Gorman had five files open on his desk. He moved his hands across them like the pointer on a Ouija board. He showed no outward reaction when Gunny poked his head in.
“I’ve got Mason on line one, and Chiba’s blinking on two.”
“Tell Mason I’ll call him back,” Gorman said, eyes settling on a particular folder’s contents. “I want to know what’s going on with Ms. Chiba. And page Ms. Sanchez for me.”
Gorman ran his fingers through his thick hair and sipped a little coffee. It was his seventh cup of the day, which told him that the afternoon was almost past and soon he’d be able to put all this away for the weekend and spend some quality time with his Patsy. He hit the button on his phone that would put the next call on speaker and leaned back in his chair.
“Good afternoon Ms. Chiba. What do you have to report?”
“She’s boning a car salesman!”
“Excuse me?” Gorman said, sitting up a little straighter. “Are you saying, in your typically crude way, that Mrs. Brooks is having an affair?”
“No, I mean she’s doing him right now. In the bleeding bathroom, for Christ’s sake.” Gorman was still smiling at Chastity’s odd habit of mixing Britishisms with American slang at times of excitement when the audio changed. Chiba must have taken an earphone from her ear and pressed it against the receiver. From the whispered cries of the woman on the line, Mrs. Brooks either was having a religious experience or was rapidly approaching orgasm. Just as she began to cry out, “Now! Yes, now!” the sound disappeared.
“You see?”
“I would have taken your word for it, dear,” Gorman said.
“I’m sure, but what fun would that have been?”
“In any case, I’m sure you’ve recorded this little event, and that should be enough evidence to stop any proceedings she has begun against her husband. Very good work, my dear, and very quick work too.”
“Thanks for the praise, boss, but I’m afraid this isn’t the end of the case. There’s been some conversation in there in between the moaning and groaning.”
“That must have been exciting,” Gorman said.
“Oh yeah, it’s a carnival. But there’s been some babbling about the daughter, and I think it’s in the context of a psychiatrist.”
The sarcastic smile dropped from Gorman’s face. “Do you think she’s using this for the divorce? Or maybe the little girl’s got problems that could explode if her parents split?”
“This hasn’t exactly been in-depth conversation, G,” Chastity said. “Well, in deep maybe, but not very clear speech. I just think we ought to get those details before we proceed.”
“Agreed,” Gorman said. “Follow through on that line until you’re satisfied you have all the relevant facts. Sorry if that means working through the weekend.”
“No big deal, G. I’ll check in when I know more. Now I better get out of sight before they get their pants on.”
Gorman pushed the disconnect button and sipped his now-cold coffee. Then he hollered through the door.
“Hey, Gunny?”
“There’s an intercom, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. Page Ms. Sanchez again, would you? And then get Mason back on the line.”
Rafael Sandoval had just stood up out of his 350Z roadster and gotten to Ruby’s side to open her door when she felt her purse vibrate. She shoved her hand into the small black shoulder bag to turn her pager toward her.
“Important business, chica?”
“Not even, Rafe,” Ruby said. “My momma don’t never want me to have a decent date. Always calling to see if I been raped yet.”
“Well when you talk to her, you tell your mother that you with a gentleman now,” Rafael said, looking up at Ruby and holding his elbow toward her. “A man who respects you.”
Yeah, Ruby thought, taking his arm. A man who respects this booty. But she had to admit that dinner at a real Mexican restaurant might prove to be the best night in her undercover career.
“How’d you find this place, sugar?” Ruby asked as they stepped toward the door. Maria’s Mexican Bistro was the lone light of fun on this stretch of Union Street in Brooklyn. Bouncy Mexican pop music leaked through the door, but before they got inside a waitress spotted Rafael and pointed them toward a sidewalk table.
“Are you surprised that I would find the best Mexican restaurant in the city?” Rafe asked, pulling out Ruby’s chair. “And now you see why we had to be early, chica. So we could score an outdoor table.”
He was doing everything right. Rafael was that rare man who attended the details. Any man could find a good suit, but this one understood the impact of French cuffs and sterling silver cuff links. His shoes, every woman’s measure of a man, were spotless and highly shined. Even his nails were clean and neatly trimmed. Yep, this one was a keeper. Except of course for that whole drug smuggling thing.
As the waitress approached, Rafael turned and asked, “Are they in there mashing the mint?” When she giggled and nodded he said, “Then I guess we need to have a pair of mojitos.”
“Now when she brings the drinks,” Ruby said, leaning close so the candle on the table cast her face in a soft, sepia glow, “you gone have to tell me all about what you do to make all this money.”
Rafael leaned back and flashed his own brilliant smile. “You want to know why you see me meeting people at the airport so often, don’t you? Well, maybe I’ll tell you a lot more about me, if things work out. By the way, have I told you how good that dress looks on you?”
“No, but it’s not too late. You can tell me when I get back. I need to go, um, shed a tear.”
Ruby rose and made sure to shake her groove thing a little more than usual on her way into the small, brick walled restaurant. The room was completely candlelit, but she managed to find the ladies room beside the corner bar. She really wanted the privacy of the restroom to make a phone call.
Gorman strained to hear Mason’s voice. “What is that racket? Are you trapped in a riot or something?”
“Worse,” Mason replied. “That is my Champ, playing with our new little visitor.”
“You home?”
“Yeah, Paul. We went to Irv Jerome’s office today, and we ran into a little situation.”
Gorman closed his eyes and leaned back in his office chair. He had heard too many stories that started that way, and they never ended well. “What sort of situation, Stone?”
“Some guys interrupted our search. Obvious mob muscle.”
“Oh God,” Gorman moaned. “That wacko partner of yours didn’t kill anybody, did he?”
“Relax, Paul, we never even drew on these guys. Just had to rough them up some. I’m sure they think they interrupted burglars from a rival gang of bad guys. The monkey wrench in the gears is, Jerome’s secretary came in while we were there. She’d have taken the heat for our break-in, so we couldn’t just leave her there.”
In the background Gorman heard a flurry of rapid-fire conversation, beginning with one woman snapping “Sam!” and another saying “So I’m a monkey wrench now?”
Now Gorman’s voice rumbled in a low chuckle. “So, you took her to your place. Sherry must love that. And your dog’s playing with her?”
“Not with her. She’s got a kid.”
Now Gorman was laughing out loud. He could picture the scene, and it was priceless. “A kid? Sherry must reeeeeally like that!”
“The good news is, if we can keep the girl alive I think she’s got some information that can help us bust this case, and maybe bring down the guys Jerome works for, now that we know for sure that he’s mobbed up.”
Behind Mason’s voice, Gorman now heard “Sam. Rickard. Come to dinner.” That would be Sherry, very good indeed at lining up the troops.
“Hey, Paul, I got to go,” Mason said.
“I’m sure you do,” Gorman replied. “Have a good dinner. Think I’ll be heading for the house myself.”
Gorman spun his chair to see the odd purplish layer that hangs on the New York horizon some days just as night falls. As he reached to cut the connection on his call, a new button began flashing on his phone.
The intercom said, “That’s Sanchez,” in that voice Gunny often used that sounded just like “Here comes trouble.” Gorman punched the button.
“Where the hell are you?”
“Don’t get your panties in a knot, white boy,” Ruby said. “If you must know I’m sitting on the toilet in a nice Mexican restaurant trying not to get my panties in a knot.”
“Do you suppose you could be a little more specific?” Gorman asked.
“Well, it’s a thong actually. They get twisted up so easy when you…”
“I meant about your location, smart-ass,” Gorman snapped. Why did he even talk to this woman?
“I’m in a place called Maria’s in Brooklyn, having dinner with the mark. You want me to turn on that homing dingus you gave me?”
“It would be nice to have the telemetry, but it’s up to you if you think you’re safe. Are you making any progress with this guy, what’s his name?” Gorman heard the muffled cantina music, at least confident that Ruby was giving him the straight story.
“Rafael Sandoval. Colombian immigrant who is helping a whole passel of his countrymen join him in the good old
U. S. of A. Of course, he doesn’t know I know that bit. Boss, I just know this guy’s a player, and I think I can get him to open up to me if I just give him enough rope. Whatever his smuggling deal is, it’s got me stumped. If he don’t tell us, I don’t think we’ll ever find out.”
Gorman slid Ruby’s folder closer to himself. “Did you get a read with a different set of dogs?”
“Shee-it, you think I’m stupid as your white boy detectives? Got them to switch out the mutts this afternoon. New hounds wasn’t no different from the old hounds. He must have found something the dogs can’t smell through.”
“No such thing,” Gorman said, pulling a Bic pen from a crowded holder on his desk and making a note in the folder. “So, you think he’ll talk to you, huh?”
“By the time I’m through charming this boy, he’ll be ready to take me home to his mama.” Just then, Gorman pulled the phone away from his ear at the sound of gushing water. The toilet flushing sound echoed in the stall, giving it very full reverberations through the cell phone.
“Jesus, Sanchez, don’t you have any sense of pride at all?” Gorman asked.
“When did you become such a tight ass? Everybody got to piss. Ain’t it good to know I at least flush the toilet after?”
“Look, go back to your date and just check in with me in the morning, okay? I want to get out of this office.”
“You just hoping if you get home soon enough, your wife will give you some, like she didn’t figure out you ain’t got nothing going on this morning.”