Dublin's World

OUR STORY SO FAR: The Vice Squad is gearing up to send their informer into McCarthy Paint's annual Christmas party. What they don't know is that their informer is pregnant with Leo McCarthy's child.

Based on true events.

After four days of sporadic rainfall the clouds blew away and allowed the sun to heat the steel and brick of the city. Claudia stood at the window of the hotel, watching the cabs and cars and buses navigate Van Ness, people scurrying around like colored dots twenty stories down. She turned, glancing at her companions, and decided to shut out the world by closing the heavy drape and shrinking the room in shadow

Judy was still sitting on the bed, holding the purse and shifting it around in her hands, getting a view of it from every angle. Alex Flores, one of the vice squad’s A/V technicians, sat at the hotel desk with his laptop perched in front of him. His head kept shifting from the monitor and over to Judy. Dan stood in the corner and switched on one of the lamps to watch Judy handle the new toy.

“I told you it wasn’t big. It’s tiny,” Claudia said.

Judy nodded sullenly, continuing to turn the purse around.

“It’s not even all that ugly,” Judy said. “It’s kind of cute even.”

“You can basically let it hang from your shoulder and just point yourself in the direction you want to film at,” Dan said.

“Well, you're not going to want to just have it on your shoulder the whole time, that would be weird,” Claudia said and Judy looked over at her.

Claudia stood up from the chair and gently pulled the purse from Judy’s grasp, then carried it over to the corner and sat it on the shelf next to the alarm clock. She shifted it around before motioning for Judy to go over to the computer. The girl made her way around the desk, looking over Alex’s shoulder to view the monitor.

“It doesn’t even need light really,” Alex explained. “It adjusts to whatever the light is in the room right away.”

Claudia switched off the desk lamp, then walked between the beds in front of the purse.

“See that?” Alex looked up at Judy. “You can see her face clearly and it’s pretty f’ing dark in here.”

Judy played with her hair and watched Claudia sit down on the bed on the monitor.

“It looks weird though? Kind of like that Paris Hilton video,” she said.

Alex grimaced and hid the image by clicking and shrinking the page.

“The point is just to get a clear reading to make everything out,” he said.

“Judy, we need to talk about the plan if something goes wrong,” Claudia said from the bed.

Judy moved away from Alex and his computer, her wide blue eyes blinking into the dark room. She took a few steps back into the corner.

“What would go wrong?” she asked.

“Probably nothing, but it’s something we need to talk about.”

“What do you mean?”

Dan sighed from the opposite corner.

“What if someone discovers the camera?” he said.

Judy didn’t say anything. No one could make out her face in the dimness of the room. Claudia switched on the bedside lamp and Judy was looking down at the floor.

“We’re going to be right outside the entire time,” Claudia said. “You have nothing to worry about except getting those shots. If anything was to happen we’ll be in there. I promise you.”

Judy wasn’t listening. Her eyes were wandering around the room, desperately looking for a means to escape or to wake up from a bad dream. Claudia stood up from the bed, coming closer, and Judy turned around into the corner giving them all her back.

“Please don’t make me do this,” the girl said.

“Are you kidding me?” Dan said. “This is what it’s all about. This is it. The only way you’re going to be able to get the sentence we discussed in the original deal is to do this. This is every God damned thing right here!”

Judy’s shoulders were shaking and they knew the girl was crying.

“It’s not just the deal Judy,” Claudia said quietly. “You need to think beyond that. What you’re doing is the right thing, the only thing. Just do your part and remember that you're saving your own life along and other people’s as well. The girls that get victimized by these people, who throw away their lives on drugs. The people that are killed.”

The shoulders stopped shaking. Judy nodded with her head still turned away, then wiped her face with the back of her hand before snatching her jacket off the back of a chair.

“Dan will pick you up at noon at your apartment,” Claudia said. “We’ll meet at the van and go over everything one last time and then we’ll wire you up and test everything. Then you’re on your way. You got it?”

Judy nodded.

“Just remember that all you have to do is be yourself and everything will be fine. Point that camera where it needs to go and we’re right there with you, right outside.”

Judy exited the room without saying a word.

“You sure she’s up for this?” Alex asked the two detectives after the door closed.

“She better be. She has time hanging over her head,” Dan replied.

“She’ll be fine,” Claudia muttered “She’s just dragging her feet like she always does.”

She walked back over to the window and pulled open the drapes. They all blinked in the late morning sunlight.

****

Rollins had woken up that morning with the feeling of a man with his head in a guillotine. He walked around the apartment waiting for the blade to fall and it was slowly driving him insane. He drove to work early and the first hour and a half had given him just enough distraction to make the feeling go away. He had gone through all the inventory, all the little chores he usually put off. When he was finished he could feel the blade coming again and he could feel the ants running wild under his skin

It wasn’t until the cop had called him at Golden Duck that it really sunk in where he had landed. Ten years of relative stability and calm and now this shit? It made no sense. He had moved kilo upon kilo of cocaine during the eighties and had simply ended up broke after a short bid, everyone else from that time was dead. He had beaten a woman nearly to death outside Las Vegas in nineteen ninety two and everyday for five years afterwards he had expected the door to blast open and for some sort of retribution to come. But nothing had. Now he had been caught with a few movies and all the good luck that had followed him for most of his life was for nothing.

He left his office and looked out over the floor of the club. Tracy was doing her job, leading an Arab by the hand, taking him upstairs. By the look of the Arab’s clothes Rollins knew she would be able to milk the guy for at least a few thousand dollars. Rollins took off his glasses and rubbed both of his eyes with the back of his hand. It was a chore to watch over all the small scores, especially with the pressure in the back of his head. He had the sickening realization that none of it mattered at this point

The cops hadn’t asked for much yet but he could tell what was coming. The bitch wasn’t going to let up. She knew too much. It was strange because Leo seemed to want people to know but not really know, it was how he ran a business. Rollins had never thought Leo sloppy but how could a police operation like that be going down and the crew wasn’t aware of it? What the fuck was the point of paying off that fat fuck of a cop when all the other cops were in on everything that went on? Then again, maybe they did know about it. But the bitch knew about the Duck for Christ sake. She knew about the Croat.

Not that Rollins really knew about the Croat, but he knew. He had seen it before. One day a guy was coming to work and shooting the shit and the next day he wasn’t. It’s how it had been with Martinez which had been a relief because Martinez had always been coming in and getting free action from the girls. When Rollins had brought it up with Pat he had been laughed off, the prick. Then Martinez stopped showing his face and then the body popped up and the rumors started. Rollins had thought it might have had to do with his complaint before he heard about the girlfriend’s kid and what had gone on and he knew he had nothing to do with it.

Rollins hadn’t slept since the arrest. He had the sick feeling that he wasn’t the only one around with a blade above their head. He looked towards the front door and saw Murph talking to someone. Murph was smiling wide and his cheeks were pink cherries like they always were. Rollins eyed Murph’s leather jacket and thought of wires and microphones. He looked around a group of three men making their way towards the exit, they didn’t look like cops but who knew? The bitch hadn’t looked like a cop either. She had just looked like another Latin down on her luck, searching for a handout. Picking up a chick in a parking lot, what the hell had he been thinking?

He needed a drink, making his way towards the bar before he noticed Vimal by the wall surveying the crowd. Rollins cursed his luck when Vimal’s head turned his way and they made eye contact. The little Indian slipped across the carpet, planting himself in front of Rollin.

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you man. Where you been?”

The little indian looked up at him with his big dark eyes and Rollins wanted to puke.

“Not right now God damn it,” Rollins said through gritted teeth.

“What the hell Marv?I told you last week I need another box to go up north. The guy can get rid of them all.”

“I’m not in that business right now.”

“What are you talking about? You crazy? Listen to what I’m saying: he’ll take whatever we got. He’s linked it with some sickos up north in Oregon. You listening to me Marv?”

The dark eyes were probing. Rollins knew he needed to calm himself and get a grip before everyone could see the blade above his neck.

“I’m just not in it right now. Too busy.”

“Too busy? What the fuck too busy. I’m telling you, I can get rid of the whole shit right now. This is is.”

“I can’t damn you. Get away from me.”

Rollins tried to brush by and get to the bar but Vimal stayed in stride next to him.

“Put me on your source then. I’ll give you a percentage,” Vimal said.

“I can’t.”

“Don’t be a fucking hard ass Marv. I told you, this guy is connected to a whole network that will buy this shit.”

Rollins felt the distinct need to run. He walked along the bar, the little Indian next to him. He just needed to breath, he knew how to survive this. He just had to be cool. He had done it before. Just be cool.

“I’ll see what I can do. But give me a week you little fucker. And don’t call me. I’ll call you,” he said.

“Good, finally. You’re killing me here.”

They had made it to the bar and Bridgett was bringing Rollins a Captain and coke.

“Which of these girls is the best ass,” Vimal asked, arms crossed.

“All of them,” Rollins replied and sipped his drink.

The little Indian broke away, making his way onto the floor as the DJ introduced the next girl and music began to pulse out of the sound system and against the walls. Rollins gulped the drink down. He looked towards the entrance and spotted Oscar making his way inside. Rollins nodded at him, stumbling towards the office.

“I came in early to get a bunch of work done,” Rollins said stupidly.

Oscar didn’t reply, he just closed the door and stood there. The moron. Rollins didn’t like this one any more than any of the others but he didn’t hate him like he did Leo’s nephew. That was a true prick.

Rollins hit the combination on the safe and pulled the envelope out. He handed it to Oscar and the kid turned around and slipped through the door, never saying a word. Rollins sat on his desk, rubbing his temples with the tips of his fingers. Here he was in his fifties for Christ sake and he was being flipped by the fucking police. Why now? A few more years of working and moving the kiddie videos and he could be in some sunny little south American country, living like a king. He dropped his hands and looked at the blank wall, defeated. He just needed to remember to be cool, and maybe, just maybe, he would get out of this thing on his feet.

****

Oscar maneuvered the car around the block and pulled into the garage under the Duck. He parked next to the Escalade they kept there for pick up’s and hit the security combination into the pad next to the steel door in the wall. As he pushed the door open he looked up and saw the new camera that had been installed into the concrete above him. It watched over the parking lot, where the Croat had supposedly left with the money.

He passed Javey in the hallway after he got out of the elevator and the man wouldn’t look at him. He knocked on the door to Yellow Charlie’s office and got no reply so he headed down the passage, making his way to up to the entrance to the bar. He knocked on the door three times and Bobby Flores opened the door for him, nodding. The usual drunks were sitting at the bar and the Filipinos were playing the dice game with Tek.

He was surprised to see Vaughn, sitting by himself at the end of the bar. It was dark outside and dim in the Duck but the man had his sunglasses on, a plastic cup of water sitting on the bar in front of him. He didn’t move a muscle as Oscar sat in the stool next to him. They were both silent while the bar carried on around them, then Vaughn opened his mouth.

“I’m headed off tomorrow,” he said. “I don’t like leaving unfinished business but time’s run out, so-”

He sipped his water and turned his head towards Oscar.

“You’ll probably end up having to look for that money yourself,” Vaughn muttered. “As much as the old man may say the money wasn’t the issue he’s still going to have someone looking for it.”

Vaughn’s tone was regretful and Oscar realized he was getting what amounted to an apology.

“I wouldn’t even bring it up,” Vaughn continued. “But frankly, it’s bugging me. Why didn’t that piece of shit just tell us where it was? I’ve seen a lot of tough bastards hold things back no matter what; a few cigarettes on their chest, a pick in the balls. But once you’ve got them out there and they see where they’re going to be spending eternity then they usually give you what you want before you do them anyway.”

Oscar glanced back at Bobby and saw him opening the door to the passage, allowing Pat into the bar who made his way over to the two men.

“Charlie’s ready for you,” Pat said to Oscar.

“Is Leo here yet?” Vaughn asked .

“Not yet. He should be soon.”

Oscar followed Pat towards the passage downstairs and found Vaughn following behind them as well. Pat noticed too and hesitated at the door way. He made a long glance back which Vaughn ignored and Pat had no choice but to continue down the stairs with both men following.

Pat knocked on the door to the office and this time the locks popped and the door swung open. All three entered and found Yellow and White Charlie counting cash at the old beat up table. Dick was leaned back in a chair near the corner, watching with a cigarette dangling from his lips. Oscar placed his four envelopes down next to Dick and the other man glanced at them absently, then picked them up in his hand, testing their weight.

“A little on the light side, in’ it?” Dick grunted up at him.

Oscar shrugged his shoulders and stood against the wall. Dick took a quick glance at Vaughn and then brought his gaze back to Oscar.

“You hear me boyo? This drop is light. The lightest we’ve had tonight.”

Dick kept his mean blue eyes on him while Oscar stared back, no reaction.

“You gotta make sure there’s nobody holding out you know?”

Oscar had expected Dick to challenge him at some point. He knew the man was seething after being left out of the business with the rat, the ugly Mick had hinted at it with mutters and a condescending tone when he had the rare chance to address Oscar directly. Not that it phased Oscar. Dick could make comments and stare from across the room, it didn’t matter.

           “What do you mean by that?”
           Dick swung his head towards Vaughn, surprised the man had spoken. Both Charlie’s eyed him momentarily before going back to counting, trying to keep the numbers straight in their heads. Dick let the envelope drop onto the table.
           “I mean the drop’s light. What do you think I mean?” he said.
           “The way you’re saying it. With the tone. You accusing somebody of something?”

“There’s no tone friend. I’m just saying it.”

“So it’s supposed to be funny?”

Vaughn was looking at Dick with both arms stiff at his side. The Irishman was glaring back, his lips clenched into half a grin, the cigarette sticking out.

“If it was supposed to be funny then I don’t get it,” Vaughn said.

Dick stood up from his chair, the cigarette dropped to the floor and spread sparks.

“Now watch’a yourself there partner. I don’t take kindly to an outsider coming in my place of business and telling me the what’s what,” he said.

“If you don’t sit back down I’m going to bash in that thick fucking skull of yours,” Vaughn said.

“Who the fuck do you think you are eh?”

Both counters had stopped. White Charlie held up a pale wrinkled hand in protest.

“Take it easy Dickey,” the old man said.

“Take it easy?” Dick cried out “This is our place. This man needs to start showing us some God damned respect!”

Oscar saw the solemn grin appear on Vaughn’s face, and he knew the inevitable moment had arrived where someone would get hurt. He knew it was going to be Dick. He almost pitied the poor bastard.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

Leo stood in the doorway in his suit and tie. His face was cold, the thick white eyebrows stiff above his eyes. He took a few measured steps into the room and his eyes dug into each man individually before letting them linger on Vaughn. The other man didn’t notice, his murderous gaze was still locked on the Irishman.

“Dick, get up to three and check on the game. See if those guys from the union want some girls to come by.”

Dick blew a gust of breath out of his nostrils like a bull ready to charge, then spun on his heel and exited the room. He slammed the door behind him.

“What are you doing here?” Leo asked Vaughn cautiously. “I told you I would have the kid bring your package over.”

“I figured I would save you a trip,” Vaughn said.

White Charlie slapped a stack of cash on the table and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He had lost count.

“We’ll get it together now,” Leo said. “Oscar, why don’t you get our friend a drink upstairs. Somebody will bring his package up shortly.”

Oscar headed for the door then paused, giving Vaughn time to follow. The other man took his time, flattening out the lapels of his sports coat with his palms and slowly making his way around the table before following through the door and up the passageway.

****

Judy came out of the dressing room with her track suit on, her coat and purse hanging over her arm. She sat down at the bar and waited for Sandra to finish with a customer. She watched Sandra talk to the man, lightly flirting, finding out what he wanted, how many, how did he want them. Judy looked at Sandra’s make up and her big hair, it make her think of her own mother; Debra July still tending bar Friday nights at the old biker dive down the street from her cabin, dragging men home that would sleep in her bed and sit around the house drinking beer for days at a time.

The man at the bar stepped away with his drink and Judy quickly took his place in front of Sandra.

“Do you know if Leo’s in the office?” she asked.

Sandra squinted at her with that look that made her feel stupid.

“Honey, I have barely seen him since he got back. If you're trying to get back to the Nip forget it. That boat has sailed. They got a full rotation going over there just like everywhere else.”

Sandra walked away and Judy eyed the office door. She felt like there was something everybody knew except her, a collective secret that everyone around her was hinting at but refused to say outright. She had to get out of that place, the thing that was growing inside her demanded it. She had been dancing since she was sixteen, she knew it was no big deal, but the baby might not understand that especially when the other kids began to say things on the playground about her that the kid wouldn’t be able to defend. Children were cruel, all of them pretty much, but not this kid, this kid had a chance to be better.

She kept her eyes on the door, convinced that Leo was actually in there, until the door swung open and the big black guy Cabbagpatch swung his huge frame through the door.

“Is Leo in there?” she asked him.

The big man seemed surprised that she had addressed him. He moved the wet toothpick in his mouth from the right corner to the left corner of his lips.

“Naw, he ain’t here. He’ll be at the Christmas party. You working at the Christmas party?” he asked.

Judy touched her purse and thought of the little red one that sat waiting for her somewhere in the vice squad office.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” she said.

Cabbagpatch nodded, making his way passed her, the slow plodding walk of a bear in search of a place to hibernate. Judy sat at the bar and watched Melody get one dollar bills shoved at her by a group of men in a bachelor party. She wasn’t going to be able to wait until the Christmas party to talk to Leo. She had to talk to him sooner than that, right away if possible, by whatever means necessary.

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