Rotten to the Core

[Robbie C.]

A series timeline story. Brings back a character I found rather interesting.

 

“And you have no idea what happened to them?”

Sonny Crockett stood in front of Lieutenant Martin Castillo’s desk, trying to breathe and control his anger. “No, I don’t, lieutenant. And before you ask, I didn’t leave them at some girl’s apartment.”

Castillo looked up, his eyes dark and flat. “I wasn’t going to ask.”

“Sorry, lieutenant. I…I just don’t know how they got switched with these knock-offs.”

“Write it up.” Castillo looked down at the paperwork in his desk, and Sonny was sure he saw a trace of a smile on the man’s face. “Those counterfeits look good enough to pass for now. You won’t be drawing replacements.”

Back in the squad room, Ricardo Tubbs was standing by his desk with a wide smile. “Looks like Castillo let you keep your backside this time, partner.”

“Only just, Rico.” Sonny grinned in spite of himself. It was hard to stay angry in the face of Rico’s grin. “But I gotta keep these cheapo things. And if I ever find out who took the real ones…”

“Come on, Sonny. It’s a good day if all you have to worry about is who switched your damned sunglasses.” Tubbs chuckled, and then his expression changed. “Let’s go, partner. I think we got a case.”

Sonny nodded, grabbing his light gray blazer off the back of his chair. “Don’t tell me one of those bozos on the payroll came through?”

“Yeah. One of the chumps we let off for that nickle buy over near the Keys dropped a dime. Said he got a line on a big deal going down.” Rico chuckled. “Course it could be nothin’.”

“Yeah, but we gotta run it down.” As they left the squad room he thought he saw a hint of a grin on Switek’s face, but the moment vanished as soon as they hit the Miami heat. “Remind me again why this is a good idea.”

“It gets you out of Castillo’s hair, partner. That and we can ride with the top down.”

“Yeah. Damned Ferrari’s still in the shop. You’d think an oil change would be quicker than that.”

“Maybe they have to import the oil special. You know, hand drilled by virgins in the desert.”

“Come on, Tubbs. Let’s get this over and done with.” Sonny grinned as he slid into the passenger seat of Rico’s big convertible. “There’s a cold beer with my name on it back at the boat.” Even after the sunglasses he was in a good mood. Their last case had gone down well…perps and coke in custody and a solid case handed off to a grateful DA. Even Castillo had managed one of his smiles when they handed in their reports. And if they could bring in another one… “And the bozo didn’t give you any idea what this was about?”

“No more than I told you, Sonny. He sounded all fired up, but that don’t mean squat with these chumps.” Rico started the big car and guided it out of the OCB lot and into mid-morning traffic. “We popped ‘em for under five keys. Anything over that is gonna look huge to them.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sonny leaned back in the seat, feeling a familiar tickling sensation at the base of his neck. Like a spider was strolling along. It’s just a routine meet. Nothing out of the ordinary. But he’d been feeling off his game ever since they’d gotten back from New York City. Something about rubbing elbows with that corpse of a banker…a bastard so open about his own corruption and so sure Sonny couldn’t touch him. Yeah…I told him I’m patient, but that was a lie. And it bothered him the weasel had gotten under his skin so effortlessly.

“You ok, partner?”

“Yeah. Just got New York on my mind.”

Tubbs nodded. “Yeah. Place gets under your skin, don’t it?”

“Not the place so much as the people.”

“The zombie banker? Forget about it, partner. One thing I learned with NYPD is there’s a class of untouchables in those damned skyscrapers. He’s one of ‘em. All we can do…”

“…is what we can do.” Sonny finished the line with a forced smile. “I know, Rico. I know. Maybe I’ll feel better after we lean on these bozos. Make another real bust.”

“Keep Castillo happy. That’s what I say.”

“Yeah…it does tend to make life easier.” Sonny grinned, forcing himself to relax. Springtime in Miami, after all. Man…just let it go. “And at least we don’t have to go through that clown Izzy for this one.”

The meet took place in one of the dingy bars on the edge of Greater Miami, places people stopped on the way into or out of the city because they were handy. The drinker’s version of a no-tell motel. Sonny looked at Rico and raised an eyebrow. “Guess our boy’s afraid someone might recognize him back in civilization.”

“Yeah. Man, I’m gonna have to send the threads to the dry cleaners again after this.” Rico parked the big car and glared at the flickering neon sign spelling out ‘BAR’ in big blue letters. “There goes half my damned take-home.”

“Write the mayor, Rico. Or the police commissioner.”

“I just might do that, partner. Especially if the chump is a no-show.”

“We couldn’t get that lucky.” Sonny grinned and pushed his sunglasses up on his nose.

“At least the dump is air conditioned.”

But it didn’t help. Sonny figured no amount of air conditioning could cut through the haze of stale beer and cigarette smoke. Bar on the left. Pool tables and jukebox on the right. Yeah…just like a hundred other places I’ve been in around here. He let Rico take the lead, following his Armani-clad partner toward the far end of the bar. “Carlo. This better be good.”

The informant was a pasty man of medium height and receding hairline, with the facial ticks Sonny associated with too much speed and not enough common sense. How the guy ended up attached to a coke deal was one of life’s mysteries he didn’t want to unravel. “He’s right, pal. This better be damned good.”

“Hey, guys.” Carlo’s voice was high and thin. “Yeah…it’s good. For sure it’s good. Good enough to maybe count…”

“We’ll decide what it counts for once you tell us.” Sonny kept the sunglasses on, shifting his posture so he loomed over the man without appearing to.

Rico’s voice was equally hard. “This ain’t ‘Let’s Make a Deal.’ You talk, we decide what it’s worth. And you don’t wanna know what’s behind Door Number Three. Dig?”

“Yeah…yeah. I get it.” Carlo sighed and took a drink from the Budweiser bottle in front of him. “First off, this ain’t my deal, see? I stay away from that coke shit. Except for that one time. But I still hear things. Lots of things.”

“I thought this was a group thing. Where’s your partner, Carlo?”

“You know Tony don’t like cops. That…an’ he’s in county. Bar fight last week.”

“Great! I shoulda known you bozos couldn’t stay out of trouble.”

“No, man. That’s the good part. Tony heard about the deal in county an’ told me when I visited him yesterday.”

Rico grinned. “You know we can check that, right? Visitor logs. Cameras. All that good stuff.”

“Yeah, I do. One way you know I ain’t stringin’ you along.”

Sonny chuckled. “He’s got a point, partner.” He turned back to Carlo. “So lay it out. What’s this deal?”

Carlo leaned forward, talking fast like he’d memorized the lines. “Tony’s cellmate got out day before yesterday. Beaner who called himself Juan an’ nothing else. Tony heard him talkin’ to another one of them south of the Border cowboys. Seems that guy was supposed to run security for some deal with out of town players until he got busted. He wanted Juan to fill in for him ‘cause he was gettin’ out sooner.”

“Now this is all just so pretty.” Rico grinned. “And impossible to verify. We need names, chump! Times! You know…real details.”

“I’m gettin’ there. Juan, he wasn’t into it until this other cat told him how much scratch was involved. Like ten grand just for standin’ there with a piece.”

“And where is this dance goin’ down?”

“Some fancy yacht club. Pelican’s Nest I think he said.” Carlo scrunched up his face. “Yeah…that’s what he said. Rich bastards come up with dumb names, don’t they?”

“Money doesn’t always equal brains, Carlo. Your buddy know when the dance is goin’ down?”

“Day after tomorrow. He don’t know what time, though.”

Rico looked over the informant at Sonny. “Solid. This pans out, you’ll get some credit.”

“But only if it pans it. You play us, Carlo…”

“I ain’t playin’ you. I told you, this ain’t our game. Not by a long shot. Ten grand sounds good until you get holes in you.”

Rico waited until they were outside to laugh. “Man, I thought that fool was gonna piss himself right there.”

“Yeah.” Sonny looked around out of habit. In his experience bad things happened when you came out of a bar in this part of town without checking the neighborhood. “You believe that grease stain?”

“About as much as you do, partner. We can check the logs at county and see if he did visit, and then see who this Juan really is an’ who he was hangin’ with in lockup.”

“Yeah. Let’s keep this Tony out of it if we can.” Sonny settled into the passenger seat, the spider still twitching on the back of his neck. Feels like someone’s out there, but I didn’t see squat. Must be the spring humidity or something. “I’d like to keep one of those bozos on the hook if we can.”

“Might have to pass him off to Switek and Zito, though. This is more their kinda place.”

“Yeah. But don’t tell ‘em until after this case. We’re gonna need them to run surveillance on this yacht club.” Sonny looked out the open window as they flashed past slower cars. “And I think we’re gonna have to look at getting Mr. Cooper some kind of membership or guest pass. Place like that’s too highbrow for Burnett.”

“Yeah. You need to move him up a bit socially, Sonny.”

“I know, Rico. But you can be the first to break the color line. I’ll bet that dump’s so old-fashioned they have Confederate flags in the club room and the doorbell chimes ‘Dixie.’”

“Sign me up.” Sonny grinned when he saw the firm line growing on Rico’s jawline.

They met with Castillo just after lunch, using the time to build their plan and check details. “According to Corrections this Carlo’s on the level, lieutenant. He did visit Tony when he said he did, and records show Tony’s former cellmate was a guy named Juan Hidalgo. We ran him, and he comes up with ties to the Alcazar operation. Mid-level local players, but they’ve been trying to expand out of South Florida for the last couple of months.”

“A yacht club’s a good place to meet with out-of-town buyers. They can just sail up and down the coast without anyone being the wiser.” Rico waved his hand. “And they’re gonna be loaded, too. No two-bit corner hustler goes into an operation like Pelican’s Nest unless he’s moonlighting as a delivery driver.”

Castillo looked up. He’d been studying the papers in front of him for five minutes without reaction. “The Pelican’s Nest is on a watchlist. A Federal watchlist.”

Sonny felt the anger rising in his chest. “Does that mean we drop it?”

“No. It means we do everything by the book.” Castillo looked from one man to the other. “Get with Switek and Zito and arrange for surveillance. If there are other agencies in the area I want to know about it.”

 

“At least we don’t have to worry about Newton Blade this time.”

Sonny chuckled, raising his glass for a quick sip of Black Jack. The bar was down close to the water, within easy sight of Pelican’s Nest without being obvious. “Yeah. Ten to one he’s out in that damned big rowboat of his chugging around Bermuda. Last I heard the DEA wanted to talk to him about some illegal imports of the powdery kind.”

“Solid.” Tubbs’ drink was as colorful as the umbrella it sported, and Sonny was afraid to ask what it was called. “Don’t know that he’d be glad to see us, either, after that business with the brothers.”

“You got that right.” He took another drink, glad for the shade the bar’s patio provided. “See any Fed specials idling on the curb?”

Rico chuckled. “Not a tan Ford to be seen, partner. But it’s early yet. They’re probably still picking out suits from the Sears seconds rack. Bringing their moms along for the senior citizens’ discount.”

“Castillo could have told us which bowl of alphabet soup was waiting in the wings.”

“Yeah, but you know him. Why use one word when none will do. That an’ he might not know.”

“Right. And I’m Michael Freakin’ Jackson.” Still, the thought nagged at Sonny. Why didn’t he tell us whose watchlist this dump’s on?

“Any sign of Switek and Zito?”

The question bounced him out of his thoughts. “Yeah. Turns out the market across from the club has a roach problem. So they set up out front. Looks natural as hell.” He grinned. “Or at least as natural as a puke-green van with a mechanical fly on the roof can look.” He swirled the remainder of the bourbon in his glass. “But they’ve got a good view of the place, and the mic in the van can pick up conversations out on the club’s dock.”

“How much do you think they’ll get? The deal goes down the day after tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I know. Maybe a few of the players if we’re lucky. Thing is, Rico, we don’t even know who’s in the game. Only this punk Hidalgo and his ties to the Alcazar organization. We gotta get a look inside that dump.”

“And how you plan on doin’ that? Waltzing in there in your SS uniform with me as your faithful manservant?”

“Naw. But I got an idea. They may be a bunch of racist bastards, but you gotta believe they only see one color as being above the rest - green. Mr. Cooper goes up there with those Armani threads and a big wad of cash, they aren’t gonna care if you’re black, brown, or have two damned heads.”

“Could be, but white sheets don’t figure into my idea of a good time, partner.” He grinned. “Unless they’re silk and a very lovely lady wearing nothing is between them.”

“Somehow I don’t think you’re gonna find that here. Or if you do the lieutenant’s gonna have some questions about your expense account.” Sonny set down his empty glass, looking at the sun sliding toward the horizon. “Let’s blow this pop stand and see if we can get Mr. Cooper some action. Day’s almost gone, and we only got tomorrow to work with before this deal goes down.”

Pelican’s Nest was nestled back in a grove of planted palm trees designed to hide its secrets from a prying world. The private marina wasn’t big by Miami standards, but Sonny could see it played host to some of the most expensive yachts in the area. He turned to Rico. “Place got its start back in the ‘20s. Rum runners from Cuba needed a place to put in and cool their heels. Liquid coke during Prohibition, so they all had buckets of cash.”

“Sounds like my kinda place.” Rico did one of his little quickstep dances as they walked up the curving drive.

“Yeah. You just don’t want to do too much digging on the grounds. Local legend says the grass is green because it’s well-fertilized, if you know what I mean.”

“What’s the plan?”

Sonny grinned at his partner’s ‘all business’ voice change. “Well, you’re a money guy from out of town and Sonny Burnett’s not quite sure what to do with that much action. Also, you own a ninety-foot motor yacht you want to bring down the coast and need marina space.”

“Discrete marina space.”

“Ju got it, meng.” Sonny adjusted his sunglasses as a big man with no neck detached himself from the shadows cloaking the wide entryway and started toward them. “Let me do the talking first.”

“Members only.” The big man had a voice like a rock crusher…full of gravel and with only one setting.

“Well, that’s what we’re here about.” Sonny grinned. “My business associate here is looking to bring his yacht down from the Hamptons.”

Rico shook his head. “To be honest, the dock looks a little small to me. We’re talking about a 90 foot motor yacht, not the little canoes I see out there now.”

The big man puffed up like some kind of toad. “We got big boats out there, too, sport.”

“Then you must be hiding them.”

Sonny raised his hand. “Mr. Cooper’s a man of expensive tastes, if you know what I mean.”

“Very expensive tastes. And expansive tastes. That’s ‘big,’” Rico added when the goon’s face twisted into a confused mask.

“Well I’ll be damned! Sonny Burnett! What the hell brings you down this way?”

Sonny looked away from the goon and focused on the slender, pale man coming out to the shaded veranda. “Otis Forsythe! Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“The surprise is mutual.” Raising a manicured hand, Forsythe dismissed the guard with his voice. “Mr. Burnett is my guest. And any guest of his is a guest of mine.” His pale blue eyes took in Rico as he brushed a shock of blonde hair away from his face. “A pleasure I’m sure. Now let’s get out of this wretched heat and into some cool drinks.”

“Solid.” Rico shot Sonny a quick look before the two followed the slender man inside. Just inside the paneled entryway he leaned close. “How do you know this cat?”

“Did a small run for him a couple of years back. Before you left New York’s finest. It wasn’t much…a key or so if I remember right, but he liked how it worked out.” Sonny grinned. “He’s an odd bird, Rico, but he’s from old Miami money and might be our ticket into this dump.”

It was hard to miss the big Confederate flag behind the coat check counter, and harder still to miss the thick scent of old money mixed with what had to be Cuban cigars wafting through the air. Sonny looked over at Rico and grinned. “This rich enough for you, New York?”

“Jury’s still out, Burnett.” Rico nodded toward the flag. “Can’t say I care much for the accessories.”

Forsythe’s laugh was surprisingly deep. “Old habits, I’m afraid, Mr…?”

“Cooper. Rico Cooper.”

“Mr. Cooper, then. As I said, old habits. I can say the newer members don’t subscribe to such foolishness. But so long as Beaumont heads the board I fear that rag will be on display.”

Sonny nodded, quick to jump in before Rico’s temper rose any higher. “Old Beaumont’s still kicking around, is he? I thought you’d bought him out after our last arrangement.”

“So did I, Mr. Burnett. So did I. But it turns out his pockets are deeper than his intellect. Miles deeper.” Forsythe flashed his capped teeth and brushed at the shock of hair again. “It was, you can be sure, a most unpleasant surprise.”

They paused at the bar to collect drinks, and then Forsythe led them to one of the club rooms off the main parlor and its big windows looking out over the marina. “Less fuss in here,” he said as he closed the door with a firm click. “And now maybe your friend will tell me why he’s so interested in our little anchorage?”

“Now, Otis. Let the man have his drink first. You lose your manners?”

“Of course.” Forsythe settled into a club chair, his slim form barely making the leather creak. “Let’s be seated and talk like gentlemen. Judging from your wardrobe, Sonny, you seem to have done well for yourself the past couple of years.”

“Can’t complain. The boats are fast, the women faster, and people always need fast boats to move goods they don’t want boys with badges knowin’ about.” Sonny grinned and took a drink, feeling the bourbon warm a path down his throat. “With the interest in recreational pharmaceuticals on the rise, it’s hard not to make a buck so long as you’ve got half a brain.”

“I’d assume so. Dipped my toe in that business and didn’t much care for it.” He raised a slim hand. “Can’t say a bad word about you, Sonny. You more than exceeded expectations. A shame that can’t be said for all those in the trade.”

“Surprised you didn’t call me again.”

“The part I didn’t care for was what came after the product was delivered. That and the man I bought the product from ended up disappearing somewhere off Bermuda. Or was it the Bahamas? I can’t keep those sand pits straight. Which isn’t to say I might not try the business again. With the right partners, of course. The money is something one just can’t sneeze at.”

“You got that right.” Rico adjusted his suit coat and set his empty glass down on a nearby end table carved from old, dark oak. “My associates are looking to expand their interests, so they sent me down to Miami. As part of that, I need a spot to dock a motor yacht. All ninety feet of her. Sonny here said Pelican’s Nest is discrete, so here we are.”

“Oh, we are, Rico. I may call you that, mightn’t I? Anyhow, Rico, the Nest is discrete. It’s also maddeningly exclusive. Thanks in no small part to Beaumont and his chums.”

“Take it you don’t like the cat much.”

“I despise the man. Common Panhandle trash who likes to play at being old money. I know in point of fact his money came from his father defrauding the Government on military contracts during World War Two. The man simply has no class. You’d have to get past him to gain entrance to the club and the marina by extension.”

“Money’s no object. I have unlimited resources from New York.”

“I’m sure you do. But…how do I put this…your skin color is an objection. A big one for Beaumont and his chums. Two buffoons from Alabama somewhere he put on the Board to back his decisions. I’ve told them many times that holding to those views in this day and age is not only wrong, it’s bad for the damned business.” Forsythe’s voice climbed almost an octave, then came back down as he calmed himself. “You must excuse me. I do get agitated when I talk about those idiots.”

“Tell you what, Otis. You let us worry about this Beaumont and his boys. I’d take it as a personal favor if you’d look into a membership for Mr. Cooper here. It could lead to bigger business.”

“And if nothing else you’d get the NAACP off your backs for a month or two.” Rico smiled as he spoke, but Sonny could hear the heat in his voice…something a stranger wouldn’t notice.

“Oh, our regular donations do that quite well, thank you.” Forsythe smiled just enough to show the comment was only partly in jest. “But I do think you’d like most of the Nest members, Rico. Leaving out the ruffians there are a number of cultured gentlemen. One or two are even from New York as well.”

Sonny saw the change in Rico’s posture. It wasn’t something most would notice, but after being his partner for years Sonny caught it. “Old white guys with Italian accents?”

“Goodness no! I do believe Beaumont hates the Wops almost as much as he does your people.” Forsythe raised his hands. “No offense, of course. Me? I moved beyond all that years ago. But he is so traditional when one doesn’t need to be. He’d likely blackball them if they were Jewish, too.”

Sonny nodded. “Guess he must have extended the cloak room to make room for his sheet collection.”

“You are a caution, Sonny Burnett. No question about that. But no, these Yankees are nowhere near as exciting as Don Whoever might be. Bankers, mostly, and dull as the day is long.”

Now Sonny felt himself tense up. “Bankers, you say?”

“Oh, not the big ones. Just the mid-level boys one step away from being con artists.” Tugging at a chain, Forsythe pulled out a heavy-looking gold pocket watch and popped the cover. “And now I must move on, I’m afraid. Dinner reservations. Not here, of course. The views are spectacular, the food not so much. The bar tends to make up for it, however.” He turned to Rico. “The membership deposit is ten thousand dollars. Bring that to the coat check desk tomorrow morning and you’ll find your membership at the ready.”

“But won’t this Beaumont…”

“Rico, this is one of my family legacy memberships. Beaumont can just go fuck himself if he was to complain.” Forsythe’s smile was suddenly vicious. “Drinks and food, and slip charges, come out of the deposit. If you need to head back to New York, you can turn in the membership card and get what’s left in return. Daddy and Gand-daddy were both founders of this dump, and it’s one of the few things they left me aside from far too much money. Just not enough to buy the place outright.” He took Sonny’s hand and shook it. “It was a pleasure to see you again, Sonny. We must set up another deal soon, don’t you think?”

Once he was gone, Rico sank back in his chair with a long sigh. “Is that cat for real?”

“Every shifty inch of him. And he wasn’t kidding about the club. Grand-daddy was one of the biggest rum-runners in Miami, and his daddy didn’t do too poorly before Castro kicked everyone out of Cuba. Under that fruity exterior beats the heart of an old-money gangster.” He shifted in his own chair so he could see the door Forsythe had thoughtfully closed behind him. “And I don’t know about you, but I thought of that damned New York zombie banker as soon as…”

“He said New York bankers. Yeah, so did I. But that chump didn’t look like he’d seen daylight since before Teddy Roosevelt was police commissioner. But the young bucks…yeah, I can see them comin’ down here for year-round bikini season.”

“You think it’d be anyone you know?”

“Naw. I never worked Major Case unit. And we didn’t get many bankers workin’ armed robberies in the Bronx.” Rico made a show of looking at his seized property Rolex. “We’d better get going, Mr. Burnett. We’ve got a dinner reservation as well.”

Castillo was shutting off his desk lap when Sonny and Rico came in with the money requisition. “It’s the only way we can get into the place without hanging on Forsythe’s heels,” Sonny said as he finished explaining the plan. “And if we’re in, it’s easier to keep an eye on the place and be in position if anything goes down.”

“Security?”

“If they’ve got it, we didn’t see it.” Rico smiled. “We both got in packin’ heat and no one checked either one of us. That could have been because of good ol’ Otis, but I think they wouldn’t have passed up the chance to shake down a brother if they could.”

Castillo nodded. “I’ll approve it. But be sure property records the serial numbers. We don’t want Metro-Dade’s money mixing with anyone else’s. I’ll wait until you’re back and we’ll go over today’s events.”

 

Back in the squad room, Rico turned to Sonny. “Sounds like that unnamed Federal agency’s doing some kind of buy or sting in there.”

“Yeah, you know the drill, Rico. The Feds hang back, let us to the work, and then swoop in and take all the credit.”

“Yeah, or they screw it up and try to blame us.”

“Now you’re learning, partner.” Sonny grinned and gave Rico a quick thumbs-up. “Federal law enforcement 101. Grab from the locals or blame the locals. I just wish I knew what the hell they were doing there.”

Trudy looked up from her typewriter. “I might have something for you, Sonny. If you want to finish this report for me.”

“Come on, darlin’. You know I can’t read. Or type.” He moved closer to her desk. “But I’ll let you feed my alligator if you tell me.”

“That’s more of a threat than a reward, Crockett.” She smiled and spooled the report form out of the battered IBM. “And I was done, anyhow. But when I was downtown I heard a couple of Robbery detectives complaining about being pushed out of an investigation they were running near some yacht club because of a Federal money-laundering probe. And that yacht club just happened to be Pelican’s Nest.”

“Great. So we’re gonna walk in with suitcases full of cash while the Feds are sniffing around for…suitcases full of cash.” Sonny shook his head.

“But that would explain why good ol’ Otis said something about bankers.” Rico chuckled. “Nothing draws in a hungry banker on the rise like suitcases of money.”

“I don’t know, Rico. Something doesn’t feel right about this. Can’t put my finger on it, but…”

“I hear you, partner. We’ll go in ready for anything.” Rico did a few quick dance steps and grinned. “Even if it’s just dancin’.”

“Did those two boys from Robbery happen to mention which agency was doing the pushing?”

“No, but the smart money’s on the FBI or maybe Treasury.” She smiled and brushed past them. “And if you’ll excuse me, I gotta get in costume. We’re taking another run at Jorge Vaca.”

“The Silver Fox or whatever the hell they call that chump?” Rico chuckled. “Good luck. The way I hear it, he’s so Teflon even parking tickets just slide off his Rolls.”

Sonny only heard their banter with part of his mind. The other part was sorting through those damned spiders on the back of his neck and the presence of bankers at Pelican’s Nest. Who the hell would set up a major buy if there was money laundering going on at the same time? It didn’t make sense, even for Miami. Usually the guys with the money tried to stay as far away as they could from the wholesale side of the business.

“Yeah, it don’t make sense to me, either, partner. Bankers and dealers don’t mix, even in Miami.”

“You got that right, pal. Something just doesn’t feel right. But I’ll be damned if I can say what it is.” Sonny sighed and shrugged on his blazer. “Let’s blow this pop stand. Clock’s ticking and we need to get our good faith money so we can get you in the door. Maybe we got lucky and Stan and Larry got some good stuff from the stakeout.”

 

Stan Switek sat at the head of the briefing room table, his yellow and orange Hawaiian print shirt blinding in the glare of the overhead fluorescent tubes. Sonny slumped in his chair, waiting for the overview to begin. It was late, and he wanted to get back to the boat and catch a few hours of sleep before it all started again.

“Larry and I might not have gotten much on the club itself. No one really seems to move in and out of that place.” Switek got to his feet and stuck a photo to the cork board with a thumbtack. “But we did get some beautiful close-ups of a species not native to Miami. The tan Ford with Government plates. Otherwise known as an FBI ‘undercover’ stake out special.”

“How many?” Castillo’s voice was thin, and Sonny knew the man must be exhausted.

“Looked to be three, lieutenant.” Larry Zito took up the story now, his straggly beard making his thin face look a bit thicker than normal. “I’d say six of Hoover’s boys are on the job. We heard ‘em on the radio a bit, too. Lots of that Charlie Alpha Foxtrot stuff, so you couldn’t tell if they were talking about the case or ordering burgers.”

“Their radio discipline is crap.” Stan’s voice had a certainty Sonny hadn’t noticed before. “If anyone else is listening, they know the Feds have a branch office right outside the front gate. Right down to where the cars are parked.”

“Did they notice us?”

“Oh, yeah, Sonny. They sure did. Lots of chatter about you two. Especially Rico. I think they were taking odds about if he was going to end up shark food. They were surprised as hell when you two came out again in one piece.”

Rico snorted. “Those chumps are gonna be a problem, lieutenant. A big one.”

“Deal with it. There’s no way we can get them out of the picture.”

Sonny started to snap something, then paused and rubbed his eyes. Damn…I’m tired. And it’s not Castillo’s fault. “We gotta find a way to make it work. If this deal turns out to be a bust it doesn’t matter, though.”

“Confirm the deal’s going down. Then we can make our decision.” Castillo’s voice was final as he got to his feet. “Everyone go home. Get some sleep. We only have tomorrow to get the intel we need. Make every hour count.”

“Make every hour count, the man says.” Rico was bitching most of the way to the parking lot. “How the hell are we gonna do that with Hoover’s finest sniffing around? Those boys ain’t the most subtle.”

“Yeah, but you heard the man, Rico. We got no choice. You can bet he tried what he could to get them out of the way, and it didn’t work. But that doesn’t change the job. If that deal’s for real, we gotta make sure it doesn’t go down. Bankers and Feds or no.”

“At least we know how many of ‘em there are and where they are. And you know the Feds don’t change a pattern once they settle in.”

“There is that.” Sonny stretched and yawned, feeling his jaws pop. “Don’t know about you, but I’m beat. Lookin’ at a long day tomorrow. At least we got to Property before it closed down. One less thing to mess with.”

“Yeah. Cash is locked in the safe. Five minutes tops and we’re on the street and in play.”

The drive to the marina was quick, Sonny jumping out and grinning as Rico rolled the big convertible out before turning and trudging down to the St. Vitus Dance. Somewhere on the foredeck a chain rattled, and he dug into the cooler and tossed a tuna on the deck. “Eat up, you ticking suitcase,” he muttered as Elvis lumbered into view. “Try not to make a mess this time, ok?”

Below deck he poured himself a drink and tossed the leather shoulder rig holding his Smith & Wesson 645 on one of the padded sideboard seats. “Whole thing’s movin’ too damned fast,” he muttered, feeling the Black Jack leave its familiar warm trail down his throat. “Don’t even know who the players are. Hidalgo’s just a shooter. Are the Alcazars the ones bringing in the product, or is he just moonlighting? Carlo said out of town dealers, and that ain’t Juan.” He rubbed his eyes. “And the original shooter was from south of the border. We need his damned name. Who he’s tied to. But that could take days, and all we got’s tomorrow.”

Morning came too soon, along with a call from the mechanic saying his Ferrari wasn’t ready yet. “I don’t know what you did to her, Sonny.” Tommy’s voice was nasal on the best days, and too early in the morning without coffee it was nails on a chalkboard. “But there’s a leak somewhere. I gotta…”

“Just take care of it.” He paused. “Sorry, Tommy. Long night. Do what you can, ok? Let me know when she’s done.” Hitting the button, he waited for the dial tone and called Rico. “Yeah, it’s still in the shop. No, I ain’t paying cab fare. And no, I’m not calling Bluto and Lee Harvey Oswald.”

“Be cool, mon. I be there soon.”

“Oh, man. Don’t tell me you thawed out Teddy Prentiss? We need Cooper this afternoon, pal. C-O-O-P-E-R, not his Islands cousin.”

“Take a chill pill, Crockett. I gotta drop someone off, first. And we don’t want to beat Switek and Zito there, do we?”

Sonny started to reply, then moved his hand and stared at the buzzing earpiece of the cordless phone. “Everyone’s a comedian,” he muttered, slamming the receiver back on the base stand before heading topside. “Not much past dawn and it’s already looking like a crappy day,” he muttered to Elvis. The gator just shifted and made one of its grunting, snuffling sounds. “Great. No you, too?”

Tubbs pulled up in the Caddy, his Armani suit perfectly pressed and arranged, but Sonny saw the gleam in his eye before he settled into the passenger seat. “Let me guess…you were out making friends with the locals again.”

“A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.” Rico grinned and pushed his sunglasses up on the bridge of his nose. “And let’s just say there was a whole lota doin’ goin’ on last night.”

“Now that image I did not need.” Sonny laughed and slipped on his own sunglasses as Rico guided the big car out of the marina parking lot. “Let’s check in at the office, grab the front money, and maybe catch some breakfast before we hit Pelican’s Nest. Don’t want to show up too early and look all desperate.”

“Solid. I’ll sign out the cash while you check with the lieutenant and see if anything new came in overnight.”

Castillo sat behind his desk, pinching the bridge of his nose with a thumb and index finger. Sonny thought he might have been sitting there all night, but it was impossible to tell for sure. “Your plan?”

“We’re gonna drop the front money before noon, lieutenant, and then make sure Tubbs is available. That fruit Forsythe sounded like he might be up for a small deal, and if there’s anything going down in the club he’s gonna know the players and the game. We’ll play it cool, though. There’s a guy named Beaumont who’s just shy of the sheet-wearing crowd, and he’s on the club board so he could cause problems if he wanted to.” He paused. “Did anything come in on the name of the original shooter?”

“Yes. Corrections finally got back to me.” Castillo looked down at a sheet of paper on his otherwise clear desk. “The man’s name is Jimenez, and he’s connected to a gang active in northern Mexico. A big gang. We might get more out of DEA, but there’s no time.”

“The kind of gang the Alcazars would reach out to?”

“Yes.”

“But that doesn’t explain why they’d want an Alcazar shooter involved in security.”

“Maybe they don’t have a choice.” Castillo’s voice was thin, almost lost in the laboring HVAC system. “It takes time to get people in, and they may not have time before the deal goes down. And it could be a sign of good faith on their part. That they trust the Alcazar organization.”

“Yeah. You’re right. And maybe Juan’s connected to them in some other way we don’t know about. Family or something. Hell, I don’t know. Just want to get all the players on the scorecard.”

“We need a time. We know the place. I can’t put backup in position until we know when the deal’s going down.”

“I know, lieutenant. I’ll put the screws in ol’ Otis a bit and see what pops out. And there’s always a chance some of those damned bankers are tied in somehow.”

“Keep me in the loop.” Castillo dismissed him with a slight nod.

They were back in the parking lot before Sonny spoke again. “Damn. Castillo looks tired. I mean really tired. I think he slept in his office again.”

Rico nodded, holding a thin leather briefcase in his left hand. “You think it’s this case?”

“That’s the thing, Rico. I don’t know. He did say the original shooter was a guy named Jimenez, and he had ties to some outfit in Mexico.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. But I do know I’m hungry. Let’s go get some breakfast.” As they crossed the lot, he felt the spiders dancing on the back of his neck again. Something’s not right. Just can’t put my damned finger on it.

If Rico noticed Sonny’s preoccupation, he didn’t let on. With one hand on the wheel and his arm resting on the door, Rico was the perfect picture of a rich man out for a drive. “Man, I gotta say I dig this part of the job. Not too hot, not too much traffic, a solid ride…”

“Yeah, but it can all turn in a heartbeat.” Sonny looked in the side mirror and froze. “Like it just did. See that black Beemer behind us?”

Rico shifted like he was working a kink out of his neck. “Three cars back? Yeah. I got it.”

“It’s been on us since not long after we left OCB. Always three cars back. Can’t see the driver with that tint, but they know their stuff.”

“Try for the plate, but ten to one it’s a rental.”

“Yeah. And under a fake name.”

“You think Otis stuck someone on us?”

Sonny scribbled the plate number in his small notebook, letting the question roll around in his mind. “Naw, I don’t think so. That’s not Otis’ style. If he was worried he’d either ask us or just drop out of sight. That and he doesn’t like involving outsiders in his business.” He glanced at the mirror again. “It could be unrelated to this deal. Hell, between the two of us we must have enough enemies to fill the Dolphins’ stadium.”

“Yeah. Maybe you’re right. I just don’t like growing a tail this close to game time.”

“Neither do I, Rico. Neither do I.”

“Thing is, partner, I still want breakfast.”

“Well then head for Rita’s. It’s the kind of place a homesick New Yorker would go, and it might just smoke out our buddies back there.”

“Rita’s it is. And I gotta say I want a look at these chumps.”

Rita’s was an upscale diner with just enough pastel to belong in Miami but the required chrome to make it look like a relic from the big city. Sonny and Rico settled into a booth along the wide bay windows lining the front of the place. They both saw the black BMW crawl past, but neither could see if it stopped or not.

“Damned tint. There oughta be a law.”

“I think there is, partner.” Sonny smiled up at the waitress who appeared with coffee cups and a steaming pot in her other hand. “Bacon and scrambled eggs for me, darlin’. With toast.”

Rico grimaced. “You’d never guess you played college ball. I’ll take the fruit cup, a toasted bagel, and yoghurt.”

“And you’d never guess you survived past ten on that diet.” Sonny sipped coffee without tasting it, his eyes still on the big windows. “No sign of that damned Beemer.”

“That’s because I parked around the block, Sonny. And don’t bother running the plate. It’s a rental. Mind if I join you boys?”

The voice was female, and familiar. But not local. Sonny started to turn, his hand easing close to the big 456 just in case. Then the bells went off in his head. The blonde hair was still cut boy-short, and her blue eyes burned through his soul. “It’s a long way from the Big Apple, Margaret. And I don’t think you’re here to work on your tan.”

“No. And it’s too hot here.” She slipped into the booth next to Sonny, sending a wink Rico’s way. “I don’t know how you stand it in those suits.”

“Fashion ain’t got no time for sweating. A man’s gotta look his best.” Rico grinned, but Sonny knew him well enough to hear the annoyance in his voice. “And I don’t believe you came all the way down here to admire my suit. Or to get with my partner again. So let’s get down to it. Why are you here?”

“And there’s no way that zombie you work for sent you to settle things. That’d be too close to getting his hands dirty, and that just isn’t his style.” Sonny watched her eyes, waiting to see if she started looking for backup. But she was focused on him. Totally on him. And the spiders started dancing on the back of his neck again.

“I’m not here about either of you. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t happy to see you again, Sonny.” She reached out, her slender fingers touching the back of his hand. “But I am here on business.”

“Still in the same game?”

“Information? Yes. Still the same game. But with different players. Always different players.”

“But the same boss man.” Rico snorted. “You don’t strike me as a cat who changes her spots.”

“It’s not always a choice, Rico.”

“So who are the players this time, Margaret? And why reach out to us?”

“I saw you two at that yacht club with the stupid name. If we’re going to be working the same field I figured it was better if we met here instead of there.”

“And how did you know where ‘here’ was?”

She smiled. “Rico, the only car more recognizable than yours is the Ferrari Sonny uses. My boss…”

“Is connected.” Sonny finished the line. “Yeah, we know. But that doesn’t explain why you’re down here and why we’re playing the same field. I thought your boss stayed clear of the product.”

“Money, Sonny. That’s his product and it’s why I’m here.” She moved closer, and he could feel the warmth of her body though his linen slacks. “You know all those bankers at that club? One of them is an up and coming guy on the payroll. But there are rumors about him. So…”

“You’re here to see if the rumors are true.” Sonny paused when the waitress appeared with their food. “And you might as well order since you’re here.”

“Just coffee, thanks.” When the waitress left, Margaret smiled. “So nice of you to offer to buy a girl breakfast.”

“Cut to the chase. What are these rumors?” Rico gave her a sharp look, narrowing his eyes. “It must be something good for the old man to spring for travel money.”

“That he’s greedy. And that he takes too personal an interest in deals.” She shook her head. “Maybe he samples the product. I don’t know. I just know they…”

“Want information. Yeah, I heard that song before. Didn’t like it then, don’t like it now.” Sonny turned so he could look her in the eye. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like you, but I don’t like what you do, lady. It gets messy. And we’ve got a job to do.”

“So do I, Sonny. And my boss is less understanding than yours.” He could see the fear back in her eyes behind the bluster in her voice. “I want to work something out so we can both do our jobs and not get in each others’ way. Really. That’s all.”

“We could arrest her.” Rico’s voice was conversational, but Sonny knew he was serious. “Run her in on some charge or another and sit on her until we’re done.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think the old zombie would like that too much.”

“I’m only down here about the money. Checking up on his guy. Nothing else. I swear.”

“You could swear on a stack of bibles all day, lady. Don’t know that I’d believe a word of it.” Rico gave her one of his nasty smiles. “Simple fact is this is our turf and you’re trespassing.”

Sonny watched them trading verbal blows. Hell, half the reason Rico’s lighting her up is she’s from New York City. Place holds too many bad memories for him. He’s right, but we might be able to use her. “Look, this ain’t gonna solve a thing. And we’re on a clock. I gotta go with Rico, Margaret. I don’t believe for a second you’re only down here to watch some wide-eyed junior partner on his first trip to the beach. But I also don’t care. What I do care about is our operation, and if you so much as sneeze in its direction, I’ll run you in and bury you in some swap lockup until next spring.”

She looked from one man to the other. “That’s fair enough, I guess. Same thing I’d do if I was in your position. But you should know something else. The Feds are sniffing around that old boy dump, too. Chasing the money, just like me.”

“At least they’re easy to spot. Tan Fords, suits off the Sears markdown rack.” Rico smoothed out the front of his suit coat. “They ain’t got no threads to match mine.”

“No, but they’ve got an agent in charge who wants to make a name for himself. Mr. Johnson gave me some background on him before I flew out. If anyone’s gonna get in your way it’s him, not me.”

Sonny looked over her head at Rico and winked. “And I bet you’re just dyin’ to share what you know with us.”

“Not for free, Sonny.” She shrugged. “Let me do my job. I promise I’ll keep out of your way.”

 

After she left, Rico shot Sonny a glare. “I can’t believe you let her talk us into letting her do her job.”

“Only way we could find out about Special Agent Maxwell Reno, Rico. She wasn’t gonna give that up because of your good looks. Mine, either. And you know the lieutenant wasn’t gonna tell us. If he even knows.”

“Yeah…I know. But it doesn’t mean I have to like it. She steal your gun this time, too?”

“No, Rico. I kept my hand on it.” Sonny chuckled, but the reminder still stung. He’d misread Margaret once, and he wasn’t going to make that mistake again. “We’ll get Switek and Zito to keep an eye on her. If she’s got an in into the club it’s through that corpse Johnson, and you can bet Forsythe doesn’t like it one bit. ‘Damned Yankee money’ and all that.”

“But he said…”

“Yeah. He doesn’t buy into that North-South stuff. But he also doesn’t like outsiders meddling in what he considers his affairs. And you can bet he considers Pelican’s Nest his affair.” Finishing his coffee, Sonny tapped a Lucky Strike out of the pack and lit it with his battered lighter. “And now we gotta figure out how we’re gonna handle this Agent Reno.”

“At least the chump ain’t local. Typical Feds. Send some hotshot down who doesn’t know the players.”

“Sounds like someone I know.” Sonny grinned.

“Yeah, but that worked out in the end.” Rico chuckled. “We just gotta make sure this doesn’t for our wonder-Fed. His guys might as well put up signs and sell tickets they’re so damned obvious.”

“Maybe that’s part of the point, Rico.” Sonny stared at the glowing end of his cigarette for a moment. “We know this Johnson has a long reach, right? Maybe he reached out and had the FBI send a bull down to watch the china shop. Scare his boys into behaving themselves.”

“Ok. Say I bite on that. Then why send Margaret?”

“Because he’s careful and doesn’t bet on just one horse. Or maybe she’s got another assignment.”

“I don’t see her as a shooter.”

“I don’t either, Rico. But you never know. Hell…he’s got some kind of hold on her. Maybe it’s a hard enough one he can push her that far. Or maybe she’s a spotter for someone else.” Sonny sighed. “Hell…I don’t know. I just know we need to get over to Pelican’s Nest and get your membership fee put down. Our clock’s ticking.”

 

It was cool in the paneled entryway of Pelican’s Nest, and the slender blonde at the cloakroom desk smiled when they came through the heavy doors. “Mr. Forsythe told me to expect you! Mr. Cooper, if you’ll just step over here we’ll take care of the formalities. Mr. Burnett, I believe Mr. Forsythe is waiting for you at the bar in the main lounge.”

Nodding, Sonny raised his hand. “I’ll wait until Mr. Cooper’s done, thanks.”

“He’s a bit protective.” Rico grinned. “Course I pay him to be.”

The blonde smiled, showing polished teeth. “Of course. Pablo, let Mr. Forsythe know Mr. Burnett will be along, would you? Now, let’s see to that membership.”

Ten minutes later Rico was in possession of a gold card and the briefcase containing ten thousand dollars had disappeared into a small safe behind the counter. Reappearing almost on command, Pablo held the paneled door and waved them through. “Meester Forsythe is at the bar, gentlemen. Ju cannot miss him.”

Rico leaned close. “I didn’t know Izzy had relatives working here.”

“He probably doesn’t know, either.” Sonny grinned. “Come on, Mr. Cooper. Let’s go pay our respects.”

As they came around the corner of the long oak bar, they could see Forsythe’s slim figure next to a thick-set man about a head shorter. They were talking, and from the way Forsythe was gesturing with his hand Sonny guessed it wasn’t a friendly discussion about the weather. “That’s gotta be Beaumont,” he whispered as they got closer.

“Yeah. He must have found out about the darkie in the club room.”

“Easy, partner. Let Burnett do his job.”

Forsythe turned. “Mr. Burnett! Mr. Cooper! Welcome, gentlemen. You’ll have to excuse this lout, Beaumont, don’t you have things to do? Crosses to burn?”

“That ain’t been funny the last twenty times you said it, Otis.” Beaumont had low brows and thick dark hair that matched his eyes. “And as club board chairman, I can say we don’t welcome no…”

Sonny stepped closer, letting his face freeze into his Burnett look. “Hard to talk without teeth, pal. I consider Mr. Forsythe here a friend, and Mr. Cooper is a business associate.”

“And just who the hell…”

Sonny let his blazer hang open just a hair. “I’m someone you don’t want to mess with.”

Rico cleared his throat. “And I’m a member of your little club.” He held up the gold card. “Paid up and everything.”

Forsythe chuckled. “Now if you’re done making an ass of yourself, Beaumont, why don’t you just scurry off somewhere? I have business to discuss with these fine gentlemen.”

Once Beaumont was gone, Sonny let out a long breath. “You weren’t kidding about him, Otis.”

“No. Sadly I was not. If anything I believe I might have undersold his charms. It’s bad enough he wants to make nice with those bankers…”

“Yankees and all that?’ Rico leaned against the bar with a smile, but Sonny could still read the tension in his posture.

“No, Rico. Nothing like that. But they are fools, and one doesn’t suffer fools unless one has no choice.” He raised a slender finger, catching the bartender’s eye. “Now let’s procure some drinks and adjourn to more comfortable surroundings.”

They went to the same club room they’d been in the day before, and Sonny guessed it must be Forsythe’s favorite. The slender man sprawled in one of the leather club chairs with a sigh and took a long drink from his glass of bourbon. “I do detest that man. I must do something about him one day soon.”

Rico nodded, and Sonny could see the gleam in his partner’s eyes. “I might be able to help you with that, Otis. Once my business is done, of course.”

“Of course. Business before pleasure. Even if it is someone else’s pleasure.” Forsythe grinned and brushed at a stray strand of hair. “If I may be so bold, I suspect you have the resources to deal with an insect like Beaumont without breaking a proverbial sweat.”

“You could say that.”

Sonny cleared his throat. “But first we gotta get that rowboat of yours down here, Cooper.”

“The man has a point.” Rico looked out the window toward the marina. “Do you have a free spot that can accommodate a 90 foot motor yacht? Maybe something bigger from time to time. My friends do like to entertain, and some of them have bigger boats.”

Forsythe nodded, the stray hair falling into his eyes again with the movement. “Oh my, but of course we do. Well…we will. I do believe the spot you’d need is booked through tomorrow.”

“Damn. I was hoping to bring the Mermaid in tomorrow. She’s offshore now…taking a few meetings.”

“Oh I do understand. And after tomorrow you shall have Berth Two.”

Sonny let his own bourbon burn a path down his throat before speaking. “Well, Otis, that could be a problem. We’re on a bit of a tight schedule.”

Rico nodded. “Maybe I could persuade whoever has the berth reserved to change their plans?”

“I don’t think so. You are charming and all, Rico, and Sonny can certainly be determined, but these gentlemen - and I use the term loosely - are rather determined themselves.”

“If it’s those bankers…”

“Not at all, Rico. One or two of them may have an interest, but it’s purely speculative. But the others…”

“Let me guess.” Sonny leaned forward. “Heavy accents. Dark features. Lotsa firepower.”

“Exactly, Sonny. Exactly. I can’t even begin to imagine how much they must have paid Beaumont to let them tie up here. But such is life.”

“Tomorrow, you say.” Rico’s forehead wrinkled. “I might be able to make that work. Out of consideration for you, of course. But I’ll have to make some calls.”

“I do apologize. It’s certainly not the hospitality for which Pelican’s Nest is known.” Forsythe looked at his Rolex. “But there may be a compromise in the offing. I’ll need to check the book, but I do believe they are to be done early in the morning. No later than ten in any case. That would give you the afternoon.” He got to his feet. “You boys stay here. I’ll go check.”

 

Two hours later they were walking back down the wide driveway to the club. “I can’t believe he just gave that up.”

Sonny shook his head. “Otis has a reason, Rico. He’s always got a reason. I figure he thinks we’re looking to cut in on the deal and guesses we can smack both the runners and good ol’ Beaumont at the same time. Two birds, one stone.”

“Yeah, but there’s also those damned bankers. And your pal Margaret. You caught what he said about them, right?”

“Yeah. One’s in the deal somehow. And I’ll bet that’s what brought Margaret down here.” Sonny pushed his sunglasses back up on his nose as Rico started the Caddy. “Damned knockoffs don’t fit right.”

“We gonna call in Switek and Zito?”

“Naw. Leave ‘em in place. They might pick up some chatter from Reno and his cowboys. I still can’t shake the feeling they’re gonna be uninvited guests at our little dance.” Hell, Margaret might be, too.

Castillo didn’t look up from the papers on his desk as Sonny gave their report. “You trust Forsythe?”

“Trust him, lieutenant? No. But he’s got no reason to lie to us.”

Rico nodded. “Man like him doesn’t do anything without a reason. I agree with Crockett. He’s hoping we can take care of two of his problems for him.”

“And the woman?”

“Haven’t seen her since this morning.” Sonny looked down at his hands. “To be honest, lieutenant, I’ve got a bad feeling about her. She gave us information about the FBI goofball running their show. A real cowboy. But why would she do that? She’s getting nothing from us.”

“Cover. Whatever we’re doing will give her cover.” Castillo looked up, his eyes dark. “I don’t like her being here, but that’s out of our control. So are the bankers and the FBI. If the deal’s going down in the morning, get your plan together. Pelican’s Nest is hard to approach from any angle but the water, and it’s too short notice to bring in the Coast Guard.”

“Copy that, lieutenant.” Sonny nodded. “Come on, Rico. We got work to do. We’ll call Switek and Zito in close to four. They’ll need to be involved in the planning, too.”

“I can give you Dibble and Gorman. Calabrese and Joplin are both working another case. Maybe SWAT.”

“I don’t know that we’ll need ‘em, lieutenant. So long as the FBI stays out of the way, at least.”

 

It was late afternoon by the time Switek and Zito parked the Bug Van in its usual spot and made their way to the briefing room. Sonny and Rico were already there, Sonny standing by the big white board and Rico sitting near the head of the table scribbling away on a yellow legal pad. Sonny looked up and grinned. “If you girls are done working on your tans, we can get this show on the road.”

“I can’t help it if your mom prefers a man with a tan, Sonny.” Stan’s voice was light, but Sonny caught a flash of something else in his eyes. Then it was gone.

“Well, we all have our crosses to bear.” He turned back to the board, finishing a sketch map of the marina with a black dry erase marker. “You two turn up any juicy gossip?”

“If you mean ‘were the Feebs still clogging the airways’ the answer is yes. If you mean ‘did we hear anything useful from the club’ the answer’s no.” Larry Zito flopped in one of the gray metal chairs and yawned. “We did see a couple of those New York bankers come and go, though. BMWs all the way, baby.”

“Let me guess…rentals?”

“Score one for the good guys, Tubbs. Rentals all the way.” Stan grinned as he sat down. “Fresh from the Hertz out at the airport. Tinted windows and the works.”

“Sounds like someone else we know.” Rico shot a quick look Crockett’s way. “You didn’t happen to see a blonde with one of those page boy cuts, did you?”

“We sure as hell did. She did a couple of passes through the area and then glued her Beemer onto one of the bankers’ rides. Which one was it, Lar? The one with the goofy nose or the workout king?”

“Workout king. Guy spends more on his hair in a week than Stan does on groceries in a month.” Larry laughed, ducking as Stan tossed a wadded up piece of paper in his general direction. “Guy looks like he spends more time in front of a mirror than Gina and Trudy combined when they’re getting ready to hit the streets.”

“This chump have a name?”

Stan flipped through a small notebook. “Car’s rented to one Eddie Urloski. At least that’s what he called himself when he rented the car. Gotta be his real name, though. Even Elvis wouldn’t make up a name that goofy when he was making hotel reservations.”

“You run him?” Sonny felt the spiders again.

“Yeah. Called it in as soon as we got the name. He’s a junior partner with some bank in New York. Second Federated Savings or some crap.” Stan snorted. “Sounded like Izzy made up the name. Anyhow, it doesn’t come back as the kind of place you deposit your paycheck.”

“Broker bank.” Rico smiled. “Kind of place rich dudes wash their slightly grimy cash through. They’re just this side of legal. Lots of ‘em hanging onto the edges of Madison Avenue.”

Larry nodded. “Something like that. This guy’s part of that group that came down. Bunch of wanna-be financial wiz kids. But your girl was interested as hell in old Eddie. No question.”

“Any sign they’re connected to our deal?”

“Not that we could see. But we don’t have wires on the place or anything like that. Just mics and cameras from a distance.”

Sonny nodded. “You spot this Eddie hanging with anyone in particular? Someone who doesn’t fit in at Pelican’s Nest?”

“We can look back through the pictures as soon as the lab’s done with ‘em, but I don’t remember anything.” Stan shrugged. “Of course we weren’t watching him specifically.”

“No. None of us were.” Sonny shrugged to hide his disappointment. Can’t blame Stan if I’m being honest. Hell, we didn’t know squat about the guy until just now. “I think he’s a bag man if he’s anything. An investor who wants the charge of being in on the buy.”

Larry nodded. “Sounds about right. He looked like that kinda guy.”

Rico cleared his throat. “Forsythe said the berth was tied up until ten. You two were there early. What kind of deliveries come in and out of that redneck dump in the morning?”

“Food and booze.” Stan’s voice was firm. “Not much else. They get the food run about five, and the booze follows about an hour later.”

Sonny looked at his partner. “What are you thinking?”

“If they wanna get in without drawing attention, they gotta come in like normal traffic. And if this is a big enough buy to need more guns, it’s gonna be big enough to require more than a duffle bag and a hot Mercedes to move.”

“And no one looks at a delivery crew.” Sonny nodded, thoughts chasing themselves through his head as he weighed options. “Most of the crews are gonna be Latin, so no one’s gonna look twice at them. Or notice if most of ‘em aren’t speaking English.”

“Ju got it, meng.” Rico grinned. Then he turned back to Stan and Larry. “Which delivery was bigger? And yeah, I know you only got a day’s worth of comparison.”

“Booze. Easily the booze. Between the cases of liquor and beer kegs you could hide an army in the truck. It also goes further inside the place. Food deliveries are closer to the kitchen, and you can see the dock from the street. We lost sight of the booze truck almost as soon as it pulled in.”

“Solid.” Rico made some more notes on his pad. “What kinda security does that dump have?”

“Aside from the big goofballs with the muscles? Not much.” Larry leaned back in his chair. “No cameras, no alarms on that brick fence, not much of anything. The building probably does, but not the part you want to get through.”

“And you’re sure?”

“As sure as I can be without getting inside the place, Sonny. You two were in there. What did you see?”

“Not much. They did have some stuff inside, but yeah…not much outside at all. Maybe some of those motion-sensitive lights in close to the main building.” Sonny frowned, cursing himself. I didn’t really look that hard. Doubt if Tubbs did, either.

Stan leaned forward. “So what’s the plan?”

“Get the lieutenant in here and we’ll run through it.” Sonny capped the marker and set it on the podium. It wasn’t much, but given the time they had it would have to do.

Castillo listened in silence as they walked through the plan. “And that’s what we’ve got, lieutenant,” Sonny finished, stepping back from the board. “I think we can pull it off without bringing in SWAT. At least that way we won’t tip off the FBI.”

Castillo looked up, shifting his gaze from Sonny to Rico and back again. The hum of the HVAC system seemed unnaturally loud. When he spoke it wasn’t much above a whisper. “You believe this will work?”

“I do. We have the element of surprise on our side. Forsythe might suspect we’re up to something, but he’s not gonna care so long as it pushes Beaumont out of power. If there’s anyone in that place who might be in on the deal, it’s Beaumont. But we didn’t get a good read on him.”

“I don’t like it. Too many loose ends.”

“The thing is, lieutenant, we’re on someone else’s clock.” Rico looked up from his notes. “It’s not us setting the tempo on this. I ain’t crazy about it, either, but we either go with what we have or let twenty or more keys loose on the streets.”

“I understand the stakes, detective.”

“I know, lieutenant. I didn’t mean anything else by that. Just sayin’ we don’t run the clock.”

“Yeah…and it’s a fourth down and passing situation.” Sonny tried to take back control of the briefing. An annoyed Rico butting heads with a stubborn Castillo did no one any favors. “With Switek and Zito taking the lead on the bust, we keep our covers intact. The only drawback…”

“You need Dibble and Gorman.”

“Something like that. But they gotta know they’re following Stan and Larry’s lead.”

“They will.” Castillo’s flat tone left no doubt. “And the banker?”

“If Urlowski shows we’ll wrap him up, too. I’d bet he’s connected to the deal in some way, but we don’t know if it’s on the money end or just an interested bystander. Word is he’s a man trying to make a name for himself.”

Castillo nodded, looking down at his hands. After a time he spoke again. “I’ll see they’re briefed and ready for Switek and Zito. I don’t want the Alcazar organization making any outside connections. That has priority. Was there any sign of the woman?”

Switek spoke up. “We saw her head out after Eddie, lieutenant. The banker, I mean. The way she was on his ass, wherever he goes, she’s gonna be close behind.”

“Arrest her if she interferes. This isn’t New York City.”

 

It was just after ten when Sonny finally climbed out of the Caddy. “Thanks for the lift, Rico. See you in the morning.”

“Only if you got the coffee, partner.” Rico laughed and put the big car in gear. “And feed that walking suitcase. I don’t want him eyeballing me like a breakfast delivery in the morning.”

Waving, Sonny turned and headed for the gangplank. The St. Vitus Dance was a shadow among other shadows in the marina, bobbling slightly with the currents. It was good to be back, and he was looking forward to a drink. Briefing Castillo had been harder than usual, and the man’s objections to his plan still had him off-balance.

“Your partner’s right, Sonny. You need to feed this thing more.”

He’d just stepped on deck when the voice stopped him cold. He started reaching for the big Smith & Wesson when he saw the short blonde hair in the light from the marina parking lot and the throaty voice registered in his brain. “Major uncool, lady. You damned near got shot.”

“You wouldn’t shoot me, Sonny.” Margaret stepped fully out of the shadows by the wheel, and he imagined he could see her blue eyes glowing bright in the gloom. “We’re too much alike.”

“We’re nothing alike.”

“Oh, but we are. I knew that the first time we met. We both like danger, Sonny.” She reached out and grabbed a handful of hair, pulling him so close he could feel her breath on his cheek. “We both get off on it.” Then she kissed him. Hard. Pulling him against her. He could feel her hands sliding his blazer off his shoulders, tugging his Henley over his head. “I missed you.” It was a whisper and a growl in his earn. “Let’s get below.”

Later, she rolled off him with a satisfied sound and kissed his shoulder. “I really missed that, too.”

In spite of himself, Sonny nodded. “Yeah. I guess you did at that.”

“And so did you. You might not say it with words, but you said it with something else.”

“Why are you here, Margaret? Really. You didn’t just come here for that.”

“Maybe I did.” She kissed him again, her teeth just touching his skin before she pulled away. “New York is so dull without you.”

He nodded in the darkness before he caught himself. Much as he didn’t want to admit it, there was something about her. Something primal he couldn’t put his finger on. “I’m sure you found ways to keep busy, darlin’. You don’t strike me as the type to sit around the apartment watching game shows.”

“No. Maybe not.” She ran a finger along his chest. “But I know there’s something happening at that club tomorrow, and after that my work will be over. And I’ll have to go back to New York. So I wanted a taste.” She shifted in the berth, her body moving against his. “Maybe more than one.”

Eventually they fell asleep, and when the buzzing alarm clock woke Sonny up she was gone.

 

“And she just dropped in? Just like that?” Rico handed Sonny a paper cup of diner coffee, a thin smile on his face.

“Well…not just like that. She fed Elvis first.” Sonny sipped the coffee, glad the fake Ray-Bans worked against the bright morning sun. There wasn’t much of it peeking over the water, but it was enough. “I don’t know what her game is, Tubbs. And that bothers the hell out of me.”

“Better get your head in the game, partner. We got about half an hour to get into position before things start jumping at Pelican’s Nest.”

“What about the other two clowns?”

“Dibble and Gorman weren’t happy campers, especially when they found out Switek and Zito were callin’ the shots. They’ll be in uniform like we planned, so it don’t matter if they look big and dumb.” Rico looked both ways and then rolled the Caddy out of the marina parking lot and into the early morning traffic.

“It ain’t pretty, but it’s the best we could do in the time we have.” Sonny let out a sigh. “I just hope we beat the Feebs to work.”

“No problem there. Stan said the tan Fords don’t park until after ten. With any luck…”

“We’ll be rolling out with the goons and the party favors well before then,” Sonny said, finishing the thought along with his coffee. It was a good plan, all things considered. Still…the damend spiders were dancing on the back of his neck again. I wish I knew where the hell she was right now.

Morning shadows fell long and dark across the rolling grass around Pelican’s Nest. The original landscape had been planned to hide the club from prying outside eyes, but the trees and shrubs had an unintended bonus: they made the club easy to sneak up on.

Sonny and Rico went over the wall on the far side from the long driveway and angled along the hedges toward the sheltered marina. Sonny ran on light feet, radio in one hand and his Smith & Wesson in the other. Rico was close behind, his snub nose at the ready. From the time spent looking out the club room window, Sonny knew the ground rose away from the main grounds before sliding back down toward the sheltered anchorage. A low line of rose bushes gave cover at the top, and from there he was sure they could look right down on any deal. This time out they were the spotters, not the shooters.

The grass was slick and dotted with dew, making him glad he’d left his blazer in the car and pulled on a dark windbreaker. Dropping down, he crawled to the crest of the rise and keyed the radio. “In position,” he whispered.

“So are we.” Stan’s voice was drawn out by the radio. “Waiting on your go.”

“Roger that. Stand by.” Turning the radio down, Sonny looked back and waved Rico forward. “You got the glasses? I know we’re close, but…”

“All the better to see them with.” Rico chuckled as he handed the binoculars to Sonny. “And I’m damned glad I left the Armani at home. Dry cleaning from this…”

“Yeah, yeah. Two weeks’ take home. You say that every time, Rico.” Grinning, he raised the glasses. “And what do we have here? A big boat. Not a ninety footer, but decent size.” He adjusted the focus. “And the shooters. I can see three, maybe four so far.” He handed the glasses back to Rico.

“And no sign of the Alcazar people.” Rico shifted, scanning right and left. “But we won’t see them until the booze truck pulls in. Looks like the boat’s flying a Panamanian flag. And our boy Juan just came up from belowdecks. They musta sent him to coordinate things first. You were right about it being a sign of good faith.”

“Panamanian colors? But the original shooter…”

“You need to keep up, Sonny. Every chump and his cousin flags ships in Panama theses days. You know…ask no questions…”

“…And you’ll hear no lies. Yeah, Rico, I know. I don’t suppose we’re getting lucky and they’re stacking plastic-wrapped kilos on deck?”

“Naw. These boys know their business. Shooters are keeping their hardware under wraps, but I’d guess UZIs from the size of their jackets.” Rico shifted again, then froze. “You need to see this,” he whispered, handing the glasses over.

Sonny raised them to his eyes. “Well, well. That must be Eddie Urlowski. Build like a fullback and dressing like a pimp. You’d never think the bozo was a banker. And on their boat, no less. Guess he does like to follow his money.”

“You can bet the old man ain’t gonna be too happy to hear about that. Speaking of which, you spotted any blondes down there?”

“Naw. She’s too careful to be seen if she is down there.

The radio crackled and Larry Zito’s voice echoed. “The bar is open.”

“Roger that.” Sonny unkeyed the radio and looked over at Rico. “Showtime.”

The truck was a long delivery van painted dark blue with ‘Flamingo Wine and Spirits’ in pink on both sides. It rolled up the drive and turned into the marina, and Sonny could see two men in the cab. And God knows how many they got in back. The driver turned the truck before they got to the spot and backed close to the boat. “Guy knows his stuff. Easier to load without being seen, and in position to make a break for it if they need to.”

“When do we send them in?”

“As soon as the money and the party favors are in the same place.”

“We got a problem. Tan Fords just pulled in.”

“You sure, Switek?”

“Yeah. Cheap suits and the works.” There was a pause. “They got shotguns and papers, Sonny. Looks like a raid.”

As if on cue a bullhorn crackled to life somewhere on the long driveway. “This is the FBI! Stop what you’re doing and come out with your hands up!”

“No!” The strangled shout slipped past Sonny’s lips at almost the exact moment the powerful engines on the boat thundered to life. A short scream and a pop came from the dock, and he could just see a man tumbling down the falling gangplank as the boat moved away from its berth at what had to be full speed reverse.

“Those cheap suit chumps just screwed up our bust!” Rico slammed his fist into the wet grass, the words hissing through clenched teeth.

“Don’t I know it!” Sonny keyed the radio. “Stand down, Switek. Our marching dust just headed out to sea at flank speed.”

“Two to one odds say it’ll be making the fish high inside half an hour.” Stan paused. “Should we head back?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry…I’ll explain it to Castillo.”

“Ok...wait! Lar, grab her!” There was a pause. “Sonny, we just scooped up a blonde lady down by the gate. Short hair, blue eyes. You want…”

“Take her in.” Sonny’s voice was flat. “I’ve got some questions for her.”

 

The air conditioner in Interrogation B had a bearing that was burning out, and the fans gave off an intermittent high-pitched buzz. Sonny gave Margaret a few minutes alone with the noise before heading in. “Sonny…I…”

“What the hell was that, lady?” He didn’t look at her as he sat down, not quite trusting his eyes. “You said you wouldn’t screw up our bust.”

“But he was there, Sonny. The whole reason I was sent down here. I couldn’t…”

“And how did you know he’d be there? And how long did it take you to call that special agent? Reno, I think you said his name was.”

“It’s not like that…”

“The hell it isn’t. You let a major bust float right away from that damned marina so you could put a scare up the shorts of some two-bit banker.”

“He’s not…I mean…it’s…”

“Yeah, yeah. ‘It’s not like that.’ I heard that song before, lady. And it gets damned old.”

“I agree.” Sonny hadn’t heard Castillo open the door. But then again Castillo had a way of just appearing. “I understand your lawyer’s on his way.”

“That’s right. I’ll be out of here within the hour. And I’d like to see…”

“What you’d like and what will happen are two very different things.” There was a bite in Castillo’s voice that made Sonny flinch inside. “How did you know about the raid?”

“So I’ve got a police scanner. That’s not against the law.” She was trying to be tough, but Sonny could hear a touch of fear in her voice. Castillo must be using the look.

“No, lady. It’s not. But interfering in a police investigation is.”

“The FBI got what they wanted.”

“And conveniently so did you. And your zombie boss.”

“Sonny…I…”

“This goes beyond Crockett.” Castillo took control again, and Sonny eased back in his chair. He knew his role in the interrogation was over. “I know what you did in New York City. What your employer expects you to do.”

“I gather information.”

“You know those dealers shot Urlowski in the knee before they fled? He’ll be fortunate if he walks again. That was your doing.”

“No. I was…”

“It doesn’t matter where you were. Your actions led to that shooting. You might as well have pulled the trigger yourself.”

Sonny looked from Castillo to Margaret and back again. He’d seen her look tough. Vulnerable. And a few faces he’d remember as pleasant dreams for some time. But he’d never seen her scared. Until now. “Look. My boss…”

“Leave Miami. Now. And don’t ever come back. If you do, you will be arrested, prosecuted, and put away for as long as I can manage.”

“I’ll come back if he sends me. My boss knows people…”

Castillo rested his hands on the table and leaned toward her. Sonny caught a glimpse of his eyes and forced himself to remain expressionless. “So do I. And he doesn’t want to meet them.” Turning, he opened the door. “Sergeant, transport this woman to the airport and make sure she gets on the next flight back to New York City. Crockett. My office.”

Rico was waiting when Sonny walked into Castillo’s office. “Did he…”

“He sent her packing. Told her never to come back.” Sonny sank into the metal frame chair, memories of the look on Castillo’s face still bouncing around in his head.

“How did this happen?” Castillo sat down behind his desk, his face and eyes without expression.

“Switek said she had a scanner in her possession when they arrested her, lieutenant.” Rico spoke quickly. “So her story about hearing radio traffic could be true.”

“She was waiting for me at the boat last night, lieutenant. Don’t ask me how she knew about it, but she did. I didn’t say a word about the case, though.”

“You wouldn’t need to. She was keeping tabs on you. And I suspect her employer found out about the boat. He’s well-connected.”

“So now what? Can the Coast Guard…”

“They already found the boat. Floating ten miles offshore. Empty.”

“And the FBI’s happy as a kid in a candy store. They got their money and a banker or two to go with it.” Rico shook his head. “Didn’t bother holding any of the Alcazars, though. That Special Agent Reno was too busy posing for pictures with a suitcase of money and that damned fool Urlowski and his bloody leg.”

“So we strike out in a fourth down and passing situation.” Sonny shook his head, anger and a touch of sadness competing in his chest.

“The Alcazars will keep trying.” Castillo raised his eyes. “There is something, though. One of the men the FBI took in was named Beaumont. He’s being charged with at least four felony counts.”

Sonny chuckled. “That means Otis can take control of the board again.”

Rico nodded. “Yeah. And we go an ‘in’ with Pelican’s Nest. Good place for Cooper to make some high-end contacts once the excitement dies down. Ol’ Otis didn’t strike me as the type to let a few Feds in cheap suits ruin his long-term plans.”

“Oh, he’s not, Rico. That guy is a survivor if ever there was one.” Sonny sighed. “Still…it’s a damned rotten game.”

“Rotten to the core, partner. Always has been, always will be.”

“Finish your reports.” Castillo looked down at one of the folders on his desk. “Then report back. I’ve got a case for you.”

“Some things never change, partner.”

“No, Rico. That they don’t.” Sonny got to his feet. “That they don’t,” he repeated, remembering the feel of Margaret’s lips on his shoulder. Then it was gone and he followed Rico to the squad room. “And I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink. It’s gotta be past noon somewhere.”

[Robbie C.]

Thanks! I was kinda wondering if anyone would notice these two stories.

[MrsCastillo]

On 11/10/2021 at 2:30 PM, Robbie C. said:

Thanks! I was kinda wondering if anyone would notice these two stories.

These were excellent as always! I periodically check back to see if there’s anything new… probably withdrawals from the task force tales 

[Robbie C.]

12 hours ago, MrsCastillo said:

These were excellent as always! I periodically check back to see if there’s anything new… probably withdrawals from the task force tales 

Thanks! Yeah, I still write Vice on occasion. When the mood strikes, if you will.

[mjcmmv]

Glad I finally got back to read this! It was good to see Margaret again, and watch her squirm under Castillo's evil stare! Great story, and great action as always, Robbie!

[sdiegolo78]

Love it! Keep them coming! I wish you were TV writer

[Robbie C.]

Glad you enjoy them! TV writing isn't really my thing...I like getting into my characters more than that format allows. Still...glad you enjoy them! Honestly, I think I've posted the equivalent of a few seasons here.

[sdiegolo78]

16 hours ago, Robbie C. said:

Glad you enjoy them! TV writing isn't really my thing...I like getting into my characters more than that format allows. Still...glad you enjoy them! Honestly, I think I've posted the equivalent of a few seasons here.

Keep up the good work in the new year too!

[Robbie C.]

3 hours ago, sdiegolo78 said:

Keep up the good work in the new year too!

I likely will...can't seem to stop writing the darned things. Trying to decide between short stories and another novel (maybe set at some point during the series timeline, although I do enjoy the Task Force quite a bit). We'll see. This all tends to be pretty "spur of the moment" for me. I get an idea and just go.

[sdiegolo78]

1 minute ago, Robbie C. said:

I likely will...can't seem to stop writing the darned things. Trying to decide between short stories and another novel (maybe set at some point during the series timeline, although I do enjoy the Task Force quite a bit). We'll see. This all tends to be pretty "spur of the moment" for me. I get an idea and just go.

anything you write is welcome