ain’t holdin’ nothin’ like that.” Bad Red chuckled louder. “You two is gettin’ in the way of business I got goin’ here.” The two young blacks looked at Neil, Katey, nodded politely. One of the blacks knew Lydia and leaned over to gently kiss her cheek.
When the young blacks and their white women had left, Bad Red still smiled, shaking his head. “They axin’ me ’bout some cut. They lookin’ to buy four, five keys of mannite.”
Katey said, “That means they’re holding a load or expecting to get one.”
“Cocaine.” Bad Red sipped from his glass, eyeing the dancing crowd, one hand patting the table in rhythm to Stevie Wonder’s “Keep on Runnin’ from My Love.” “They always step on their shit with mannite ’cause it’s fluffy, puffs up the dope so it looks like you got a lot. They been buyin’ it from Puerto Rico for like seven hunnerd a key. Then they found out it only cost thirty-five a key down there, so now they
“Be an expensive night fo’ somebody.” Bad Red was still staring in the direction of the little man.
Neil said, “Somebody we should know?”
“Not ’less you awfully rich. I mean real white-folks rich.” Bad Red swallowed half of a gin and tonic. He belched. “That man be chargin’ people one hundred thousand dollars jes’ to introduce you to somebody.”
Katey blew smoke at the ceiling. “Computer dating’s a lot cheaper.”
Bad Red said, “Computer datin’ don’t git you no dope. This man can.”
“Maybe we ought to be talking with him instead of you.” Katey used the corner of a matchbook to pry a strand of pineapple from between two top teeth.
Bad Red chuckled. “You ain’t ready fo’ him. He’s what you call a git-together man. Introduces you to people in Europe, top people in Paris, Marseilles, Belgium, Germany.”
Katey smiled. “A travel agent, right?” He was baiting Bad Red, getting him to talk, to keep flapping his thick lips. Neil said nothing. Lydia took a long time to take one sip from a rum and Coke.
“Travel agent my ass.” Bad Red had to show off now. Show and tell. Just the way Katey figured. “I’m tellin’ you, he charge a hundred thousand jes’ to introduce you to top people. Take like you got a heavy load and you can’t find you no buyers for it. Now, you sittin’ on mucho dope, no money comin’ in, and people know you got it. Maybe they tell the law, maybe they steal it. Thing is, you want to git rid of it quick. But you don’t know nobody who can buy all you got. He knows top people who buy it from you. But agin, like I say, he always charge you a hundred thousand for to introduce you to somebody.”
“Oh, I see.” Katey rolled an unlit cigarette between his teeth. He was a good actor, like any other cop who worked vice and narcotics. You were always playing a role then. Make sure you play it like a champ.
It’s not just who Lydia Constanza knows. It’s the people they know. Words of wisdom from Fred Praether. Maybe Lydia was righteous. Katey smiled at her, and she smiled back tentatively, nervously, blinking her eyes, then looking away. Shy little fox.
Before Neil or Katey could say anything, two young blacks came up to the table to backslap Bad Red and clasp palms with him, the three men grinning and greeting each other warmly. Katey noticed the two young, pretty white girls who hung back, eyes on the table. Trophies for the dope dealers, because that’s what the two young blacks were. That’s what Katey’s gut feeling was telling him as he watched them whisper into Bad Red’s ear, the three of them chuckling.
“No, man, no. Ain’t holdin’ nothin’ like that.” Bad Red chuckled louder. “You two is gettin’ in the way of business I got goin’ here.” The two young blacks looked at Neil, Katey, nodded politely. One of the blacks knew Lydia and leaned over to gently kiss her cheek.
When the young blacks and their white women had left, Bad Red still smiled, shaking his head. “They axin’ me ’bout some cut. They lookin’ to buy four, five keys of mannite.”
Katey said, “That means they’re holding a load or expecting to get one.”
“Cocaine.” Bad Red sipped from his glass, eyeing the dancing crowd, one hand patting the table in rhythm to Stevie Wonder’s “Keep on Runnin’ from My Love.” “They always step on their shit with mannite ’cause it’s fluffy, puffs up the dope so it looks like you got a lot. They been buyin’ it from Puerto Rico for like seven hunnerd a key. Then they found out it only cost thirty-five a key down there, so now they
Similar Books
