Midnight. I was still at Homicide, my head in my hands.
I’d watched Kessler and Reitz play it as best they could, but it wasn’t enough. Tyrell wasn’t going to talk. Despite the fear in his eyes, despite his fiendlike jitters, he wasn’t going to implicate Tony.
My phone went off for the second time in twenty minutes. Vinny. I’d ignored his last call, but this time I had to take it. I didn’t need him getting suspicious.
“Yo.”
“Darren, I been calling you. Where you at?”
“Just got home.”
“We’re about to have a meeting. Nine-one-one, son. Nine-one-one. The China place.” He hung up.
So they’d heard that Tyrell had been arrested.
I glanced at the TV screen. I doubted anything would change while I was gone. Kessler and Reitz would probably throw in the towel soon.
The China place was an abandoned town house in a seedy part of Chinatown. The front steps were crumbling, but the back entrance was usable. I’d been here once before. There was no furniture, just dirt and dust and whatever trash the latest squatters had left behind. I watched where I stepped in case there were syringes on the floor.
Inside, everybody was standing in a circle.
“You heard about Tyrell getting picked up?” Vinny asked.
I acted surprised. “When did it happen?”
“Few hours ago.”
“What they got on him?”
“We don’t know yet,” Marcus said.
Tony cracked his knuckles. “Bitch-ass kept a gun I told him to throw away. I’ll fuck him up.”
“He won’t talk, will he?” I asked.
“Nah, he won’t talk,” Marcus said.
Tony didn’t seem so sure. “No doubt the cops will wanna make him a deal.”
“It’s on him,” Vinny said. “It’s all on him. You got no worries.”
“Don’t I? I should’ve ended him when he fucked up the Blood bath!”
“You couldn’t have known this would happen,” Marcus said, trying to calm him down. “Tyrell won’t snitch. Not if he wants to live another day.”
I had a strong instinct on how to play this. “I hope you’re right,” I said to Marcus. “But the cops will mess with his head. I bet they’re telling him that Tony’s gonna kill him no matter what, just to make sure he stays quiet.”
Marcus glared at me. He wanted to stop Tony from doing something rash.
“Darren’s right,” Tony said. “Tyrell could talk either way.”
“Unless we get him a message that if he keeps his trap shut, you’re cool with him,” I told Tony.
“Makes sense to me,” Ray-go said. “We could send somebody to see him. Let him know that if he stays quiet, we’ve got his back.”
Marcus thought about it. “Maybe McFadden.”
Damn it. McFadden was Tony’s expensive lawyer. It made perfect sense for him to deliver the message.
Tony shook his head. “This is too steep for him. This ain’t some trafficking case. This is about a cop. We can’t trust some crooked-ass lawyer with that.”
Marcus gave up the point. “Then one of us better do it.”
At that moment, we all looked away from Tony.
“Darren,” Tony said. “It was your idea. You do it.”
“But—” Seeing Tony’s hard stare, I nodded grudgingly. “Okay.”
My fists tightened with satisfaction. For once, Tony had played right into my hands.