Bridges

[Robbie C.]

Yeah...I know. Bad form to follow one story in progress with another that's done. But it's another foray in the first season (also between the pilot and Heart of Darkness) and I wanted to get it out there just because.

 

Ricardo Tubbs smiled across the table, ignoring Sonny Crockett shifting like a nervous child beside him. He was the one who had to hook Vitorio Ordonez, not his partner. And they’d do it his way. “The thing is, Vito, my people need product. Not promises. You can’t expect me to go back to New York with nothing but your promises and a kiss on the cheek. That ain’t how things work up there.”

“I get that, Taylor. But your people have to see things is…what’s the word?”

“Fluid.” Sonny spat the word out like a sour slice of lime. “You mean fluid, Ordonez.”

“Yeah. Fluid. With Quintaro in jail and jefe Calderone only the Virgin knows where, people are nervous.” Vitorio had a thin, weasel smile, and he used it now. “And the flow slows down when people are nervous.”

“Yeah, yeah. Tell me something new.” Rico looked at his watch, a big Rolex he’d picked out in the property room. They said it had once belonged to a Panamanian dealer who’d preceded all of them after he got in a gunfight with Narcotics. “I only agreed to this meeting because Burnett here said you could deliver. It’s starting to look like you can’t.”

“No, Mr. Taylor. You misunderstand.” That smile came again, making his narrow mustache twitch. “I can deliver, just not as much as Quintaro might have. Not at first. You see, things must return to normal. Supplies start flowing again as they should.”

Sonny yawned. “This is all very touching, but I got places I’d rather be.”

“Patience, Burnett.” Rico grinned, knowing he’d hear about that comment later. “We’re almost done. This is the part where I tell Vito here I can pay thirty five a key. No more. And then he tells me how much he can bring this time.”

“Twenty keys. That’s all I have on hand. Now. But once things are clear, I can go bigger.”

I doubt that, chump. But I’ll humor you. “Good. My associates prefer larger deals.” Reaching under the table, Rico brought up the attache case. “Thirty five. As we agreed.”

It was almost quiet in the back of the club, away from the sound system and sweaty bodies on the dance floor. But the light at the table was good enough for Rico to see Vito’s eyes go wide at the sight of the slim aluminum case. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a brick wrapped in brown paper. “One key. As agreed.”

Reaching out, Rico took the brick and handed it to Sonny. He kept his eyes fixed on Vito as his partner went though the motions of cutting through the wrapping with a pocket knife and scooping out a sample. He dropped it into a test kit and shook it. “Looks good, Taylor. At least eighty percent pure. Closer to ninety if the light was worth a crap in this place.”

Rico nodded. “And the rest?”

“Tomorrow night. There’s an old gas station down by 20^th and Miami. Used to be a Shell station. You can’t miss it.”

Sonny nodded. “I know the dump. Good place for a rip-off.”

“Come on, Sonny. Would I rip you off? We’ve done such good business, and Taylor here opens a new market for us both.” Vito’s smile was wide this time. “I would not, how do you say, shoot the golden goose.”

“Good. ‘Cause this goose shoots back.” Rico grinned. “We’ll meet you there at eleven. I see more than one vehicle or you and another guy the deal’s off.”

“Fair enough. You and Burnett come alone, too.” Grabbing the case, Vito got to his feet. “See you two tomorrow.”

Once he was gone, Sonny turned to Rico. “I just hope that damned tracker thing in the case works.”

“Yeah, but I think Stan and Larry know their stuff.”

“You don’t know Bluto and Lee Harvey Oswald like I do, pal. That’s one hell of a hope.” Sonny chuckled. “And we gotta get you a new cover. Richard Taylor just don’t flow off the tongue.”

Rico contented himself with a nod and waved for another drink. He was still too new, too unsure of his moves down here, to really question what Sonny said. But the two lab guys had impressed him with their knowledge. They’d worked with tech boys a few times back with Armed Robbery in the Bronx, mostly setting up cameras and the like in fronts designed to lure crews in, and Stan and Larry looked at least as good as the teams he’d worked with them. But this was Miami, and he reminded himself at least ten times a day he was still learning the rules down here.

A quick flare of light highlighted the stubble on Sonny’s face as he lit a Lucky Strike with his battered Ronson lighter. “We’ll give the punk a few minutes to get clear and then let’s blow this pop stand. Give Lou our report and then go get a real drink.”

 

Lou Rodriguez looked at the reports stacked on his desk and sighed. He’d rather be home listening to his wife do dishes and the kids squabbling about their homework, but there was still work to do. Not the least of which was squeezing a report out of Crockett and Tubbs.

He looked at the last lines of Calabrese’s and Joplin’s reports on the pimp they were trying to bust without really seeing them, then closed the folder with a sigh. Even now he couldn’t really say why he’d gone to bat for Tubbs with the bosses. He was a good cop, but there were already plenty of those in the squad. Part of it was the chance to have someone who could operate in Overton without causing a riot. He was honest enough with himself to admit that. But there had to be more to it than that.

He didn’t think Tubbs would really slow Crockett down. Oh, maybe he would at first. But not for long. He could see the same risk-taking glitter in the New York detective’s eyes. Tubbs would follow procedure because it had been beaten into him with the NYPD, not because it was in his nature. But he’d proven he was fast enough to keep up with Crockett, and good enough to look after himself when Sonny got them in too deep. Maybe that was all he could hope for.

Lou looked at his watch and scowled. The meet should have been over at least thirty minutes ago. Switek and Zito wouldn’t be back for a couple of hours, since they had to follow the case. But Sonny and Rico should have been back by now. He was starting to prepare his ‘where the hell have you two been’ speech when the outer doors crashed open and Crockett and Tubbs came through. He didn’t get up. “Crockett! Tubbs! My office!”

A cigarette dangled from the corner of Crockett’s mouth as he sat down. “The whole thing went off clean as you please, Lou. The rest of the deal’s going down tomorrow night at 2300. We’ll have a briefing ready by 1500 so people have time to get into position before it goes down.” He grinned. “New York here did fine out there.”

“I aim to please.” But Lou saw the quick flash of anger in Rico’s dark eyes. “Vito’s nervous, but he’s coverin’ it by trying to play big man.”

“Yeah, but he’s one of the ones from Quintaro’s crew who’s got potential.” Sonny sent a thin trail of smoke toward the ceiling. “He also did most of the boat work, so he’d have the connections down south.”

“I just wonder what’s got him so knotted up about supply. You’d think if he was that tight he’d have more than the weight he’s claiming on hand.”

“Maybe he does, Tubbs. Maybe he’s playing hard to get.”

Lou shook his head. “It doesn’t matter to me. A twenty key buy gets him off the street as fast as a fifty key buy. And I want him off the street.”

“You got it, lieutenant.” Lou didn’t miss Rico responding too quick for Sonny to get a word in. “After tomorrow night he’s the DA’s problem, not ours.”

“Good work today. Both of you. Now go home and get some sleep. Busy day tomorrow.” He looked up for a moment. “And Crockett, I thought you’d like to know. The city settled with Eddie Rivera’s widow.”

Once they were gone, Lou let out a long sigh. Another look at his watch told him he needed to go, no matter how much he wanted to look through the pimp case report again. He’d missed dinner twice so far this week, and that was all Maria allowed. If he left now he’d just make it and avoid a night of old-school Roman Catholic silent treatment.

He wished he could be sure about his little experiment. Sure that Tubbs would settle Crockett down. Sure that Tubbs could keep his temper under control long enough to learn how to operate in South Florida from Crockett. But he wasn’t sure. All he had was his gut telling him those two were perfect partners and that they’d go far. And in all his years wearing a badge he’d learned sometimes your gut was all you had, even if you couldn’t understand it. Clicking off the desk lamp he shrugged on his suit coat and headed out the door. With any luck traffic would be more forgiving than Maria.

 

If he closed his eyes Rico could almost pretend he was back on the fire escape outside his apartment in the Bronx. The roar of passing cars. Shouts from below on the street. But then the salt tang breeze hit his nose and he knew New York was far away. Maybe gone forever.

Shaking his head, he opened his eyes and looked around. The hotel balcony had a great view of the beach, and even now a handful of lovelies almost wearing bikinis were trying to snatch the last rays of the dying afternoon sun. It wasn’t like he had anything to go back to in New York. Only memories. His brother was dead, his father hadn’t talked to him since before the funeral, and Valerie…who knew where she was. His mother he knew wouldn’t break the silence imposed by the old man, and he’d never forgive Rico for the death of his oldest son.

No, that wasn’t quite it. He’d never forgive the Job for the death of Rafael, and Rico was the badge by extension. So there was no family to go back to. And the Job had made it perfectly clear they didn’t want him anywhere in the area, but he couldn’t blame them. Not when he’d gone so far off the reservation. Once again he thanked whatever it was that had made Lou Rodriguez stick his neck out and get him a job. So he could at least start over here.

But that left Valerie. Sighing, he turned and went back into the room, closing the sliding glass door behind him and pouring a generous measure of scotch into the glass on the small table. He’d met her just out the Academy, when they were both young and full of the optimism that comes with an untarnished badge. They kept crossing paths, coming together and drifting apart. But somehow they always found each other again. Even after he’d ended up in the Bronx on Armed Robbery and she’d been promoted to Homicide out of Brooklyn.

That was when things started falling apart. The scotch warmed a trail down his throat as he stood in the cone of the air conditioning, letting the cool air dry the sweat on his face. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but at some point during his second year in Armed Robbery she started calling less and ducking his calls more. When Rico complained to his brother, Rafael just smiled. “I warned you about that type, little bro. Nothing but trouble.” Then he found out she’d shifted to Organized Crime from Homicide.

Still, she’d call on occasion. And he just couldn’t shake her from his heart. If there was one thing that might take him back to New York, it was Valerie.

Shaking his head, he took another drink. He needed to get his mind on this case. On the problem that was Vitorio Ordonez. It wasn’t much of a buy, but like the lieutenant said it would get him off the streets. And maybe it was another test. To see how he and Crockett worked together.

He still wasn’t sure what to think of his new partner. One minute he was all juiced up and ready to break heads, and the next he’d talk about how he hadn’t been there much for his son. His marriage was doomed…Rico had seen enough cops sliding out of those to know the signs. But wasn’t going to be the one to break that news to Crockett. But he had to admit there was a damned good cop lurking behind the adrenalin junky cowboy. He just knew he’d have to watch his own back and move fast to keep up. Sonny Crockett didn’t seem like the type who spent much time watching his partner’s back.

He was about to pour another drink when the room phone rang. Rico looked at it, wondering who the hell would be calling him. Finally he snatched it up on the fifth ring. “Yeah?”

Valerie’s voice was thin and soft. Like he knew it got when she drank too much. “I called that office of yours and they gave me your number. Took some doin’, though. Even wanted my damned badge number.”

“Val…”

“Yeah. Last person you expected to hear from.” She laughed, a mean thing down in her throat. “I wasn’t plannin’ on this, either. But work…you know…”

“Yeah. Must be a drag in the Organized Crime detail these days.”

She sighed, and he could hear her long nails drumming on a table or desk. He wondered if she was calling from her Brooklyn apartment or some hotel room in Queens or wherever the hell her squad had her holed up. “It ain’t all like that, babe. I just wanted to say sorry about Rafael. I never got to do that right.”

“Not like I gave you much time.” Rico unbent a little. He had to. He’d ducked out of New York after shooting Calderone’s bodyguard as fast as he could. Getting tied up for weeks with some IAB witch-hunt hadn’t been on his to-do list.

“And I didn’t give you much time when you called the night before. I wanted to, Rico. Really did. But…”

“You were working. I get it.”

He heard ice clinking in a glass. “I hear you’re off the force.”

“NYPD? Yeah. They said thanks but no thanks.” Rico chuckled. “Can’t say’s I blame them. Too much dirty laundry woulda gotten hung out in public. Besides, they got better clothes down here in the damned seized property lockers. Armani and everything.”

This time her laugh wasn’t mean. “You always were a dresser, Rico.” The ice clinked again. “I shouldn’t have called.”

“Val…”

“No, it’s always like this. We try, an’ then something comes between. It’s just so damned hard, Rico.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way.” He could feel her slipping away. Going to that dark place of hers where nothing made sense.

“Oh, but it does. I’m sorry, Rico. I really am…” Then the receiver buzzed hollow and empty in his ear.

 

Morning came too soon, and Rico found himself sitting at his desk going through last night’s surveillance logs waiting for Sonny to get in. The desk was getting there. He’d added a few touches of his own, and had a cup of coffee perched on the corner to keep his rumpled desk calendar company. They’d done a good job cleaning it out, and he was starting to forget he was sitting in a dead man’s spot.

Sonny was the last one to arrive, still wearing his Ray Bans and taking a deep drag off a Lucky Strike. Rico grinned behind his coffee cup, knowing his new partner’s eyes were likely blood red. “Long night, partner?”

Sonny snorted. “Somethin’ like that. I go to thinkin’ about what old Vito might be looking to gain from all this.”

“That damned walking suitcase help you do your thinking?”

“Hey! Sometimes Elvis is a help. Ain’t quite got him trained to fetch beers without punchin’ holes in the cans, but a guy can dream.”

Rico shook his head. “I’ve been looking through the logs. Looks like that place Vito wants to meet gets used regularly by a branch of some outfit called the 20^th Street Aces for street dealin’.”

“Surveillance logs?”

“Yeah. We used those up in the Bronx to track crews.”

“Well, it ain’t no surprise he’d want to deal there, then. Old Vito used to be an Ace before he started running with Quintaro.” Sonny pulled a folder out of the mess that was the right-hand corner of his desk. “I pulled his jacket yesterday to read ahead.”

“You think he’s workin’ with them now?”

“Naw. He’s too big for that crew. At least in his own head.” Sonny tossed the folder across the space between the two desks. “But that gives us another problem. They might try to rip him. Cut him down to size a bit.” He crushed out his cigarette in an ash tray perched on the left corner of the desk and took off his sunglasses, wincing at the fluorescents. “Damn. Shoulda left those on.”

Rico ignored the opening. “So, do we read the lieutenant in on that little tidbit?”

“Naw. He’d want to send more backup, and those boys would scare off Vito. We want to grab this clown we gotta stick with the original plan. You go in as Taylor with the buy money and I come along as Burnett to make sure I get my finder’s fee.” He shook his head, then winced. “And we gotta find you a better cover.”

“You said that already. I’m kinda partial to Rico Cooper, but we’ll wear this one out first.”

“Cooper.” Sonny seemed to roll the name around in his head and on his tongue. “Yeah. That’s got a simple ring to it. Guy who could be from anywhere and likely has a boatload of cash behind him.”

“Glad you like it.” In truth Rico didn’t care if his partner liked the name or not. It would work for him, and that’s what mattered. “And any idea about what kind of friends Vito might bring to our little dance?

 

The conference room was about half full, with Lou Rodriguez parked in a cloud of cigar smoke at the head of the table and the rest fanning away on both sides. Rico let Sonny do most of the talking, content to watch the rest of the squad and firm up his opinions of them.

Stan and Larry sat together alternately taking notes or laughing about some inside joke or another that made sense only to them. Sonny might call them Bluto and Lee Harvey Oswald, but they reminded Rico more of Laurel and Hardy…one big where the other was thin. But there was something about them that wasn’t comic at all. Larry could look slack-jawed one second and then move with a speed and assurance that reminded Rico of boxers he’d known growing up. And Stan…behind the Elvis-quoting exterior he caught glimpses of someone who was strong and knew what the hell he was about.

The uniforms were represented by a patrolman second class who looked like he was just waiting for his shift to end so he could go home to his fat wife and three equally-fat kids. Rico snorted inside. Back on Armed Robbery they’d had a special backup unit, trained to move in with them if things went south. Watching the guy draw circles on his pad, Rico could only hope Sonny’s predictions about the meet came true.

He forced himself to tune back into the briefing. “…and we know Vito usually moves with at least two bodyguards.” Sonny waved his hand to take in the group. “But I don’t think that will be a problem for us.”

“Count on it, Sonny.” Lester looked up from his notes. “His boys try anything, we’ll clamp down on ‘em so fast they won’t know what hit them. Ain’t that right, Stan?”

“You got it, Lar.” Switek grinned. “So long as Peters over there can get his fat ass out of his squad car.”

“Up yours, Switek.” The uniform cracked a smile at what Rico assumed must be some longstanding joke. “We’ll be there to save you pretty boys.”

Lou looked up. “That’s enough. Peters, you make sure your people aren’t in plain view. I don’t want a repeat of the Franklin situation. Are we clear?”

“Yes, lieutenant.” Peters almost swallowed his gum.

“Good. Crockett, Tubbs. We can’t send you in wired, but Zito assures me the boom mic can pick you up from a safe distance. Isn’t that right, Zito?”

“You got it, lieutenant. We can listen in from across the street. Got a spot for the van already picked out.”

“Good. You know the signals?”

Sonny nodded from the podium. “We’re good there, Lou. Make my day if the deal’s good and who the hell do you think you are if it’s a rip.”

Lou nodded, and Rico could see the end of his cigar glow as he took a puff. “Let’s get moving, people. I want everyone else in position before Crockett and Tubbs roll out. This is 20^th Street Aces turf. According to Gangs they’ve been quiet, but we all know how quickly that can change. And I’ll be in the van with Switek and Zito.”

“Aw, lieutenant.” Larry’s whine was practiced. “We just got the old girl cleaned. You know how expensive those hangie pine things are?”

“Can it! Let’s get moving. The deal’s not until 2300 so grab some food or something. But I want backup on station no later than 2200.”

Once the room cleared, Rico looked up the length of the table at Sonny and shrugged. “Guess it’s our show now, partner.”

“Joo got it, meng.” Sonny looked up and laughed. “Sorry. I forgot. You’ll get it when you meet Moreno. CI I’ve got. The little fruit is from Havana by way of Mars. He gets good info sometimes, but he’s out there. And I mean OUT there.”

“Can’t wait.” Rico shook his head. He’d had his share of strange rangers back in the Bronx, starting with Little Leo. But you took what you could get with CIs, and if they produced you stuck with them no matter how strange they were. “But I gotta agree with the lieutenant. Some food would be good before this goes down. If you’re up to it.”

“Yeah. Let’s blow this pop stand and grab a bite. But I gotta swing by the boat and feed Elvis first.” Sonny pulled on his Ray Bans. “You wanna tag along?”

“So long as I ain’t on the menu, I’m game.”

 

Lou heard rather than saw his two detectives leave, their banter coming through his partly-open office door as they headed out. Shaking his head, he looked against at the new folder on his desk. They might not have wanted him here, but they sure didn’t waste any time putting him to work.

Every year or so the mayor launched an effort to clean up smut in Miami. It didn’t matter who was sitting in the mayor’s chair. The campaign made for good, quick headlines and usually rounded up a boatload of hookers, a few pimps, and an assortment of porno actors and producers. Arrest numbers went up, along with low-level convictions and fine revenues, and since most of the accused were released with slaps on the wrist it didn’t clog the jail system. Maybe I am getting too old for this he thought as he looked at the folder containing what he’d come to consider one of the rites of spring.

Normally the Vice unit’s contribution was Gina and Trudy to sweep up a pimp or three and Sonny and his partner of the month to bring in a small-scale porno shoot or maybe some hookers. But some bright spark up the food chain had noticed they had an honest-to-goodness Yankee on the squad now, and a fresh face in the bargain. And that had started them thinking. Nothing bothered Lou more than bosses thinking…unless it was Crockett playing cowboy again.

Still, he’d been able to push this one off until they finished their current operation. If they wanted Crockett and Tubbs by name, they’d have to wait until Ordonez was in the bag. He flipped the folder open and looked at the front page again. This time they weren’t aiming for a nickel and dime porno shoot. This time they were going for one of the major players, using Tubbs’ new guy shine as a way to slip in two buyers down from New Jersey to make a big purchase. But this time it was movies for their peep shows instead of Columbian coke.

Ordonez had to come first, though. Closing the folder, Lou pushed it aside, running through the plan Crockett had briefed not long before. But he couldn’t get this new op out of his mind. Going after Sam Kovacs wasn’t something you did on a whim. Porn was only one of his rackets, even if it was the biggest. Glaring at the cigar butt in his ash tray, Lou picked up the phone and stabbed numbers. “This is Rodriguez. Bring me the file on Sam Kovacs. Any linked files, too, please.”

 

Rico chewed the last mouthful of his Cuban sandwich, watching Sonny chase ketchup on his plate with his few remaining french fries. For once the ticking suitcase had been agreeable, and they hadn’t spent much time on the boat. They’d killed a little time driving around the heart of Maimi, Sonny playing the role of underworld tour guide and pointing out the hot spots that mattered in their line of work. Corner drug markets. The various strolls the hookers worked. Various gang turfs up close and personal. It was the kind of thing patrol cops usually did with their new partners.

And the sandwich hadn’t been half bad. He knew the food was going to be one of the adjustments he’d have to make, coming from a place where having too many choices was a way of life. But the little diner Sonny picked was away from the tourist crowds, the coffee was good, and the food hadn’t been fried within an inch of its life. And the waitress hadn’t given him a look when he asked for salad instead of fries.

Sonny chewed his last fry with a quizzical look on his face. “So what does New York think of our little neon playground?”

Rico grinned, sensing the trap in the question. “You got more stucco than brick down here, but get rid of that and one drug corner here looks damned near the same as one up there. Mean streets is mean streets. And a cop’s always gotta know where they are.”

“Yeah. I guess they do.” Sonny took a drink of coffee, and Rico could sense him framing another question. “How do you wanna work this?”

“I figure same as last time. I’ll talk money and you do your thing. If that works for you.”

“Yeah.” Sonny looked down at his plate. “You know, I’ve run a few covers in my day. But this Burnett one seems to fit better.”

“Just a fun time guy with a fast boat? I can dig that.”

“Yeah. It’s always better when the cover’s kinda natural. You know, one time Lou wanted me to go all neo-Nazi as a cover. Some arms bust or another a couple of years back. Now that one just didn’t fit. Used the same name, though. Burnett.” He chuckled. “Good thing skinheads and dealers don’t run in the same social circles.”

“You can always say you went true American. Pure capitalist.” Rico laughed at the thought. “NYPD never asked me to go all Nation of Islam, but they probably would have if those chumps started pulling bank jobs.”

“So your squad didn’t do much undercover?”

“Naw. My partner up there, Victor Sanchez, only went under once or twice, and he had ten years on me. But he didn’t like UC. Most of ‘em didn’t.”

“But you did.”

“Yeah. My brother did quite a bit of it in Narcotics. He…” Rico paused, skirting memories he’d rather leave untouched for now. “He said I was a natural.”

“Well, I don’t know as I’d go that far, but for someone who hasn’t done it much you’re damned good. But we gotta be good down here. Some of these Latin bozos have long memories. They move through enough it’s new faces all the time, but there’s a handful that stay back in the shadows.”

“Yeah. We were always buttin’ heads with the Mob, so I get the thing with chumps in the shadows.”

Sonny looked at his watch and tossed some money on the table. “We’d better get moving unless we want to be late to our own party. Assuming there still is one. I didn’t like the idea of people being in position ahead of time, but when Lou’s got that look on his face you don’t argue with the man.”

The first thing Rico noticed was how many streetlights didn’t work as they go closer to the meeting spot. “Man, that’s always a bad sign. These many lights always down or did they have help?”

“It’s hit or miss out here, partner.” Sonny drove with one hand on the wheel, his whole being focused on the action ahead. “Last time I was down this way quite a few were out. Old Vito wouldn’t have had to do much if he was wantin’ us blacked out.”

“Solid.” But Rico shifted in the passenger seat, feeling the comforting weight of his Smith & Wesson. At least they weren’t going in naked.

When Sonny made the last turn, the Daytona’s headlights swept across a Monte Carlo and some kind of bigger town car parked down by the crumbling remains of the old gas station’s garage. He hadn’t seen any of the backup, and hoped they were out there somewhere in the deeper shadows. He caught himself and smiled. He’d be pissed if he had seen any of the backup. The Ferrari’s tires crunched over loose gravel as Sonny rolled past the dead pumps and came to a stop twenty feet from the two cars. It was exactly eleven.

It was hard to miss Vito standing by the front of the black Monte Carlo, a chunky figure with a light dress shirt unbuttoned about three buttons too far and gold chains. His guys were harder to miss, back by the town car in what looked to be dark track suits or business casual. “Someone don’t like sharing the spotlight,” he muttered to Sonny as they stepped out of the low Ferrari.

“You got that right. Got the buy money?” Rico hefted the thick briefcase in reply. “Good. Then let’s get this party started.”

Vito came away from the car with a grin on his face. “Burnett! Taylor! So glad you could make it! Maybe someday someone will fix this place up. You think?”

“Seems good for what it’s doin’ now.” Rico looked straight at the goons. “You not trust us with all that muscle?”

“You two? Of course I do. But this neighborhood, she isn’t the best these days. A man has to protect his investments.”

Sonny closed the distance, and Rico could hear his white slip-ons disturbing bits of broken glass from some wino’s empty bottle. “Yeah, I guess a man does at that.”

Rico hung back. “You got the party favors? My man Burnett’s gonna do a check. Make sure everything’s cool. You can send one of your apes to check the cash.” He held up the case.

“You heard the man, Paco. Go check.” Vito waved his hand. “Tino, bring up the product. I want Burnett to pick his key.”

Rico watched the men move away from the shadows. Nine keys left, so it all should fit in a big gym bag. He could feel his New York reflexes spinning into overdrive. Up there a deal smaller than twenty keys was always about the rip. But down here it seemed to be the Florida version of a handshake. Maybe that’s part of being closer to the wholesale end. Nothing under fifty keys is worth the trouble. Still, he watched.

When the big man got close, he set the briefcase on the Daytona’s hood and popped the latches. The goofball didn’t even make eye contact, just picked stacks at random and flipped through them. Finally satisfied, he turned back and nodded.

Rico could see Sonny busy with the gym bag, cutting open bricks and adding traces of the contents to his test kits. On the third one he saw a change in his partner’s posture. Small, but there. Rico undid the last button on his suit coat, covering the move by slamming the case closed. “That’s your free look, chump. When Burnett says you get the case. Not before.”

He watched Sonny hold the plastic pouch up to the light once, then again. “Who do you think you are, pal?”

Goodbye Richard Taylor. Never liked your dry ass anyhow. “Freeze!” His right had flashed under his coat and came up filled with the little Smith. “Maimi Vice!” He saw glints as Sonny drew that big cannon of his, and then sirens shattered the stillness of the night around them.

“Cops!” The big man closest to Rico pulled his own piece and blasted off a shot in the general direction of the oncoming patrol cars before Rico dropped him with two .38s to the chest. The pops of his revolver were swallowed up by the boom of the big 10mm as Sonny started squeezing off shots at the other two goons by the car. Vito lay flat on the ground, his arms outstretched and face buried in the dirt.

 

Lou looked at the handwritten report. “So you say they tried to pass cut coke? Is that it?”

“Yeah.” Sonny looked at Rico and shrugged. “The first two keys were good. At least 80 proof. And then I hit that third one. Didn’t clear forty. I tried one more to be sure. Same thing. You only do that in this town if you’re an idiot or trying a rip.”

Rico nodded, thinking back to the big guy’s moves by the Daytona. “Yeah. The chump counting the money wasn’t in any hurry to leave. Usually they want to grab the cash and get back to the deal. Not this fool. I think he was waiting to plug me as soon as Vito gave the word.”

“And is Ordonez talking?”

“Not yet. He’s still cleaning out his shorts. Switek and Zito are sitting on him down at central booking.”

Lou nodded. “Have them or Dibble conduct the interrogation. I’ve got something special for you two.” He tapped the folder on his desk. “You know what time it is, Crockett?”

Sonny moaned. “Come on, Lou! You ain’t gonna stick us on pimp patrol, are you? I got my last three reports in on time! This isn’t…”

“Can it, Crockett! No, you’re not on pimp patrol, whatever the hell that is. The chief asked for you two by name for this one. He wants you to go after Sam Kovacs.”

Rico looked confused. “Is that…”

“He’s a big time porn producer down here.” Sonny grinned. “Don’t ask Zito about him. He’ll tell you every award the slime ball’s movies have won in the last five years. And I’m not kidding.”

“Porn’s legal down here, right?”

Lou nodded. “But not with drugs and underage girls. Both of which Kovacs is rumored to specialize in. We’ve tried a time or two to get to him, but he’s not interested in local deals.” Lou’s smile made Rico’s skin crawl just a bit. “But now we have an outside buyer. Two of them, in fact.”

“You expect me to pretend I’m from New York?”

“No, Crockett. New Jersey.”

Rico grinned. “Perfect. The theater and peep show trade in Atlantic City alone would keep this Kovacs afloat for years.”

“That’s what we’re hoping, Tubbs. How well do you know that trade?”

“Well enough to fake it with some chump down here. I’ll do some research before we meet, though.”

“Good.” Lou opened the folder and pulled out a picture of a pasty white boy with one of those All-American faces that usually covered a multitude of sins. “This is one of his main producers.”

Sonny nodded. “Jimmy Conway. We tried to make him for drugs a few years back. Came up empty.”

“His number’s in the file. Go through it, work up a plan, and get it to me as soon as you can. It’s a business, so you can call the creep and set up a regular meeting.” Lou’s voice changed. “Maybe tour the set or something.”

Back in the squad room, Rico turned to Sonny and grinned. “You’ll feel right at home pretending you’re from New Jersey, partner. They got swamps and everything.”

“Up yours, pal.” But Sonny was grinning. “Let’s go through this stuff and see what we can put together. This Kovacs is a bad dude. But insulated. No one’s ever been able to make anything stick on him.”

“There’s always a first time, partner.” Rico looked at Jimmy’s pretty boy picture. “There’s always a first time.”

[vicegirl85]

I'm so behind on reading!  Covid-19 is just beating me up (not sick, just dealing with everything at work).

Love the little character details you work in for each one of them.  Looking forward to reading more soon-ish!

[Robbie C.]

Glad you enjoyed it!

[Kladdagh]

I can't believe I didn't see your work before ... Was great like always !

[Robbie C.]

Glad you're enjoying it all!

[sdiegolo78]

I really dig this one as well as 'partners'! They could have made good episodes between the pilot and heart of darkness.

[Robbie C.]

Thanks. I wrote them that way, since the show did leave some pretty big gaps.

[sdiegolo78]

6 minutes ago, Robbie C. said:

, since the show did leave some pretty big gaps.

well, that's no surprise! And many other gaps followed as the show ran.

[mjcmmv]

I love how this flowed so smoothly into Heart of Darkness. You gave us a chance to see Rico's past before he came to Miami-something the show treated way to lightly.

And I always liked Lou, but he was too one-dimensional in the show. In this story, you let us hear his thoughts about Crockett and Tubbs as partners, as well as his justification for allowing Tubbs to become a part of the squad.

Thanks for filling in all those holes, Robbie. Good story and great writing, as always!

 

[Mr. Vigilante]

Nice work!  I've gotta find the time to read more of your stories. 

[vicegirl85]

25 minutes ago, Mr. Vigilante said:

Nice work!  I've gotta find the time to read more of your stories. 

Robbie's stories are great!  I still need to finish some of his longer multipart stories myself, but they're well worth the time spent!