Authors: Tom Connolly
Carlos’ sales director for CDL felt like his sales force had been significantly expanded with developers looking to make sure CDL was included in every application, along with state directors only awarding permits to CDL tie ins.
The price rose on cement; CDL learned some of the lessons of horizontal integration and were now selling extended services at much higher prices than those of the Mercosur players who surprisingly just could not compete with CDL.
Chapter 29
The inner walls of Auburn prison are so high that on a summer’s day the sun only hits the full court yard for the one hour from just before noon to just after noon. As he passed through the quadrangle at 1 p.m., no sun shone on three quarters of the grass. CJ Strong was hoping that on this visit by his mother, Billy Stevens would be accompanying her.
“Well, if that no good Billy Stevens isn’t here in the next week,” his mother told him over the phone two weeks before this visit, “I’ll collar him by the ear and drag him here with me.”
And when Louise Strong saw the face of her son, she saw the hope sag. She knew what it meant.
“I saw your face, CJ. It dropped when you saw me. Or I should say when you didn’t see Billy with me.”
“No, I just had a thought about something else.”
“No, I know you, CJ. Do you want to tell me what this is about? Something happened when Billy came to visit you, what is it now, six months ago.”
“Nothing happened, Mom.”
“It has something to do with that picture I brought to you, doesn’t it?”
“Mom, let it go. I just enjoyed Billy’s visit and would like to see him again.”
And on her return to Stamford, Louise Strong wangled an invitation out to dinner with her sister, Jackie, Billy Stevens’s mother.
“I went to see CJ the other day,” Louise began as they sat in Antonio’s, an Italian restaurant they could both walk to on Stamford’s West Side and where the food was good and the prices low.
“And how’s he doing?” Jackie Stevens asked her older sister.
“Not so good. The time Billy went to see CJ it really perked him up. But Billy hasn’t been back and CJ is down.”
“Huh,” the younger sister replied.
“Why, huh?”
“Well, I didn’t say anything at the time, but Billy was totally different after he came back from seeing CJ. I mean he was happy, really happy. He was upbeat for weeks afterward, then it all went away. He became his old gloomy self again.”
“I knew it.”
“Knew what?”
“After I went to see CJ, after Billy’s visit, he had me bring an old photo of the two of them playing football one afternoon at the Barnes, with Parker and a bunch of his friends.”
“And?”
“Well, it has something to do with that picture.”
“He’ll be home in a while. He went with his father to the Y. It’s the only time I can expect him home. When we leave here, my dear sister, we’re going to have a little talk with Billy. And we’ll see that his father is there to help us get to the bottom of what’s going on.”
“Thanks, Jackie.”
“We’re all we’ve got.”
“We’re all CJ’s got.”
And like clockwork, at nine fifteen, just after open gym on the courts of the Stamford Y closed, the two men walked in to the presence of the two waiting women.
“Louise, nice surprise,” Willy Stevens said to his sister-in-law.
“Hi, Willy. Hi, Billy,” Louise laughed, “Sounds like a song.”
“Hi, Aunt Louise,” Billy said warily. Since the day CJ was arrested, Louise Strong knew Billy Stevens was somehow involved with whatever happened the night Augusto Santos was murdered. She knew the way he slinked into her apartment that morning and the way he slinked out when the detectives showed up to arrest CJ that he was somehow involved. And Billy knew his aunt knew. He was uncomfortable in her presence. He avoided her when he could; he ducked out of family dinners often.
“Boys, we need to have a talk,” Jackie Stevens began.
“You don’t need me,” Billy said.
“You are the one we do need. Daddy, we need you here to help us sort something out,” Jackie Stevens said.
“What’s up, Louise,” Willy Stevens said, looking at Billy with a wondering eye.
And for the next half hour, almost six years after Augusto Santos was killed, Louise Strong went over her concerns from the past few months, going all the way back to the morning after the murder. She ended by saying, “I always knew CJ never killed that man, and you knew it too, didn’t you, Billy.”
Jackie Stevens gasped at the thought. Willy Stevens looked at his son and said, “If you ever expect to step through that door again, you answer your aunt right now.”
“No,” Billy began, “I don’t. I don’t know who did it.”
“What does that picture of you and CJ and those boys playing football have to do with it.”
“What picture?”
“After you went to see CJ, he became happier. He asked for a picture of all of you playing football at the Barnes house.”
“I don’t remember any picture.”
Willy Stevens backhanded his son in the head, “Tell the damn truth.”
“I don’t. What picture.
“One day when you and CJ were about sixteen you came by the Barnes.”
“I remember that. Some house. I don’t remember any picture.”
“Mrs. Barnes took a picture of all of you after your game, and she gave me a copy of it. After you went to see CJ, he asked me for the picture, and he asked me to have you come see him again.”
“What’s in that picture,” Billy’s father asked him, again raising his hand.
As Billy pulled back from his father, he said, “I don’t know.”
“You do know, Billy. You knew the morning that you came over to see CJ after that man was killed. I saw your face then. It’s the same as now,” Louise Strong concluded, staring firmly at Billy Stevens.
Billy sat down. He didn’t know how to tell the story. He didn’t know how much his parents knew of his outside life. Yes, they knew he was arrested for drug dealing, but he always lied, saying he was only using. He knew what CJ had made him promise on his mother’s soul to never tell anyone. But he also knew he wasn’t strong.
“I can see you scheming. Don’t make something up. Just tell it,” his mother said as his father made a move towards him again.
“There’s nothing to tell. CJ never did the killing, like he always said.”
His father lifted him up by his sweat shirt, “And you, did you do it?”
“Willie,” pleaded his wife, Jackie, “Let him tell us what he knows.”
Releasing his son, the elder Stevens said, “You let CJ rot in that prison over five years now. Your cousin, your best friend?”
Billy paused, and then spoke. “I do not know who killed that man. That is the truth. I believe CJ when he says he did not do it.” The younger Stevens rose, and added, “I’ll go see CJ this weekend and find out what this is about,” and with that he bolted out the door of the apartment.
Chapter 30
Chunk DeLuna brought the legitimate arm of his business, cement, to his native Puerto Rico. Building along the Condado and Isle Verde, two resort areas of San Juan close to the international airport, was growing rapidly. Large condominium complexes were springing up at exactly the time DeLuna and Carlos were introducing CDL Enterprisa’s cement business to the US territory by bribing a municipal purchasing manager and producing the low bid for a public housing complex. This procurement manager was also influential in bringing DeLuna and CDL to the close knit construction community of San Juan. Quietly and in less than two years, CDL had won major contracts for two condo complexes, the new convention center and an extension of the new runway at the Munoz International Airport.
His experience in meeting all key schedules along with a strong reputation for a quality product and his status as a US citizen allowed DeLuna to expand into New York City as a minority supplier in several small construction bids.
Barnes Construction, over the past several years, had been continuously looking for links into the enormous construction arm of the city of New York. Being able to come to the table with CDL, as a Latino supplier and with CDL’s low prices, Barnes was able to win several lucrative contracts with relative ease.
Jonathan Barnes did not have the skill of a general manager able to see the entire scope of his enterprise, nor did he have the relationship building skills required of a master builder that encouraged selection based on personal confidence. What he did possess was the sharpest pencil in town. Quality was a given among the major contractors; the difference maker was the bidding process. With a cement supplier like CDL, Barnes felt he could win even more business.
He asked his son Parker, who was the Vice President of Barnes charged with managing the firm’s New York business, to build a relationship with DeLuna. His thinking, that if he could monopolize the Puerto Rican/Brazilian cement manufacturer, other contractors in the city wouldn’t be able to get at the large cost difference DeLuna provided, even more so now that CDL was shipping cement in its own massive freighters.
Interestingly, while Parker had only two skills for the construction business, they were critical—architecting with an eye for design and, he had developed, world class relationship building skills. All of the major New York architects appreciated a contractor who was an architect and who could value their designs. The younger Barnes had burnished this reputation on two projects, one on the waterfront expansion project for the aircraft carrier, Intrepid, which had become a major tourist attraction for the City. The second was the TeleLatino building on Broadway at 58th St. The later was the first non-City project Barnes used CDL on. The building’s owner was delighted with the price Barnes came up with and even more delighted that Barnes had chosen a Latino contractor for cement and framing of the building.
Outside of work, Parker also brought DeLuna along. He grew to genuinely like the little man. He found DeLuna reminded him of his good friend, Leonard Crane. They had the same animal magnetism—fierce volcanoes bubbling under their surfaces. Besides DeLuna introduced him to the purest form of cocaine he had ever enjoyed.
Chapter 31
Weeks passed before Billy Stevens made the trip from Stamford to Auburn Prison after promising his parents and Mrs. Strong that he would come.
When they greeted each other in the visitor’s area, CJ Strong was more than a bit upset.
“You got the message I wanted to see you. That was almost a year ago. What is wrong with you, why couldn’t you come sooner? I need your help to get out of here. This isn’t a joke.”
Before CJ could continue, in his anxiety Billy broke into CJ’s tirade and said, “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t have time for sorry, Billy. I need your help.”
“I’m here now, CJ.”
“My Mom had this picture of us all from the football game we played at the Barnes’ house and she brought it,” and he handed the picture to Billy. “I figured this would let you recognize who you were with that night the guy got knifed.”
The guard looked over, and CJ indicated that it was just a picture he was showing to his friend. The guard nodded his head.
Billy looked at the picture; looked at it closely, as it was starting to yellow. “Here, CJ, this is him.”
CJ looked over to who Billy was pointing to. “You sure?” he said.
“Yes, of course, I’m sure. That’s the kid that killed the drug dealer.”
Chapter 32
On the night Augusto Santos, the Guatemalan drug dealer, was stabbed to death in Stamford, and for which Curtis Strong was sentenced to twenty-five years in prison, something else occurred.
At the Barnes’ estate on the Shippan peninsula, a loud crash occurred out back in the garage area. Jonathan Barnes woke at the noise, dressed and went downstairs. The live-in housekeeper was coming in the rear door, helping an injured Parker Barnes into the kitchen area. He was covered in blood.
“Parker, what happened,” Barnes senior asked rushing over to help his son sit.
“I hit the garage,” an incoherent Parker answered, swaying in the chair.
“What, were you drinking?”
“No, I wasn’t drinking.”
“Damn it, you’re high as a kite,” Barnes exclaimed, motioning to the housekeeper, “Get some wet cloths, and let’s find out where he’s hurt.”
They took Parker’s jacket off, then his shirt. They began washing the blood off of his hands; there were smudges of blood on his cheeks. There were no cuts.
“What the hell,” Jonathan Barnes exclaimed. “Parker, where did all this blood come from?”
“I don’t know,” a slurring Parker replied, “Oh, yes, I got into a fight.”
“A fight, with what,” Barnes said, his face reddening, something he did in fits of frustration.
“With my fists. A guy hit me in a bar, and I hit him back.”