Джеймс Паттерсон - The Red Book

He’s had an idea percolating along these lines anyway. He’s been hoping it wouldn’t end in Harney’s death, but he probably can’t stop that now. This idea, though, now that he thinks about it, is probably the perfect solution.

Let’s see what Carla thinks.

Chapter 79

PORTER HAS two choices. Hard or soft.

It’s all he’s thought about since leaving Disco a few hours ago.

He’s made his decision. He gets there first, parking as close to the runway at Midway airport as he’s allowed, a small lot off the one for general aviation, close to the fire station.

Gangsters like to talk at airports because eavesdropping is nearly impossible and, in many cases, illegal under federal law. But that’s not why Porter chose the airport.

He chose it as a reminder. This is where he first met Carla Griffin.

She pulls up five minutes later, gets out of her car, looks around. “Is this your idea of a joke, meeting here?”

“We’re past jokes, chica .”

She stops just short of him. The overhead lights give enough illumination to reveal the gleam in her eye, at least her unswollen eye, but not much more of her expression.

“Why do I feel like I’m the only one who doesn’t know what the hell is going on?”

“Probably cuz that’s true,” says Porter. “That’s about to change. But first, tell me what happened today.”

She does. The anonymous delivery of a video of the K-Town shooting showing two white guys in the front seat ( Fuck, and after all that work killing Latham Jackson ); the same white guys captured by the POD footage after Harney chased them from Shiv’s house ( Motherfuck ); Harney coming clean—or somewhat clean, anyway—about his suspicions and resisting the idea of the FBI being brought in.

As bad as it is to hear this, Porter feels good knowing that his idea, the plan he’s formulated, is the right one. He has all this covered.

Okay, here goes. He better keep his lies straight. That’s the problem with lies—they’re a lot harder to remember than the truth.

“Harney’s dirty,” he tells her. “He’s a wrong cop.”

Carla steps back. “Bullshit.”

“Doesn’t seem like one, does he?”

“No,” she says, “he doesn’t.”

“Right, cuz he’s a smart wrong cop. But wrong all the same.”

“Give it to me, then,” she says. “All of it.”

He starts to reach for her, thinks better of it. He’s decided on soft, not hard, but he doesn’t wanna be too soft.

“Harney protects a sex-trafficking ring,” he says.

He can’t see Carla’s expression. He wishes he could.

“Jesus,” she whispers. “For real? No bullshit?”

“Definitely no bullshit. Could I prove it in court right now? No. But am I sure? Sure as I’m standing here.”

“So…he protects the ring that puts black-lily ankle tattoos on their girls?”

“No, no. No, no.” He touches her arm, after vowing not to. “No, he protects a rival group. A group that doesn’t like competition. This was a turf war, all right. Just not one involving drugs. It involves girls .”

“So the crew Harney protects, they killed Evie. Because she’s a competitor.”

“Right.”

“So what’s Harney doing? What’s tracking Evie back to where she came from going to accomplish?”

“Don’t you get it?” Porter says. “The crew he protects, they wanna take over the black-lily crew’s business. Harney wants to know their supply lines back to other countries. He wants to know anything and everything he can about them. He’s using this case as an excuse to get it.”

“But without my help,” she says. “And without the Bureau’s help.”

“Exactly. You’ll get in his way. The crew he’s protecting, they want to take over their rivals’ supply line, get their customer lists, grab their girls, then kill the black-lily crew. You wouldn’t allow that. Neither would the FBI. You’d want to arrest them, prosecute them. He and his crew want to kill them and swallow their business.”

“Wow. That…that all fits, I guess.”

Of course it all fits. I didn’t get where I am by being a mope.

“And Junior Peppers?” she asks. “We found the AR-15 in his car. The murder weapon.”

“Yeah. The guy shoots up K-Town, the press goes wild with it, all kinds a heat on him, and he just leaves the assault rifle in the back of his car ? That never seemed odd to you?”

She allows for that. “So Harney planted it,” she says.

Porter did, actually, through one of his mushrooms. But yeah, Carla’s taken the hook and bitten down hard.

“And Harney planted the Sig in Prince Valentine’s apartment, to tie the whole thing up.”

“Now you’re getting it.” Porter made that happen, too, but Carla’s locked in now. “Harney picked Prince well,” he says. “An easy scapegoat. A gunner for the Nation, out on MSR—big surprise he might be slinging dope to make ends meet. No surprise at all he’d run when you knocked on his door. And pretty convenient that Harney put him in a coffin so he couldn’t defend himself.”

“No, Valentine shot at him first,” she says. “Saw it with my own eyes.”

“Maybe so. That may be how it played out. But either way, Harney wasn’t gonna let Valentine leave that roof alive.”

“Wow. Wow, really?” She does a little circle. She’ll work this over. But it will all fit, as she put it. “Harney knew all along that K-Town wasn’t a drug thing. He played me the whole time.”

“He played everybody. Mr. Squeaky-Clean Image.”

“God.” She touches her chest. “I feel like I’m gonna be sick.”

“Yeah, on that topic—you don’t look so good, lady,” he says. “Might be time for some sick leave.”

She looks up at him. “Yeah?”

“You got that big-ass wound on your face. Plus, of course, the ‘cancer.’ Maybe you’re having bad nausea.”

“Why?” she asks.

“I think this is happening the next day or so,” Porter says. “Next twenty-four hours. He’s close to finding these guys’ identities.”

“He is? He didn’t tell me that.”

“No shit he didn’t tell you. But he’s got a bead on them. He’s about to make his move. And IAB’s gonna be there.”

“I should be, too.”

“And risk getting caught up in this? That’s the last thing you need, kid. Believe me, a dirty cop gives off skunk spray. You’ll stink for years after, even if you didn’t do anything wrong.”

That seems to make sense to her. “Yeah, it gives me a snitch tag, too.”

“Exactly. This way, you can act just as surprised as everybody else. And really, nobody’ll think twice, you take a day off after that thing on the rooftop. So disappear tomorrow, okay? That’s an order.”

She raises her hands. “I got it; I got it.”

“Maybe take a long weekend. You and Samuel and the mother-in-law get away, go to a water park or something. Maybe the Dells. Tell you what—my treat.”

“C’mon, Porter, you don’t have to do that. I feel like an idiot now for doubting you.”

“Nonsense.” He peels off fifteen bills, fifteen hundred dollars. “You’ve more than earned it, kiddo. We’ve had our eye on Harney for a long time. This is great work you’ve done.”

She takes the money, nods.

“Jesus,” she says. “Just when I was starting to like the guy.”

Chapter 80

VALERIE, THE GUN under her chin.

Don’t come any closer, she says.

I won’t. She’s gone. She just died. I just came from the hosp—

And I wasn’t there .

I called you, over and over.

But I didn’t answer .

Nope—you were busy, looks like. Taking the easy way out.