The More Things Change...(Part V)

[Robbie C.]

Yet more in the Task Force saga...

 

Crockett and Tubbs waited in Interrogation 2 with mixed feelings. Tubbs paced the room like a caged leopard. “I should be calling Pedrosa right now, not dancing with this chump.”

Crockett sat slumped in one of the metal chairs. “Just relax, Rico. The lieutenant had a good reason for sending us. He knows we've worked with Moreno more than anyone else on the Task Force. That and he needs Stan to finish setting Lester up to handle the surveillance.”

“I know. But it doesn't make that little weasel any easier to stomach.” Tubbs was about to continue when the door opened and Izzy's stench hit them like a thick fog. “Dear God! Is that you, Moreno?”

“Crockett! Tubbs! Am I ever glad to see joo two!” Izzy pushed past Stan, who grinned at the two detectives before shutting the door with a firm click. “Yas...that is the essence of me joo smell. The primordial fragrance. The...”

“The stench of something that should have been buried weeks ago.” Crockett grinned as Tubbs moved to the side of the room nearest the ceiling vents. “Where the hell have you been, Moreno? I'd say basting yourself in garbage judging from the smell, but I think even the garbage would kick you out.”

Izzy frowned. “Joo insult me. Joo pain me to the core.”

“No. I just say you smell like a dead dog left in the hot sun for three weeks. But that doesn't answer the question. Why did you go into hiding? And don't give me any crap about some Hemingway writing retreat. I don't think you can write your name, let alone anything else.”

“Crockett, I...”

Tubbs slammed his hand on the table, making Izzy jump. “No, you listen chump! I am not going to sit in here smelling your damned armpits and your funky feet for much longer. Keep it up, and we'll violate your smelly ass right back to your parole officer. And you know what that means...”

“Okay! Joo don't have to be so hostile, Tubbs. When Noogie died there was talk. Lots of street talk. Bad heroin. Dealers looking to settle scores. Joo name it, it was out there. And wit' my good friends Crockett and Tubbs gone I didn't know what to do. So I go to my uncle an' he sends me to that hut.” Izzy shuddered. “I hate the damned ocean, man! It plays hell with my complexion! My skin foundationals get all messed up with the salt air, joo know.”

“Great. We'll get you a facial to go with the shower.” Crockett leaned forward, breathing shallow to avoid taking in too much primal Izzy. “We need you out on the streets, Izzy. Like yesterday. Don't worry about the heroin. That's taken care of. It's the other party favors we need to know about.”

“Yeah, chump. You get back to doing what you do.”

“Hokay. I do it. For joo two.”

“Great.” Crockett handed Izzy a card. “That number will get you Switek. You report to him unless it's big. Then he'll let us know. You get the usual CI stipend, and we won't tell your parole officer what you've been up to.”

“Cross us and we will, chump. You can bank on it.”

Izzy took the card with a hurt expression. “After all these years there should be some trust. We fight the forces of evil so many times...joo can't have forgotten...”

“That you'll do anything to make a buck, honest or otherwise? No, we haven't forgotten. We need actionable intel, Moreno. Not gossip or shit you make up. Clear?” Crockett waited for Izzy to nod. “Good. Now go find a shower and get some clean clothes. I hear there's a new batch of old folks down at the Pelican who need some of those Italian shoes.”

Once Izzy was gone, Tubbs let out a long sigh. “I can finally breathe again. You think that little chump had a dead rat in his shorts?”

“Nothing would surprise me with Moreno.” Sonny chuckled at the image Tubbs created. “But I think even dead rats have standards.”

“You think he'll turn anything up?”

“With Izzy you never know. Most of it might be shit, but from time to time the little bastard brings in pure gold. Maybe we'll get lucky.” Metal scraped on concrete as Sonny pushed the chair back from the table. “Let's get back so you can call Pedrosa. He must be sweating blood by now.”

Stan and Lester were huddled in the far corner of the conference room going over notebooks when Crockett and Tubbs got back to the anonymous office suite. Stan looked up when they came in. “Glad you guys are here. I want to show Lester how the phone set-up works. Rico, where do you want to call from?”

“A pay phone down by the docks. Near a club would be good just in case that girl and her meat slab have been talking around town.”

“Good thinking.” Stan shifted the phone so Lester could see and activated a line. “This will route it through a phone outside Rumour, that dance club down where the Red Flamingo used to be. Hit this switch and the line will have the right background noise. There's a key in the back of the green notebook here so you can match numbers to lines and locations.” Lester nodded, his face twisted in intense concentration. “Don't worry, man. You'll get to practice later. I just wanted you to see in it real-time action.” Stan flicked the switch and grinned over at Tubbs. “You're good to go, Rico.”

“Thanks.” Rico took the receiver and keyed in the number from Crockett's pager. “This is Cooper. Put Carlos on. Look, my time's money and it's runnin' out fast. That show with the Coast Guard was amateur as hell, and my people don't like messin' with amateurs...So show me you're not!...Look...I ain't got time for this song and dance you're doin'. We either make a deal soon or my an' my money fly back to New York City and never look back...No, I don't do negotiations over the phone. You still want a deal we meet face to face. I bring Burnett since he's handling my transportation...Tomorrow night at the latest. Then I'm gone...No, Reno picked the last meet sight and that chump screwed everything up. You want to meet, page Burnett. I'll call you back with the place. You pick the time...If you want to do business that's how it is.” Snorting, Tubbs slammed the phone down. “He sounded damned desperate. Wanted to do the whole thing over the phone.”

“I'll play the tapes back for the lieutenant.” Stan got up. “Now, Lester, let me show you what happens after one of those calls.” The two surveillance experts headed for the back office, Stan already rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

“You ever get the feeling you saw something that just wasn't natural?”

“Every time I see Switek like that.” Tubbs chuckled. Then his eyes changed. “I've been meaning to say thanks for that Nikko thing.”

“Aw, don't sweat it, Tubbs. You'd do the same for me. It was just dumb luck Benny told the bartender about Burnett. Otherwise he wouldn't have said a damned thing.” Crockett slapped his forehead. “I forgot to ask Stan to check on something for me. And there's no way I'm opening that door.”

“Some things are just best left unseen.” Rico laughed and then turned serious again. “Was it important?”

“Not really. Just another possible source of information. It'll keep.” Sonny stood up, glad that Izzy's stench was finally out of his nose. “I'm gonna head back to the boat and feed Elvis. Maybe make some dinner. You want me to pick you up in the morning? Odds are Castillo will want updates.”

“You up for some company, partner?”

“I'm going to play it low-key tonight. Nothing personal. Just got some things to sort out.”

“Solid. Drop me by the Cooper palace, then. I'll go ahead and drive in come morning. Got some dry cleaning to drop off.” Tubbs looked down at his suit. “This damned climate plays hell with my good threads. And it'll likely take two cleanings to get Izzy's stench out of this suit.”

 

The Magic Hour had Miami firmly in its gold-shrouded grasp when Sonny stopped in front of the tombstone. He never visited on the actual anniversary. That would be too easy for someone to track. But he couldn't shake the time of day, when the setting sun turned everything a red gold and all seemed possible.

Looking down, he read the inscription. 'Caitlin Crockett and Baby Will. You are in my heart always and forever.' He knew she could have written better, but he wasn't a poet. The medical examiner told Sonny the fetus was a boy, so he'd named it after Caitlin's bass player. Someone who'd fought for her. It just seemed right.

As always, he laid three red roses on the slab. One for each of them. “I don't know why I'm still here and you're not,” he muttered, looked away from the tombstone to the red sky beyond. “You were so much better than I ever was. If I could go back and take that bullet, I would.” Choking back a sob, he looked down at the grave. The cemetery did a good job maintaining things, and Caitlin's former assistant brought fresh flowers out from time to time. Maybe not as much now, but Sonny didn't hold that against her. She had a life to live.

“It's hard, babe. Some days it's ok, but others...I miss you so damned much. We were right on the edge of something great. I just wish I would have known about Will. I would have left the force, you know. For the two of you. I couldn't do that with Caroline. I don't know why. Maybe we were both too damned young. Too unaware of what the world can do. But for you...I would have walked away. I should have said that. I know I thought it enough times.” He stopped talking, feeling tears running down his cheeks. “I would have been happy running your damned security. Nothing fancy. Funny how we all stop being proud when it's too late and doesn't count for anything.”

He touched the stone, feeling the cool marble under his fingertips. “I don't think there's any going back for me now. You'd be happy to know both Marty and Stan finally found love. With Trudy and Gina of all things. Yeah, Gina finally figured it out and moved on. We never would have worked, never could have worked. She was always part of it, and I needed someone away from it. You understood that. Tubbs is still Tubbs. I don't know if he'll ever get over Angelina, and Valerie messes with his head, too. We're both damaged goods, babe. Maybe the Job is all we deserve now.”

The sun had almost vanished before he lifted his fingers from the stone. “Guess I'd better go feed Elvis. Damned ticking suitcase is still crawling around and still needs me.” He paused for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. “I still love you, babe. And I miss you more than ever.” Turning, he walked back to the Ferrari. Closing that part of his soul until the next visit.

 

The sun was fully set, and Miami vied with the stars to put on a worthy light show. Ricardo Tubbs sat in one of the chairs on his penthouse deck, looking down at the sprawling city with a glass of scotch in his hand and regrets in his heart.

How could I fall for that girl? Damn it! Crockett's the one who's supposed to do that, not me. He smiled and took a sip, the whiskey warming his tongue and throat. “Maybe that's just what I tell myself,” he muttered, picking out the bright neon of various clubs with a practiced eye. “I wasn't seeing much besides where that dress stopped and her assets started.”

The mood was familiar, and he knew trying to fight it was pointless. Soon enough he'd start thinking about his son. Wondering where the boy was and which inbred chunk of the Calderone clan was busy poisoning his heart against his father and lying about his mother. It bothered him more than he cared to admit, and not knowing was the worst part. Maybe little Ricardo was dead. The odds were he'd never know.

Feeling the familiar weight of his revolver in its hip holster Tubbs got up and walked to the edge of the roof. He liked watching the cars snake by, twisting their way deeper into the heart of the city like glowing worms, Maybe coming back was the wrong thing to do. Most days, most hours, it felt good, but then there were times he questioned the whole thing. Crockett, he knew, was all in. Most times Rico was, too. But then he got to thinking about the intensity in Castillo's eyes and wondered.

Martin Castillo was the most intense man Tubbs had ever known. Even being with Trudy hadn't seemed to mellow the man. If anything he drew more strength from the human connection. What gave him pause was the lack of restraint. Before, when they were Metro-Dade, Castillo always tried to hold them back. Now it was the opposite. They were running like he'd never seen a unit run before. Totally open. No real limits. And he had no idea if they had any backup worthy of the name.

Sighing, he turned back to the table and poured another drink. Tomorrow was another day, and there was much yet undone. Cooper needed to come on stage again, strutting like he owned the whole damned south of Florida and push Pedrosa into making a mistake. The thought brought a smile to Rico's face. It all seemed to be coming together.

 

“Stan, I need a favor.” Sonny Crockett stood in the suite doorway, his white blazer unbuttoned in recognition of the heat even though it was still early.

“No, I won't take your mom out. Gina would get pissed.”

“You're not her type anyhow, big guy.” Sonny chuckled. “No, when you get a chance could you run a name for me? I'd like to know what Robbie Cann's up to these days.”

“Your old Marine buddy? Sure. I'll see what I can find. I think the DA cut him a deal for his testimony, so he didn't do time. But I'll have the whole thing for you by tomorrow.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, one more thing. Trudy left a message for you last night. That meeting you wanted? She's got it set up for you. Two o'clock tomorrow down at the Gator Bar by the canals.”

“I know the dive. Does Tubbs know?”

“Does Tubbs know what?” Rico sauntered in, his habitual Armani rig open like Crockett's to catch any hint of cool.

“We got a meet with those guys. Two tomorrow at the Gator Bar.”

“Solid.” Tubbs helped himself to coffee and sat down. “Thank Trudy if you see her before we do.”

Sonny was about to say something when the pager on his hip buzzed. “Looks like old Carlos is serious,” he said when he looked at the number. “That's him.”

“What's a good place to meet this chump?”

“It's a face to face, not a buy. Not yet. How about Rendezvous? It's glitzy enough for Cooper.”

“Solid.”

“I won't be able to wire the place. Just so you know.”

“Shouldn't be a big deal. We might need you and Trudy inside as cover, but that's all. After Reno you can bet he'll be checking us for wires.”

Reaching out, Tubbs picked up the phone and selected another pay phone number. “Might as well keep the chump guessing.”

This time the talk was short and direct. Tubbs give him the club name, waited ten seconds and hung up. “He says six tonight.”

“That means his boys will show up by five.” Sonny looked over at Stan. “You and Trudy can either get there before that or after. Just no later than five thirty. Those boys will be jumpy as hell as the meet time gets close.”

Before Tubbs could add anything, the suite door opened and Martin Castillo walked in. He looked at the three detectives and nodded. “Pedrosa must have made contact.”

“He did.” Tubbs spoke quickly. “We're meeting him at Rendezvous. It's a new club down near the beach but far enough back for the rich folks to keep the sand out of their shoes.” He chuckled. “It's set for six tonight. We can't get surveillance on the place, but we'd like to put Stan and Trudy inside before the meet as backup.”

“Are you expecting a deal?”

“No. And Cooper won't make one.” Tubbs looked over at Sonny, who nodded. “I'm playing it cool. After all, his boy almost got Cooper killed. At least that's what I want Pedrosa to think. We'll dance, see how low he's willing to go, and then deal. If Stan's intel is right he's got lots of pressure at his back. It won't take long, but I don't want to make it too easy for him.”

“Yeah. He'd bolt if it looked too easy.”

“Trudy's getting Izzy situated in a safe house. She'll be back in time to get ready.” Castillo stood for a moment, looking at Sonny and Rico. “It's a good plan. Do it.” Then he turned and headed for his office, shutting the door behind him.

Sonny inclined his head toward the door and raised an eyebrow. “Ideas?”

Stan nodded, keeping his voice low. “Coordination. The Feds give us a long leash, but he has to keep them updated. That and I think he's reaching out to old friends. People who owe him favors. I never knew so many people owed him so much, but he calls them in when we need something.”

“We've got a few hours before the meeting.” Sonny looked over at Tubbs. “I don't know about you, but I could use a burger and some time to think.” He looked across the table. “You want to come, Stan? You know more about Pedrosa than both of us put together. Be nice to know what you hear in his voice that isn't in those files.”

 

“That's the long of it.” Stan Switek spoke around a mouthful of french fries slathered in ketchup. “The short is we don't have much on Pedrosa apart from what Metro-Dade handed over. He's always been a mid-level player at best, and I think he's afraid Moncado might decide he over-promoted little Carlos. He tries to rule through fear, something Reno never could do, and it works for him about half the time.” He swallowed the mangled potatoes and took a big bite of burger. “From listening to 'em talk, I think most of his men are really afraid of Moncado. They do what he says because they think Pedrosa has his ear.”

“Does he?” Sonny leaned forward, focusing on Stan's every word. Whatever school he went to paid off. The big guy's got this down.

“Sometimes. Little Carlos is ambitious, and Moncado knows that. What they worry about more is his erratic streak. Pedrosa can be in the middle of a meeting and lose it for no reason. I heard his boys talking one time about how he shot a guy for bringing him coffee that was too hot. But it's mostly an act.” Stan leaned forward, dropping his voice. “Don't take this the wrong way, Sonny, but Burnett would have eaten him for lunch.”

“Don't worry about it, Stan. Knowing that actually helps me plan for this meeting.” Sonny smiled, hiding the worry spinning in his brain.Burnett was a force to be reckoned with. I can feel it deep down, just waiting to get out again. The bad face of the coin that shrink called him. Maybe she was right.“Maybe I can use that if Cooper's magic fails.”

“The play never fails, baby.” Tubbs laughed, forking salad into his mouth after he spoke. His forehead wrinkled as he chewed and swallowed. “But if this cat starts flipping out Burnett can smack him back into place.”

“They talked for days about how you shot Reno's guy for mouthing off. Pedrosa knows about that.”

“So he'll either challenge the man or avoid the man.” Rico signaled a passing waitress for coffee. “We're solid either way.”

“And Trudy and I will be there if it gets too hot.”

Sonny nodded, looking at his watch. “You'd better head back and see if she's ready. Thanks for the time, Stan. That was damned good information.”

“Any time, Sonny.”

Once Switek was gone, Tubbs turned to Sonny. “It's like watching a kid grow up.”

“Yeah. I just hope he stays off the gambling.”

“You can bet Gina will keep him clean.”

“Yeah. Damned good thing, too. I don't think we could work this without Switek. I do miss Lee Harvey Oswald, though.”

“Larry was a good cop. No question.” Tubbs let that sit in the air for a time and sipped his coffee.

Sonny accepted the unspoken rebuke. Again, that's the least I deserve for what happened. It's on me, and will be until I die.“Let's blow this pop stand and get ready. Stan's 'Little Carlos' might not be Al Capone, but he's no pushover, either.”

 

Rendezvous was set back from the street, most of the club's neon-streaked facade hidden by thick hedges and the occasional palm tree. A narrow walkway done in old-style paving stones led to the door, and Sonny and Rico walked past the tuxedo-clad doorman like they owned the place. Sonny had never been there before, so he let Rico take the lead. “Bar's a big ring in the center,” his partner told him on the drive down. “Dance floors on either side and these funky booth things along the walls. They got some kind of VIP room, too. But we're not going in there. I told Carlos to look for us in one of the booths across from the door.”

Once inside Sonny focused his attention on people and not lights or the mid-range music trying to lure people onto the dance floors. He spotted Stan and Trudy right away, but his expression didn't change. They had a good spot at the bar where they could sweep the entire place if need be. Even though it was early the place was fairly crowded, and they made their way through the crowd toward the back booths. Once they passed, he raised his hand and whispered, “Nod if you read me.” He nodded back when both Stan and Trudy bobbed their heads. Comms were working. That was always a plus.

Tubbs found what he was looking for and slid into the booth, the cushion leather creaking as he settled in. “Now we wait. Seen any of Carlos's friends yet?”

“Might be two at the bar. Hard to say, though.” Sonny shook his head. He'd spotted two or three small-time dealers, and the muscle might be connected with them and not Pedrosa. “Scratch that. They work for Tony Hernandez.”

“I thought that chump was doing time.”

“So did I, but he's over there tryin' to make a deal with some other punk.” Sonny smiled as a waitress clad in a short black suggestion and bright smile approached their booth. “Black Jack neat for me, darlin'. My friend here likes Johnny Walker Black on the rocks.”

They'd just gotten their drinks when Sonny felt the familiar tickle at the base of his neck. He'd first noticed it years ago when he and Robbie were doing jeep patrol duty in Da Nang, and learned to never ignore its subtle warning. Looking up, he spotted five men moving through the crowd around the bar. “We got company,” he whispered, making sure the mic picked it up. “Five of 'em.”

Tubbs sipped his scotch and looked cool, but Sonny could see the intensity burning in his eyes. Once the men got close enough, Tubbs waved his hand across the table, palm up. “You must be Carlos. Take a seat. Your friends might have to wait at the bar. No one's sitting in my lap.”

“Mine either, pal.” Sonny tightened his jaw to hide a smile as he saw white spots appearing high on Pedrosa's face. He also saw why Stan called him Little Carlos; Pedrosa wasn't over five seven and likely didn't break one sixty on the scale. His hair was raven black like his eyes, and he had high cheekbones and narrow, almost pointed features.

Pedrosa dismissed his men with a gesture, but Sonny noticed the tremor in his hand as he did so. “It is all business, yes?” he asked in a voice deeper than his body might suggest. “I don't need helpers to talk business. Do you, Mr Cooper?”

“Mr. Burnett is my transportation consultant.” Tubbs looked at Pedrosa with hooded eyes. “My money's from New York; his services are more local. My people focus their efforts on other aspects of the business.”

“Like what?”

“Like things that don't concern you. Your man Reno almost got me blown away by the Coast Guard. I was on my way back to New York when Burnett here convinced me to hang back and salvage something from the deal.” Tubbs set down his empty glass. “I don't like almost being blown away, Carlos. It makes me cranky. And it makes my friends wonder about the security of someone they might do business with.”

Now that Tubbs had switched into full Cooper mode, Sonny split his attention between the conversation and watching the club around them. He saw Carlos' men, standing at the bar like movie props with Budweisers in their hands and bulges under their arms. Trudy and Stan had shifted to cover them, so he wasn't too worried. Two of the small-time dealers had moved on, their places taken by others with big ambitions and small skills.

“Do we bore you, Burnett?”

“Honestly? Yes, you do. Mostly you, Carlos. Cooper and I have done business before. He needs stuff moved, I find out how much and how. You only matter to me once he's made a deal and I have things to pick up. That's how I survive in this game, pal. So what are we talking?”

Tubbs laughed. “That's why I like Burnett, Carlos. Straight to the point and no fuss about him. If this goes as planned, can you handle all of Carlos' stock on hand?”

“I can move up to eight hundred keys with next to no notice. Anything above that I need a couple of days. That also raises my rates.”

“And cuts what I pay per kilo. You see, my people like business to make a profit.”

Pedrosa's eyes glittered in light reflected from the mirrors behind the booth, and Sonny saw the cowardice behind the bluster. That makes him more dangerous. He's the little shit who knifes you while you're taking a piss. Odds are he'll try to screw us at some point during the deal.“We all want to make money, Mr. Cooper. That is why I meet with you.”

“Not what I hear. What I hear is your network can't keep up with your imports so you need new markets. Like I told your punk Reno I can get your product to those markets. My associates were reasonably happy with the first shipment, but they want to know if you can get better quality product. Eighty percent doesn't leave much room for expansion.”

“Eighty percent?” A vein started throbbing on Pedrosa's forehead. “Is that what he sold you? We normally go ninety percent. At the lowest.”

“We will need to test this next shipment. If it's below the level you say, there's no deal and I fly my happy ass back to New York.”

“You have my word.”

“And your boss' word too?” Sonny shook his head and turned to Tubbs. “You taking this deal?”

“I'll need to check with New York. If he can produce ninety percent they'll be happy.” Tubbs flashed his Cooper deal smile. “I'll call you tomorrow and let you know, Carlos. We can meet for a test and final negotiations.”

“Sure, but I'll need a down-payment.” The relief was visible on Pedrosa's narrow face. “Something to show your people mean business.”

“Sure. And I'll need your sister for the same reason.” Tubbs grinned. “Just kidding. I don't care if you have a sister or not.”

Sonny checked out again while they traded insults and talked about price. The guys at the bar were starting to worry him. They'd pulled closer together, and seemed to be watching Pedrosa for some kind of signal. Slipping his hand inside his dark blazer he unsnapped his 4506. Just in case. He couldn't see Pedrosa making a move now, but he'd learned long ago you can't predict the actions of cowards.

“I think you'll be glad to stayed to make this deal.” Pedrosa stood up, extending his hand. “Let's shake on a successful beginning.”

Tubbs rose and shook his hand. “Sure. But I'll drink to it when we're done with the first shipment of quality product. And for the one after that, if this goes better than Reno's fiasco, I'll have Burnett dial up some more transport options. And Carlos? There'd better not be another whacked-out junkie on smack popping up to ruin our business.”

“If there is I'll blow him away like I did the last one.” Sonny slipped into Burnett without missing a beat. “And maybe I won't stop there.”

“That was Reno's mistake. My...the organization I represent doesn't deal in that product.”

“We'll talk more about that tomorrow.” Tubbs was playing grateful Cooper now, and Sonny marveled at how easily he could shift between the various shades of Cooper. “We may want to bring in others from your organization if this works out.”

Sonny waited until Pedrosa and his four men left the club before letting out a long sigh. Raising his arm, he spoke into the small mic. “Stan, you and Trudy can call it a night. You've both got people to see. Tubbs and I will roll out in a bit.”

“Sending the kids home?”

“Something like that. Besides, Pedrosa might still have people in the club. He doesn't need to see them with us.”

“Good point, partner. You think he bought it?”

“I think he's so afraid of something he had to buy it. I ain't sure he likes it much, though.”

“Same thing I saw. The chump tries to be tough, but behind it he's scared of someone.”

“He's a coward, Rico. You can see it in his eyes. That makes him dangerous.” Sonny looked around for the waitress. He needed another drink. “But yeah, he's afraid of Moncado. We need get some more intel on that guy. I have a feeling we'll be meeting him pretty damned soon.”

[mjcmmv]

Love the dialogue!

The deal is coming to a head. Lots of danger...

Very well done, as usual.