to clear my name. I will turn myself in if my uncle is arrested and you garantee my safety. Until then I will keep on hiding.
-David Telano
“I don’t think this shit is gonna fly.” I said, sitting on a bar stool. “I mean come on, you think they’re going to believe Junior Pierson just gave you his car? And that you were going to turn it in the next day?”
“That’s almost the truth.” David said. “Yeah, I was gonna keep the car, but they can’t prove that.”
“They don’t have to prove it. You’re not accused of taking a car, you’re accused of murder.”
“I KNOW!” He yelled. “This letter could help me! I don’t need you to come in here and rip holes in it… Fuck!”
“I don’t have to rip holes in it, it’s already got plenty. I just want to be as tough as the police are going to be.”
“It’s mostly the truth.” He said. “That’s the best I can fuckin’ do.”
“Alright then, send it and let’s hope it doesn’t fall on deaf ears.”
“I need you to e-mail it to them for me.” He said.
“We should send it regular mail.” I said. “That’s harder to trace.”
“But they put a stamp on there that says where it was picked up. They’ll know I’m in town.”
“Not necessarily. You could’ve mailed it to a friend in town and had that person mail it for you.” I pointed out.
“But you could e-mail it from the library or the coffee shop with the computers up on Billard Avenue.” He said. “Then even if they traced it, it couldn’t be connected to you.”
“At the library you have to put in your library card number. They started making you do that after 9-11. And that coffee shop on Billard is always full of people. There’d be witnesses.”
“Okay, so we send it regular mail, can you read my handwriting okay?”
“Yeah it’s fine.” I said.
“I misspell anything?”
“Guarantee has a u, but whatever, it’s readable.”
“Also, you know the names of the cops on the case right? You can address it to them?”
“No, man, ‘cause how would you know their names except through me?” I said. “That would be pretty stupid.”
“The one guy was on TV, what’s his fuck? Um, Burgandy some-shits-”
“Borgano.” I said. “I guess we could address it to him. The guy’s a dick though, I’m warning you. He’s not gonna believe any of it.”
“If he’s the guy, we mail it to him. You’ll look up the address?”
“Yeah.” I said. “Oh and one more thing, can you spare any of that stinky weed? Jessie’s jonesin’ and nobody has anything.”
“Fuck,” he said, “I was going to ask if you could bring me some. I’m tapped out.”
I went up to the guardhouse and changed into my uniform. Someone had the GSA squad car out, so I took a golf cart and headed toward the trailer park. Freddie Divos’ trailer was dark and his car wasn’t there. I looked in the bushes on the other side of the parking lot, but there was no sign of Manny or his camera. I decided to go see if he was home. I took the golf cart down to Fourth Street.
Not wanting to explain to his mother why I was there, I didn’t knock on the door, and instead, leaned over some bushes and looked in the living room window. Manny was in there sitting in front of the TV playing a video game. He seemed to be alone so I tapped on the window. I had to tap again before he noticed and put his game on pause. He looked out the window and saw me, and then came to the front door. “You scared me.” He said. “Why don’t you just knock?”
“Thanks for calling me at the guardhouse yesterday.” I said. “That was really stupid. You think I want my boss to know what we’re doing? Come on Manny, use your head.”
“I didn’t tell him anything.”
“No, you made me come up with a lie on the spot.” I said. “And all so you could tell me nothing. I’d understand it if you had some big news.”
“He’s the most boring person in the world. I watched him for two days and got nothing. He watches a lot of TV.” He said.
“What about right now? Anything could be happening up there.”
“No, he’s been gone all night. He left yesterday afternoon all dressed up, and he’s been gone since. I’m gonna go over there later and see if he came back yet. He wasn’t there this morning.”
“All dressed up?”
“Yeah, he was in a suit.” He said.
“Alright,” I said, “just don’t call the guardhouse anymore.” I gave him my cell number and told him to only call me if he had something to report.
THIRTEEN
“When you were on the force you busted a lot of drug dealers, right?”
John leaned back in his chair and looked at me. It was turning out to be a slow evening and I hadn’t been sent out on any calls since I’d gotten back from Manny’s. “Yeah.” He said. “All the time. Why?”
“I don’t know. I was just thinking about something Mr. Loeffler said to me. He said he could get me a job in law enforcement. I told him I wasn’t interested, but it kinda got me thinking. There’s something attractive about the idea of bringing down a drug cartel. You ever get any big fish?”
“When I was on the taskforce that was our job,” he said, “getting the big fish. It didn’t really work though. We got a lot of possession with intent to distribute charges, but you hit the ceiling pretty quick. The low level people all flip on each other, but nobody’s gonna give up a supplier. You really thinking about joining the force?”
“No, not seriously.” I answered. “I’m just curious how it works. You say the low-level people wont give up the high-level people, but did you ever consider starting at the top?”
“How do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” I said, “maybe you could find someone who fits the profile of a big time supplier, and just watch him until you’ve got enough to make a case.”
“Sometimes you can do it like that, but this is still America. You can’t just start surveillance on somebody because you think he might be involved in something. You have to have some kind of evidence or information to start with. You need a warrant. That’s drugs mind you -terrorism is another story. If they see you so much as looking at a bridge they can ship you off to a secret prison with a sack over your head. Go figure.”
“You ever feel bad about it?” I asked. “Sending all those people to jail?”
“It was my job.” He said. “I know these days they’ll tell you addiction is a disease, but everyone knows it’s a choice. Once you’ve made the choice it might be near impossible to reverse it, but near impossible aint impossible. Lots of people clean up their act. Sometimes doing fifteen months for possession is just the kind of wake-up call these addicts need.”
“But what about Jessie?”
“What about her?”
“You know she smokes marijuana.” I said. “She told me so. She could get thrown in jail for it.”
“I never busted anyone for pot.” He said. “Well, not just pot. If a crack dealer also had some pot, we’d throw that charge on there too, but I’ve never busted anyone for just pot. I’d say most of the people on the force have used it at some point in their lives, and I don’t think anyone takes it too seriously.”
“Some must.” I said. “There’s tons of people in jail on marijuana charges. There’s gotta be cops out there who don’t share your enlightened views.”
“Jessie still smoke it every day?” He asked.
“Yeah, just about.”
“Well, I wish she’d quit, but I doubt that’ll happen anytime soon. Have those detectives been around to see you again?”
“They came by the house the other night.” I said. “They were looking for David, I guess they thought he might be hiding out with us.”
“I know, Jessie told me.” He said. “I meant since then.”
“No, they haven’t been around since.”
“You tell them everything you know?” He aske
d, tilting his head forward to emphasize the seriousness of the question.
“Geez, you sound like Mr. Loeffler.” I said. “Yeah, of course I did.”
“This Telano character, was he always a bad egg?”
“David? Nah. He was a good guy.” I said. “He really was. I mean is, I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him in a long time. After high school I got a real job and started an adult-type life for myself and he didn’t, so you know, we lost touch after a while.”
“He’s a big kid huh?”
“Yeah, you could say that. I don’t think he ever meant anyone any harm, but he was always kind of a trouble magnet, you know? A fuck-up.”
“You think he did all the stuff they say?”
I was surprised by the question. “No.” I said. “No I don’t. There’s something wrong about the whole scenario, but I can’t put my finger on it.”
“He worked for Freddie Divos, at the hotel right? And Freddie’s his uncle?”
“Yeah.” I said.
“David sell dope?”
“No, not really. I mean, just weed sometimes, and even then I don’t think he ever bought more than an ounce or two. No, he was into selling electronics and stuff. I don’t know if he ripped off the stuff himself or just sold it. Anyway, he never physically hurt anyone as long as I knew him. Aren’t killers usually violent to begin with?”
“Yeah,” he said, “usually.” The phone line was blinking and he picked up the receiver and started to give his standard greeting but cut it off. He mouthed ‘Jessie’ to me. He listened for a while and then laughed. “Well, then you shouldn’t worry about it. The police aren’t going to do anything… Yes I’m sure. They have