The System - A Detroit Story - (10 page)

Khe Sahn came down the next day. Vinnie came out unscathed but Eddie wasn't so lucky. Eddie took two hits from an AK47, one in the shoulder and one near the stomach to the spine, paralyzing him from the waist down. Eddie was completely numb and feeling just fine from morphine as the medevac chopper lifted from the LZ. During surgery the doctors decided to leave the slug in his spine rather than risking more damage.

Eddie spent three months in a Saigon hospital, then six months in a hospital stateside. On discharge he went back to Detroit and went to work at ACE, focusing on running the business, forgetting about Nam and learning to live with his disability.

Nobody gave a shit about returning Vietnam vets. They were considered the enemy also, right along with Johnson and Nixon. Eddie hid in the inner office at ACE, thinking about Nam and women. Never got laid at home. Not by an all-American girl. Sure, he fooled around with some girls in high school, but never the full thing.

On leave he went with Vinnie to a whorehouse in Saigon a couple of times, but GIs were suspicious and wary of hookers. Funny how they said "You like boom-boom? I boom-boom you real good." Most were VC and everyone heard the legends about GIs getting fatal doses of clap and the hookers who stuck razor blades up their snatches.

Eddie looked up at Chris, smoking the cigarette. "Gimme one of those."

"I thought you quit," said Chris.

"New Year's Resolution," said Eddie. "Start smoking again and drink more."

Chris pulled the pack from his pocket, tapped out a smoke and handed it to Eddie.

"Light?" said Eddie.

"Jesus," said Chris. "Smoke it for you too?" He pulled out his old Zippo, flicked it and held it to the cigarette. Eddie lit up.

"You know," said Chris. "The Escalade driver can ID me. What if Vinnie won't let this go? We're fucked, big time."

"That ship has sailed. Vinnie's got bigger fish to fry. We do this Marriot boost and we're gold."

Chris took a drag off his cigarette. "What about this Paulie asshole? You know that's why Vinnie stuck him with you. He doesn't trust you." Chris flicked the cigarette ash on the shop floor. "Where you gonna put this guy, anyway? No way he's with me."

Eddie thought a moment. "I'll put him with Zippy, maybe Clarence."

"Clarence'll kill him," said Chris.

"You're right," said Eddie. "Zippy it is."

*   *

Vinnie drove out of Detroit and took the Square Lake exit toward Bloomfield Hills. He turned on Telegraph Road and passed by where the old Red Fox restaurant once stood. One day was fixed in his mind, July 30, 1975. The day he made his bones. The mark really did look like a bulldog. Scheduled to meet Tony Jack and Tony Pro, have lunch, square things.

Didn't happen.

Instead of meeting Tony Jack and Tony Pro, Vinnie met him with two guys from New York. Told him the big guys didn't want to meet in public, and said they were here to take him to a house in Bloomfield Hills to meet with them. The mark didn't like it and was suspicious, of course, but what could he do? This was the last chance to make things right before everything turned to shit. The mark got in the car, sitting between the two guys from New York. Vinnie drove.

They went to an isolated house near Stony Craft golf course, got out, went inside and one of the New York guys did him right there, in the foyer. Two shots, back of the head with a 38. Vinnie was on cleanup detail, mopping up the blood as fast as possible and bleaching it down while the New York guys wrapped the body in a blanket. Clean, well placed shots. A little brains and blood in a side table, but none on the walls. These guys were good.

They waited until dark. Just so happened they were pouring the foundation for the new Matilda Wilson wing of the Detroit zoo's aviary that night and next day. They just poured one slab a little early, which was no big deal since Vinnie's boss was hooked up with one of the contractors. They took the body to the zoo in a work van, drove to the construction site and put the body and the blanket in the excavation. The mixer was already rolling. They covered the body with concrete and smoothed the slab, the first poured for the new wing.

Now, when families ooh and aah at the exotic birds cruising around the aviary, the have no clue they're walking over Jimmy Hoffa.

Chapter 15

Vlad Visits Jerzy

Jerzy Vogodian was stunned when he looked through the peephole and saw the Dragon. "Shit," he said, tapping the bouncer's shoulder. "Open the door, open the door." The bouncer obliged. Vlad was smiling and looking down at an image on his cell phone sent by Gregor.

 "Vlad, my old friend," said Jerzy. "I didn't expect to see you so soon." Jerzy stepped aside. "Come in, come in." Vlad flipped his phone shut, stepped in and each man hugged and patted the other on the back both with eyes wide open.

"So what brings you back this time?" asked Jerzy.

"Just some business," said Vlad. "And pleasure." Vlad smiled. "What do you have that's new?"

Jerzy stepped back and tried to recall where Elena was at the moment. After adding the receipts and cash for an hour he forget where she was supposed to be- dancing or with a customer. Sloppy. He turned and looked around the floor and stage. She must be with a customer. He saw Miri at the bar, smoking a cigarette.

"Not much new," he said. "Business has been slow. I can set you up nicely, though. Follow me."

They walked past the bar and Jerzy snapped his fingers. The bartender pulled a bottle of Absolut and started a setup with two glasses and ice. Jerzy and Vlad walked through the main parlor, passed the stage and entered a private room lined with red velvet wallpaper, furnished with a couch and two oversized blue velvet chairs. Vlad sat on the couch and Jerzy sat in a chair. Techno droned in the background.

Jerzy glanced at the bar and saw the bartender was finished with the tray. 

"Let me get our drinks," said Jerzy. Vlad nodded. Jerzy stood and walked to the bar. A naked woman slowly started walking towards Vlad, seeing Jerzy leave.

"Miri, where is Elena," said Jerzy. 

Miri studied Jerzy's expression, never seeing him this nervous. "Upstairs with someone."

"Go upstairs. When she is finished tell her to stay there. Out of sight. She is not to come down, understand?" 

Miri looked over Jerzy's shoulder and saw Vlad. Vlad looked at her as the naked woman walked up and stood in front of him.

"Go. Tell her now," said Jerzy.

Miri nodded and walked toward the stairs. Jerzy took the tray with the setup and walked briskly back to Vlad. The naked woman looked down at Vlad, swaying side to side, flipping her brown hair. Jerzy motioned for her to leave. She pouted and slowly walked away.

"Just how I remember you," said Vlad. "A waiter."

Jerzy forced a smile. "Old times," he said. "I would rather forget." He poured the vodka into the glassed, the ice popping. He raised his glass and said "Skoal!"

They were on their second round when Vlad said, "Who was that you were talking to at the bar? The one with the missing finger?"

Jerzy sat back. "She's been here awhile."
Vlad nodded. "She looks interesting."

"She's nothing all that special," said Jerzy. 

"The older ones," said Vlad. "They must be exceptional to keep them around. Bring her over."

Jerzy hesitated, then turned and looked toward the bar. He caught Miri's eye and waved her over.

Miri wore a short robe, open with nothing underneath. She walked toward them, one high-heeled foot in front of the other, like a cat. She stopped in front of Vlad.

"Miri, this is my old comrade, Vlad," said Jerzy.

He motioned for her to sit next to Vlad. Miri sat and automatically put her hand on Vlad's inner thigh.

Vlad ignored Miri. "I am looking to purchase." He leaned forward. "What do you have that is new?"

Jerzy shook his head. "Nothing really."

Vlad nodded, took a drink and said, "Any news of the Army lately?"

Jerzy looked at him. "No."
"No? I understand they have been very active. Even around here. Are you sure?"

"Yes, sure," said Jerzy.

"So they have not bothered you?" said Vlad. "That is good, but these times are so uncertain. Unstable. Alliances change so easily, day to day. You never know what could happen. Who to trust." Vlad reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his cell phone, opened it and brought up an image on the small screen Gregor had sent him. 

"I have something to show you," he said. "I just received this from a very good friend of mine." He leaned forward and turned the phone so Jerzy could see the image. "Here, take a good look."

Jerzy wasn't sure what he was looking at, and then it came together. He saw a bloody, beaten body, it's severed head tucked neatly between the right arm and torso, mouth open, eyes bulging. Jerzy jumped back in his chair, away from the phone.

"Is this a threat?" he said.

"Not at all," said Vlad. "But these things happen from time to time." He flipped the phone shut and put it in his jacket pocket. 

Jerzy sat back and closed his eyes for a moment. Then he said, "Miri, go get Elena."
  Miri nodded. "I think she is with a customer."

Jerzy flashed an angry look. "Do it. Now."

Miri got up, walked to the stairway and scrambled up the stairs. A few moments later Elena emerged, wearing a thin, transparent gown over a garter with fishnet nylons and high heels. She walked down the stairs and Miri followed, stopping in front of Vlad. 

Vlad sat up when he saw Elena. "Jerzy. You've outdone yourself with this one," he said. He scanned Elena up and down.

"This is Elena," said Jerzy. "Sit. Both of you."

Elena sat on one side of Vlad and Miri on the other. 

"I think I would like to go upstairs with you," said Vlad. He looked at Miri. "You also."

"Take the penthouse," said Jerzy. "It's all yours."

"You know I would expect nothing less," said Vlad. He stood and said to Elena, "Lead the way." He followed Elena up the stairs. Miri followed. Vlad put his hand between Elena's legs as she slowly climbed.

*  *

Vlad sauntered down the stairway zipping up the jacket of his track suit after finishing with Elena and Miri. Jerzy sat at the table, a good portion of the Absolut gone, staring into space.

Vlad sat in the chair opposite Jerzy. "You taught them well," said Vlad. "The other, although older…." His voice trailed off. "I want them both."

"Elena is a big money maker," he said, reconciling to the fact that Elena would soon be gone. "My best. I keep her in reserve, like a fine whiskey. Very tame with her, let's say, treatments. She can get fiery, though, without. She is dependent, only mildly. Give her what she needs and she settles down." Jerzy sat back. "Miri will do whatever a client wants. Anything, anytime, drugs or no drugs."

"Let's talk business," said Vlad. "Name a price and we go from there."

"Thirty five thousand. Deutschmarks," said Jerzy.

"That's a lot, my old friend," said Vlad, his eyes hardening. "Friends do not gouge friends on price."

"No less than twenty five. Deutschmarks," said Jerzy.

Vlad nodded. "Ten thousand. American dollars. For both," he said.

Jerzy sat up. "I do not want to let Elena go. Not for that," he said.

"I can see why," said Vlad. "Where did you find her?"

"Let's just say she found her way to me," said Jerzy, taking a drink of vodka.

 Vlad looked coolly at Jerzy. "Fifteen. Fifteen thousand is more than generous, don't you agree?"

"Euros," said Jerzy.

"Dollars," said Vlad.

Jerzy looked at the pocket where Vlad put the phone. 

"Deal."

Vlad smiled. "Good. I will be back tomorrow."

Chapter 16

Dogfight

Cletus B. Lincoln parked the rusty Jeep Cherokee four houses down the block. Great vehicle for this neighborhood- rugged, could four-wheel through just about anything or anybody. Lincoln just shook his head at the pimp machines, two parked ahead, near the house. Big tittie hood ornaments, lake pipes, gangsta walls, spin wheels and shag interiors. Dumb asses. The DPD loved these rides, easy to track and place at a scene. 

He looked in the rear view mirror before getting out of the Jeep. He tried to look away from his nose but couldn't help it, almost flattened and pushed to one side. Never healed right.

…Lincoln couldn't stand the sight of the kid. Dirty, little motherfucker. Funky smelling. It was a game, harassing him. Take shit away from him, cookies, chips, pop, whatever. Didn't matter, just as long as he had something worth taking. The kid just stood there and took it, not saying anything, not crying. Lincoln laughing with his friends, making faces and eating or drinking what they took. Kid never had any money. How old was he?  Seven, eight? His mama didn't say shit either. Always with some new dude, every time Lincoln would see her…

Lincoln remembered walking to the party store with his mother, seeing the punk's mama working the corner, laughing and cackling with a couple of dudes. Lincoln's mother grabbed his sleeve and strode by with her nose literally in the air. 

One day, in front of a couple of girls Lincoln cornered him and tried pulling the kid's pants down. The girls giggled while Lincoln bobbed and weaved, grabbing at the kid's baggy jeans. He got the jeans halfway down, the girls squealing, when the kid stood firm and landed a roundhouse on Lincoln's left ear. Lincoln still remembered the impact, the popping sound as the air compressed in his ear canal, the bright flash, and shock. He remembered dropping to the ground. The kid straddled him and pummeled away at his face, finally punching him square in the bridge of the nose. Lincoln held his hands over his face, feeling his nose swell to twice its normal size. The girls ran away. The little punk got up, didn't say anything, pulled up his jeans and walked away. Lincoln and his mother moved out at the end of the month. Lincoln never saw him again. 

…Learned something from it, though. Don't be direct. Back door it. If you want to fuck someone over, do it indirectly, from behind. Never hit them head on…