Black Gangster (24 page)

"If you know so much about us," Brute replied slowly, "you should really know what brings us here."

"Well, I don't," the man answered easily. "I don't have the slightest idea what you boys want."

"Well, you should," Brute continued. "Everybody else that runs a business in this neighborhood pays protection dues, and the time has come for you to start paying yours."

Ed sat back in his chair laughing. "I told you so, Bill. That's just what these punks came here about." He continued to laugh until tears ran out of his eyes.

Bill didn't seem to find anything funny though. "Just how much is this organization supposed to pay, may I ask?" His words were polite, but his blue eyes had turned cold.

Fatdaddy began to feel a little more assured. He spoke up for the first time since entering the office. "As of today, you owe us one thousand dollars."

Bill lit a cigarette. "Ed, I think these punks are serious." He glanced back at the two men as though he had just seen them for the first time.

Fatdaddy leaned forward, now confident that everything would work out right. "It's like this, Ed. Every time one of your trucks turns down Eighth Avenue and comes to this building or your other one across the street, it costs you one dollar. Since Monday, over five hundred trucks have pulled in and out, and we do count both ways."

"Yeah," Ed answered slowly. "I guess you are counting both ways to come up with a figure like that."

"We figure it this way, Ed. You ain't got to pay the money. Since the truck drivers are mostly brokers, all you got to do is tell them and they'll all pay the two dollars every time they come to your warehouse." Brute grinned.

Bill walked over and picked up the phone. He dialed a number, let it ring once, then hung up. "That's just who I figured you'd want to give the screwing to," he said softly. "The truck drivers."

"Just what is it out of your fuckin' pocket?" Brute demanded. "I don't see you driving no fuckin' truck."

Bill answered quietly, his voice revealing no anger. "No, I don't drive a truck, but I'm connected with them. My job is to protect the drivers from just this very thing. And that's what I'm going to do."

Brute pulled a set of brass knuckles from his pocket and slipped them on. "That's a pretty big job you cut out for yourself, little man," he growled. "We just might have to show you how rough it's goin' really be."

Before Brute finished speaking, he had started to move forward. Bill quickly stepped behind the desk. Ed never moved from his seat. He just leaned forward and pushed a concealed button, and the outer door burst open and four huge men rushed in. All of them carried iron pipes, swinging them freely. There was no contest. Brute fought desperately to get behind the desk to reach the men who had set him up, but it was a losing battle. As he sank to his knees beside Fatdaddy, he could hear someone yell, "Don't kill them yet!" It was Bill's voice. "We have to find out where this guy Prince lives."

Ed came from around the desk and glanced down at the two men on the floor. "I wish there was some other way of handling this. I don't like it. The last thing I wanted was for someone to end up getting killed over this crap."

"It's out of your hands now, Ed," Bill replied. "The only thing these punks understand is violence, and that's just what they're going to get-a one-way trip to hell."

THE MUSIC FROM INSIDE the Roost could be heard out on the sidewalk as the party inside went into full swing. A microphone had been set up and a group of girls was standing in front of it, singing the latest hit along with the record.

"Hey, Ruby," a boy yelled from across the dance floor. "What time is Prince goin' get here with the green stuff?"

Ruby, sitting at a table with a group, ignored the question until one of the young men with her addressed her directly. "What about that, Ruby, what time is Prince showing up? I got to pay my boys off this evening or they goin' worry me to death."

Her chair squeaked as she pushed it back and stood up. "Why don't you go and find you a telephone and call him if you really want your money that fast," she replied over her shoulder as she started to walk away.

The Roost had been redecorated. There were new tables and booths around the dance floor, which had been sanded and varnished until it glowed with a glossy finish. The front door had been reinforced with two long iron pipes, making it impossible to kick in the door from the outside. As the buzzer rang from the outside, the two young door guards began removing the bars, after first taking a quick peep through the slit.

Prince came in, followed by Danny and Preacher. Each man carried a black bag about the size of what a doctor would carry. Prince crossed the dance floor and went into the back room, which had been converted into an office. Ruby followed and slammed the door on the overanxious teenagers.

"Prince, what in the hell is Apeman workin' out of?" she asked.

He motioned towards the desk before answering. "Just dump the money out on top of it. Danny, you stack it up so we won't have no trouble counting it out when those kids start pouring in." He turned to Ruby. "Woman, how in the hell am I supposed to know what Apeman is working out of? I ain't seen him in three days." He hesitated, then asked, "Didn't he go with Brute and Fatdaddy to take care of that business?"

"Hell no," she replied bluntly. "I tried to reach you on the phone but I couldn't catch up with you." She glided towards him with her swift, sinewy grace. "Brute and Fatdaddy stopped at his place to pick him up, but he wasn't there. They called and told me to tell you they were going on over by themselves."

Prince shook his head. Again he wished he had followed his right mind and left this job alone. He had believed from the first that it just might turn out to be trouble but had ignored his hunch. Oh well, he reasoned, whatever happened, he'd find a way to handle it.

Prince pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one, trying to conceal his slight nervousness. "It ain't nothing to worry about, baby. Apeman is more than likely gettin' him a piece of leg somewhere, and it done got too good for him to let go." He laughed loudly. Where in the fuck could that bastard be, he wondered. I'll fix his goddamn ass whenever he does show up, he promised himself angrily.

"Goddamn," Danny exclaimed. "I ain't never seen that much money in my life." He reached down and picked up some bills and let them trickle through his fingers, the way a child would do.

Preacher emptied his two bags of money. "Prince, just how much is that on the desk anyway?" he asked.

Danny laughed excitedly. "He ain't stiffin', Prince. Goddamn, that's a lot of cash for just one week's take." He hesitated, then added, "Besides, we don't even know how much you took out for other expenses."

"What I took out for myself and other people that won't be here tonight would just above cover what you see on top of the desk now, Danny."

"Beautiful, baby, that's just beautiful. You mean to say, Prince, we don't even miss that money from them four dopehouses the Black Cougars closed down?" Preacher asked.

A flash of anger crossed Prince's face, but he quickly covered it. He smiled tightly. "That shit the damn Cougars are workin' out of ain't about nothin'. We opened them same joints back up, only in different spots. I don't see no reason for us to have no goddamn shootout with them brothers, so I just move the joints when they pressure them."

He glanced up at his men. He didn't want them to become worried about the Black Cougars, even though it was becoming a very sore spot with him. It went a lot deeper than just moving his dopehouses. The pushers were becoming frightened to such a degree that even more money was no temptation. Two of them had just quit, packed up, and left the city.

Ruby stopped stacking the money long enough to put her arms around Prince's neck. "We got this city right in the palm of our hands, baby." She kissed him gently on the cheek.

He unwound her arms from his neck. "Not quite yet, baby," he replied, "but give us a little more time and it shouldn't take too fuckin' long. Ruby, go out and tell everybody that came to collect money for their district to get in line outside the door. Make sure that no more than two come in at a time. After all that goddamn noise and shit they made before, my nerves ain't up to handling it tonight."

After the last couple to get paid off had left the office, Prince leaned back in his chair and lit a stick of reefer. He slowly made eight large stacks of money out of the pile left on the desk. He gave Preacher and Danny both a stack, then put one in his own pocket.

He glanced down at the five stacks remaining. "Ruby, you see to it that Fatdaddy, Brute, and Apeman get three of these, then find Donnie and give him one. The last stack is for you, baby. Take it downtown and get something for yourself you think I might like."

Preacher moved towards the door. "Since my old lady's belly is too big for her to do anything, I think I'll ease out of here and try and find me one of them young girls that just love to be with me." He grinned over his shoulder as he stopped before the door. "I'll be around if you want anything, Prince."

Prince smiled at him and waved him out the door. He knew Preacher was just about the only married man in his gang. The rest of them just shacked up when the mood hit them, but Preacher had been married to Dee Dee for over three years.

"I think I'll do the same thing," Danny said, waiting for Prince to okay it.

As the cigarette began to burn his finger, Prince put the reefer out and made a cocktail out of the roach. "Get a table near the dance floor," he said contentedly. "I'll be out there in a few minutes myself."

The phone rang and Ruby reached across the desk to pick up the receiver. "Just a second," she said, holding out the receiver to Prince.

"Where are you at?" Prince asked sharply after listening for a few seconds. "It shouldn't take you more than ten minutes to get over here, Racehorse. Come through the alley and knock on the back door. I'll make sure no one sees you on this end."

Ruby whistled as Prince hung up. "Something must have really come up to make Racehorse come here," she said.

Prince grunted his answer, then settled down to wait. Something always seemed to come up just when he was hoping everything would turn out all right. He didn't have long to wait. In eight minutes, a slight knock was heard, and Prince stepped quickly to the back door. He removed a large two-by-four and unhooked three chains. The door swung open into the room and Racehorse stepped inside.

His eyes quickly scanned the room, taking in everything of importance. "Hi there, Ruby, what's been happening, girl?" he asked politely. "It's been a little while since I've seen you, baby."

She flashed him a brief smile. "I hope whatever brought you here ain't so important that I'll wish I hadn't seen you tonight."

He shook his head. "You know it's got to be bad or I'd never risk coming over here, baby. I don't dig this section of the city, no kind of way."

Prince made sure the door was locked tight before joining the conversation. "Let's make it as quick as possible, Race, I know the police have got this goddamn place watched."

Racehorse glanced nervously at the back door. "Man, I know the fuzz would catch hell trying to kick that door down, but how the hell would I get out if they were back there trying to get in?"

Prince pointed to a rope hanging down from a hole in the ceiling on the east side of the room. "That leads to the roof. From there you can jump to the building next door. Then you just follow the rooftops. By the time you come to the end, you should be at least eight houses away from here."

Racehorse nodded. "I'll get right to the point then. Apeman done gone and got hisself killed." His words had the effect of a gunshot. There was stunned silence in the room for a brief moment.

"You sure of that?" Prince asked sharply, his mind reeling.

"There's no doubt about that part of it. The bastard's as dead as he'll ever get."

"It don't seem like anyone else in this whole city is up on this news, Racehorse. Where did you come by all this first-hand information? I know couldn't none of them white whores you stay with be up on it." Prince tried to keep his confusion from showing.

"If me and Tony hadn't been over in Chicago pickin' up those tommy guns, Prince, I might have stopped it. These cats come over from Chi the other day and as soon as they hit the city they called me up. After they couldn't reach me, baby, they went on and took care of the job they came for." Racehorse waited, watching closely. He was curious about the effect his words were having on Prince. He had realized that his message would produce some sort of impact, but he hadn't expected Prince to be shaken so hard.

Prince managed to get himself together. At first, he had thought it was the Mafia striking back because he had attempted to pressure the trucking company, but he realized that that couldn't be the reason.

"Who did it?" The question was sharp and direct. Prince stared coldly at Racehorse, waiting for an answer.

Racehorse walked over and sat on the edge of the desk. "One of the studs was my rap partner in a bit a long time ago. He took the prison sentence, Prince, just so he could cut me loose."