| |
It was a 40-minute drive from San Jose to San Francisco. I was driving Sully's white BMW 745li. He told me to text him if I got in a spot. But I knew he didn't mean it.
It was a beautiful kind of sunset. The kind of view that would have Lisa on the passenger side of my Crown V. Sketching it all. With her feet up on the dash. Nowadays she only draws dragons.
I crunched another Norco in my teeth savoring the bitter taste. I needed to be focused now. I needed to be pain-free and appear strong.
Selina said she'd help me get into the Mayor's office. But I needed to see the Gold brothers first. They were both busy men. It was after hours now though. I knew where to find them.
I parked in the underground garage of The Fairberg Hotel in downtown San Francisco. I took the elevator to the 24th floor. That’s where the Gold Lounge was.
It was a dark smoky bar for the rich and socially adjacent. This place was so exclusive you had to pay monthly dues just to come buy overpriced drinks.
It was as if black marble and gold trim threw up everywhere. I knew Tariq the bouncer. We’d worked previously back in my old Gold Security days.
He casually walked away while I strolled in the open black tinted double doors. Never making eye contact with me.
The place was laid out with several private booths along the west wall. The bar ran down the middle of the room. Separating the private booths from the black curtained dance floor on the east side of the room.
This place could hold 100 people max. Even tho it's probably only seen upwards of sixty. The Gold brothers owned this place.
I knew for a fact from previous investigations. That the Gold brothers ran broads from China and Russia out of here. You could most likely get any pain killer or some blow from one of the cigarette girls. In their skintight short black “I Hate my Father dresses”.
Lenny and Jerry Gold came here every night. They kept a small section for their activities in the back of the club. It faced the bar and straddled the median. They could see the entrance, the booths, and the dance floor from there.
I approached the table limping slightly. Another bouncer was posted next to a white velvet rope in front of the V.I.P. section. I didn't know this burly Persian fellow in the black suit. He was a touch too large for me to intimidate.
Remy Dove to see Lenny Gold I said. He looked me up and down. Trying to ascertain my immediate threat level. Then he turned and poked his head behind the V.I.P. veil.
I heard a slight rise in voices. Mayor Luke Henry appeared from behind the curtain. He shoved his leather-bound ledger in his jacket pocket. Brushing past me without acknowledging my existence.
The bouncer motioned me to enter. The section was basically 3 booths. The center one was larger and circular shaped. This was where The Gold brothers were sitting.
Welcome home said, Lenny. I hear you had a run in with Bobby at the funeral. How's that leg doing? He sounded sincere. But I couldn't be sure. So I just ignored his question. Lenny wore a black turtleneck and dockers, a.k.a. the Steve Jobs starter kit.
Jerry wore a beige suit with a red tie. Both men drank milk. They were accompanied by two green-eyed slender redheads doing coke off the black glass table in front of them. The young women were wearing the same dress as the cigarette girls. So I figured they were "Company Ladies".
I sat down now next to Thing 1. I think her name was Melanie, Mallory. Whatever. She offered me a line yae. I politely declined. Normally I would. But coke is never a good idea. When you are on painkillers that is.
Jerry was a natural bully. This made him a great lawyer. What do you want Dove? He asked flatly. His face had a look of impatience. I wasn’t here to waste time. I had no patience either. I was starting to feel my wound.
What the fuck are you guys up to? And how was Lisa involved? I said. The Business of Gold International is and will always be none of your business. Said Jerry Gold.
Jerry spat his words at me. Popular opinion would have one believe quite easily that you are somehow responsible for her unfortunate demise.
I had nothing to lose I grabbed him by his beard and yanked him halfway over the table. Champagne and cocaine mixed on the table in a new way.
Don’t make me ask again, I said As calmly as I could muster. True fact about a bully. He’s usually a punk. A little crease and he folds. Jerry Gold was no different.
Lenny enjoyed this on some level as he waved away the security that rushed to the section. He took a sip of his drink then said.” Let my brother go, Remy”.
I let the little man have his beard back. I sat down in the booth next to Lenny. Jerry nervously left us there. Complaining about wasted coke as he walked away.