Chapter 9David
9
David
I take a puff from my cigar and blow it out as a smoke ring into the air. My phone vibrates on the coffee table. I reach for it, pressing it to my ear. “Hello?”
“Boss, bad news,” a familiar voice murmurs through the receiver.
I stub the cigar out on the ashtray on the living room coffee table and plant my elbows on my knees. It’s hard not to groan. I’ve had enough bad news to last me the rest of the year, but here we are.
“What is it?” I ask Vlad, my most trusted captain, my right-hand man for everything.
“I just got a tip from one of the guys working on the South side. Police got wind of the gun trafficking downtown. They are tracing it back to you.” He pauses. “To us, I mean.”
He’s speaking fast in Russian, and I hold my hand up in the air as my pulse comes to a grinding halt. “Whoa. Just slow down, Vlad. Back up. What do you mean they’re tracing it back to me?”
Vlad takes a deep breath. “A local judge has been murdered. One of the guns has been tabbed as being associated with our organization.”
I dig my palms into my eyes and stand up. “What else do these cops know?” I realize I’m shouting and toss a wary glance over my shoulder, lowering my voice because I know Hazel is in the bedroom, probably listening. Even though I’m also speaking in Russian, I don’t want her to get upset if she hears me raising my voice. “Those guns shouldn’t have tracers on them, and all the serial numbers should have been scrubbed off on all of them. This isn’t my doing. I’m not in this gun business, but I’m smart enough to know that.”
“I know, boss. We are trying to sort it out as we speak,” he says, aiming to pacify me. “It’s a sloppy situation.”
“Who’s we?” I ask.
“Me and my crew,” Vlad reassures.
“This is bad.” I lean back on the couch, sinking my shoulders into the cushions, gazing up at the ceiling. I try to ward off a headache sprouting at the base of my neck.
“Well, the good news is, the police don’t have a warrant,” Vlad says, then after another, slightly less confident pause adds, “yet.”
I want to put my fist through a wall, but I restrain myself because I don’t want freak Hazel out and have her come running in here asking me what’s wrong. I can’t have her believing that I’m not in control. It makes me look weak, and she’s writing a story on me. There’s the pressure to perform looming around me like the paparazzi.
“They’re going to be keeping a much more watchful eye on you, I’m afraid,” Vlad continues.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I belt out. “This is exactly why I don’t want to be involved in this chaos.” I’m jabbing my finger in the air and angry spittle is flying from my lips. “I know that asshole Oleg is behind this. I told everyone on my crew, no guns. That asshole never listens. I’m a fool for putting him in charge of anything.”
Vlad blows out a puff of air, but his silence is not exactly commiserating.
“What, you’re telling me you don’t agree with me?” I hiss.
“I’m not saying that boss,” Vlad reassures. “I’m just saying that this is just a complicated mess. Oleg probably sold that gun to someone who used it to kill that judge, and whoever did the hit probably tossed it, not thinking it could be traced back.”
“Or not caring who it got traced back to, leaving that worry to the dealer he got it from,” I grumble.
“Right,” he says solemnly.
I chew my thumbnail. The wheels are turning in my head as I try to piece everything together.
“Just try to calm down, Dave,” Vlad says in a cautious voice, and I know he’s attempting to avoid my explosive temper.
But things are slipping through my fingers and falling through the cracks. I’m losing control of my own organization, and I’m pissed. I’m angry at myself just as much as I am at them.
“Now that clown has brought unwanted attention back to our business. I never wanted this gun running in the first place!” I shout, no longer caring if Hazel hears me.
“Alright, I know,” Vlad’s whispering now. “But you’ve got to relax.”
“Don’t tell me to relax. This needs to be dealt with. Now . I met with Oleg earlier at the apartment on Lake Street. I threatened him and he finally admitted that he’s running this stupid gun trafficking operation. I didn’t see him at the warehouse during the gun fight, and I didn’t recognize the dealers I saw there who were shooting at me and Miroslav. He must have enlisted his own dealers behind my back. When he confessed at the apartment, I pulled my gun on him and he jumped out the window.” It’s a long-winded explanation but I manage to get all the newest facts spilled out.
“Did you go after him?” There is a level of shock in Vlad’s voice. “When he jumped out the window?”
“No.” I grit my teeth and clench my fists until my knuckles turn white. “I thought my threats would be enough to spook him. I knew I wouldn’t be able to chase him, and I didn’t want to attract attention to myself running down the street.”
“Good call,” Vlad agrees, sounding relieved.
“The police activity out there on Lake Street has been heavier lately,” I admit. “If I was caught chasing him down, especially if gunfire was involved, the cops would have even more reason to bring me in for an interrogation.”
“We have to watch our backs now more than ever,” Vlad declares.
“All because of an idiot who can’t control himself,” I grumble.
“Did he say why he was doing the gun running against your wishes? He had to have colossal balls to pull it off. He had to know that eventually he’d get caught.”
“He didn’t pull it off,” I remind Vlad, growling out each word. “Now a judge is dead.”
“It still doesn’t explain why Oleg is on this front in the first place.” Frustration creeps into Vlad’s voice.
“Oleg said he wasn’t making enough money, and that he started the gun running as a side hustle,” I explain.
Vlad explodes into laughter. “Is he serious? He makes more than half the guys on our crew. I was helping do the books the other night. He’s one of our top earners.”
“I called him out on it, too. The flashy Rolex and rings on his fingers sure tell a different story.” My blood is boiling. My head is so hot I want to go stick it in the freezer. “I need to cool down somehow or I’m going to start breaking things.”
“Want to go grab a beer and take out your anger on a dart board?” Vlad suggests.
I glance toward the bedroom. “I can’t do it right now.”
“Why not?” Vlad sounds disappointed.
“I have other things going on right now that I need to take care of,” I explain, without telling him too much because I want to leave Hazel out of it as much as I can.
“Look, Dave, you haven’t done anything wrong.” Vlad switches to English, and his voice is genuine.
“That doesn’t help me when there’s a target on my back now,” I grunt.
“It’s a setback,” Vlad admits. “But we’ve overcome worse.”
“I don’t want my crew bleeding because of this,” I say. “We have to correct the problem.”
“Where do you think Oleg ran off to?” Vlad asks.
I rub my jaw, which is aching because I’m so tense. “I don’t know but we need to find him. I’m not going down for this.”
“I’ll put some of my guys on tracking him,” Vlad declares. “He’s been known to hide out in the slum district when he feels the heat. We can start there.”
I drag a hand through my hair. “It’s as good a place to start as any, but my guys need to be careful, especially going into the slum. The people out there are crazy. And they don’t care if they get caught. They’ll want to go to jail because it means a free dinner and clean socks.”
“Oleg won’t get away with this,” Vlad promises. “We’ll come out on the winning side of this. My guys are smart. They won’t get themselves caught or killed. We’ll make that little weasel squirm.”
I snort. “You better hope so. We can’t afford to lose any of the good ones. If we don’t act fast, the cops will find a way to pin a bunch of bullshit charges on me. The pressure is heavy on me right now.”
“We won’t give the cops any extra reasons to suspect your involvement,” Vlad promises. “In any of this.”
I walk to the kitchen and pour myself a shot glass full of vodka, then down it in one swoop, relishing in the way it burns my throat, trickling down and warming my blood. I don’t chase it with anything. It’s just been that kind of day. Between dealing with Hazel and Oleg, I feel like I’m drowning in the stress.
“Find him,” I grumble.
“And when I do?” Vlad sounds eager.
“Don’t kill him,” I say with a sigh. “We need him alive.”
“Why?” Disappointment makes his voice falter.
“We need to get him to turn himself in,” I explain.
“And if he doesn’t?” Vlad’s voice is skeptical at best.
“I’m sure you can find a way to motivate him,” I insinuate. “Use force, or any means necessary. Just don’t bash his face in too hard. That will make the police even more suspicious that he was bullied into a confession, and they won’t take it seriously. We need to threaten Oleg in different ways. With his family, or something else that he cares about and doesn’t want to risk losing.”
“I can hit him where it hurts,” Vlad says. “Trust me.”
“I trust you. You might be the only one I do at the moment,” I admit.
“You’ve got it, boss,” Vlad chimes as if he lives for these kinds of conquests, and is proud to receive praise, no matter what it’s for.
I have a few conquests of my own to tackle. Getting Hazel not to hate me is one. Staying under the police’s radar is another. Now if only I can find a way to do both successfully, without tangling everything up together and tripping over the mess.
“Let me know how it’s going later,” I instruct. “I want an update on Oleg’s location by tonight.”
“I’ll do my best,” Vlad says, and I know he actually means it.
“If you need me to get involved, let me know,” I tell him. “But this one I prefer to delegate just to you.”
Vlad switches back to Russian. “I will, boss, but I think it’s better if you just lay low for a little while. At least until we can get this gun thing sorted out with the judge that was killed.”
“That’s the biggest thing on my mind right now” I tell him. “Above all the other problems piling up.”
“I’ll enlist some of the smaller crews to take care of the minor issues,” Vlad offers. “We’ll put out as many fires as we can.”
“Okay, good.” I glance at the vodka bottle, debating whether to guzzle down one more shot, just to take the edge off. I decide against it. For now, I’m subdued.
“I’ll call you later,” Vlad promises before the line clicks off.
Now, I’m left to sort out all my worries on my own, inside the prison of my own mind.
I glance down the hallway where Hazel is still in the bedroom with the door closed. I wonder how much she heard of my conversation with Vlad, if she was even listening. I tried to stick to Russian for most of it, which I know she doesn’t understand.
I pace the kitchen, debating whether to go to her and ask for help. She’s writing a piece about gun trafficking anyway. If her ultimate goal is to help blow it wide open with her research, then maybe she can help me, too, remain out of reach of the police’s hawklike grip.
One thing is certain. I’m not going down for someone else’s mistake. If my father taught me anything, it’s to never let someone else bring you down. If you’re going to ruin your life, make sure it was your own damn choice.