The Pawnbroker, page 18
“What kind of information?” the lawyer asked, holding her hand up, sensing Ruby was about to speak.
“We need to know everything Ruby can tell us about Eddie Henderson—especially where we might be able to find him. We believe Henderson is a dangerous criminal who’s responsible, directly or indirectly, for the death of the three men whose bodies were placed in her apartment.”
“These victims were friends of Ruby’s. Weren’t they?” Gordon added softly.
Ruby nodded. “I told you that already,” she said, then spoke to her attorney. “I don’t know where he is, really, and I don’t know where he lives, if it’s not over by the zoo. All I have is a phone number. It’s 613-1315.”
Charlie wrote the number down in a small notebook he brought out of his shirt pocket. Judging by her refusal to make eye contact with them, Ruby was probably lying, except maybe for the phone number. But perhaps there was another way.
The lawyer spoke. “You heard my client. She doesn’t know Henderson’s location or current residence. Any more questions?”
“Yes. We need to know the names of some of the WezDawgz we encountered outside the apartments where Ruby works. We’re not cops, so we can’t arrest anyone, but if we can contact some of these young men, even over the phone, maybe they can lead us to Henderson.”
“Ask that sergeant with the gang unit. He might know some names,” the lawyer said.
“We’d rather hear it from Ruby. She knows these young men and has a bigger stake in keeping the rest of them alive. They’re her friends. We’re no danger to them, but clearly Eddie Henderson is.”
“The bastard. The lying, shitty bastard,” Ruby said, her voice raising with every syllable. “If anyone deserves to die…”
“It’s Eddie,” Charlie agreed. “Now, Ruby, who’s the WezDawgz leader, the guy with the light hair?”
“He’s got a limp now,” Gordon added solemnly.
“Oh, that’s Güero,” Ruby said. “That’s what they call him.”
“And his legal name?” Charlie prodded.
“Martin Bateson.”
“Anyone else, in case we can’t get in contact with Güero?” Charlie said.
Ruby looked at her attorney.
The woman shrugged. “Your call.”
“Herman Maestas usually hangs with Güero. Herman’s street name is Bluto,” Ruby said, her voice low and controlled now.
Charlie looked at Gordon, who nodded. “The big guy, right?”
Ruby smiled weakly. “Duh.”
“You don’t have a phone number for either of these gentlemen, do you?” Charlie said, bringing out a small notebook and pen and sliding them across the table.
Ruby looked over at the lawyer again.
“Go ahead. It’ll save some time,” the lawyer said. “My client is cooperating, you can see that,” she said to Charlie.
“Of course,” Charlie said.
“I don’t remember the numbers, but they’re on my cell phone,” Ruby said.
“They took it away from my client, but I have permission to return it to Ruby’s mother. The detectives have already made a copy of the data card,” the woman said, reaching into her purse for the phone. “Give me the names, Ruby, and I’ll read out the numbers for you to write down for these men.”
A minute or two later they were done.
“You might have a hard time finding them right now. They lost three of their friends today,” Ruby said as she slid the notebook and pen back across the table.
Charlie picked up the notebook, looked at the numbers, and saw that she’d included the names as well. “Thanks so much, Ruby. Is there anything else you can tell us about Eddie that might help us find him?” He’d already assumed that “Eddie’s number” would be either fake or an untraceable burn phone. Why would Ruby remember it so easily, but not those of her friends? It didn’t matter anyway, they needed his address.
“He’s not from around here. He came from back east. His favorite football team is the Steelers. Once he bragged that he had season tickets before he moved to Albuquerque. And he had a bounty out for some woman named Ruth, if that means anything to you. Anyone who could find her for him got a new car.”
“Sounds like a deal,” Gordon said, nodding. “Who’s this Ruth anyway? An ex-wife?”
“No idea. I’d hate to be her, though.”
Charlie nodded. “I appreciate the info, maybe it’ll help. Would it be okay if Ruby has you call us if she thinks of anything else?” he asked her lawyer.
“If you mention this to the detectives—and the county attorneys, as evidence of her continued cooperation?”
“Of course we will,” Charlie said.
“Then we’re done,” the woman said, scooting her chair back slightly for emphasis.
Ruby’s eyes began to fill with tears. “Um, guys, thanks for getting me out of there today. And I’m really…”
“Ruby. We’re done. Not another word,” cautioned the attorney.
“I know, sorry. Well, bye, Ruby. No hard feelings.” Gordon stood, reached over, and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.
Charlie stood as well. “Thanks, ma’am,” he said, handing the attorney his business card.
She looked at the card. “Ugh,” she said. “Really?”
He tried not to smile, and failed. “Let’s go,” he said to Gordon, who was still looking at Ruby.
* * *
Ten minutes later, Charlie ended the call he’d just placed to Güero’s cell phone. Gordon was driving, and they were heading west on I-40, the quickest route to Albuquerque’s west side from downtown. Sergeant Olivas had given them Martin Bateson’s current address, but warned them not to expect anyone to be at home.
“Think we’ll get a callback?” Gordon asked.
“You heard Ruby. Güero has probably gone into hiding after losing three of his crew today. At least I was able to leave a message on his cell phone—if he’s still carrying it around,” Charlie said.
Gordo shrugged. “He’s got to know by now that Eddie was the one who finished off his people. Ruby, apparently had already passed along the warning through that attorney of hers. The remaining WezDawgz are scurrying for cover.”
“You think Ruby is really sorry she set us up?” Charlie said.
“Not so much. She’s just come around to thinking that the enemy of her enemy is her friend. Lying bitch. Her alliances change with the wind,” Gordo said.
“But you’d still like to hook up with her?” Charlie said, grinning.
“Yeah, sex maybe. But spend the night? No way I’d ever close my eyes around that girl.”
Charlie’s phone started to ring. “That didn’t take long.” He put the phone on speaker.
“You the Indian?”
Charlie recognized Güero’s voice immediately. “Yeah. Nobody can trust Eddie Henderson anymore, so we’re going to take him down. I need his address.”
“I haven’t got that information anymore, but Eddie had dealings with a crew in the Heights that we respect. The pecker got two of them killed, now three of us. I can give you the number of a person who might help. Kill Eddie, but leave us out of it.”
“Done.”
“His cell number is 505-2859.”
“Got it. Thanks.”
“Get the bastard,” Güero said, ending the call.
Charlie started to dial again.
“The ZanoPaks, maybe?” Gordo asked.
“That would be my guess,” Charlie responded. “Hang on.”
He put the phone on speaker, placing it on the console.
“If you know me, leave a message. If you don’t, then fuck off.” The young man’s voice came through loud and strong.
Charlie looked over at Gordo, who was stifling a laugh.
“Someone said you might know where I can find Eddie Henderson. He’s on my shit list and he’s going down. Call back when you get this.”
“Think you should be making that call? Even though the Zanos opened fire first, you and Nancy put them down,” Gordon pointed out as soon as Charlie put away the phone.
“Yeah, but they were doing Eddie’s dirty work, searching for Baza’s place, and probably Ruth as well. And he put them on my tail.”
“Why would the WezDawgz be on speaking terms with ZanoPak anyway?”
“I guess it helps that the gangs hang out probably ten miles away from each other and don’t claim the same turf. There are Valley gangs between them that are bigger problems,” Charlie said.
“So we’re waiting for another return call—maybe. Wanna get an early dinner?”
Charlie nodded. “Let’s pick up some takeout and eat at the shop. See how Jake and Al are doing. I’ll give him a call and ask what he wants to eat.”
They arrived at Three Balls a half hour later, not long before closing time. First, they’d cruised around the block, looking for anyone who might have them staked out.
They parked on the street, then walked in through the front door.
“Hey, it’s the absentee owners. Thanks for bringing by dinner,” Jake said, looking over from the counter, where he was conducting business with two customers, a man and woman in their early sixties.
“We’ll put yours on the office desk,” Charlie said, looking around the interior. There were two teenage boys at the counter with the video consoles, playing a shooter game that involved zombies, judging from the graphics. The sound was turned way down, but the boys didn’t seem to mind.
Charlie looked up on the wall and noted one of the new video cameras, which was directed on that section of the interior. A green light atop the camera suggested it was on and operating.
“Al got the surveillance up and running,” Gordon said, waving at Jake, who nodded back. “I wonder where the monitors are—our office?”
“Looks like,” Charlie said, leading the way into the hall at the back of the shop. As he walked into the office and set down the food containers, he noted the wall-mounted flat-screen monitor split into four sections, one for each camera.
Gordon followed him in. “Hey, that’s the big monitor from out front—good use for it. Didn’t have to buy a new one. Always happy to save a few hundred.”
“Yeah, and see how every spot is covered—the display area, the storeroom, even the office.” Charlie stared into the camera positioned at the end of the hall. “Damn, I look tired. This day has been long. Too long. I thought being back in the States would make me less of a target.”
“Me too,” Gordon said, pointing up as a reminder someone was probably listening. “But we need to keep up our strength. Let’s eat before these El Gallo’s green-chile burritos get cold.”
Five minutes later, Jake came into the office. “That bag mine?” He pointed toward the unopened bag on the counter beside the computer printer.
“Go for it,” Gordon said, his mouth half full.
Jake opened the bag and looked inside. “So they had chicken burritos? Great. How much do I owe you?” he said, looking from Charlie to Gordon.
“This one’s on me. You’ve been pulling more than your weight around here, bro.” Charlie said. “And it looks like Al did a great job. We’ll have to thank Rick.”
“There’s the damages,” Jake said, pointing to an invoice in a basket on Gordon’s side of the desk. “And he included some extra instructions. You guys will want to read them.”
Charlie looked over and saw photos of the three small devices hooked up next to the light fixtures, one of them just above his desk. He nodded. “We’ve got to pass his name along to our customers.”
“He’s got some good ideas on…,” Jake began, then stopped as they heard the sound of someone coming in the main entrance.
They all looked at the monitor. It was the two boys who’d been playing the video game earlier.
“Guess they rounded up enough money. Gotta go and make sixty bucks for Three Balls,” Jake said with a smile, picking up his bag. “I’ll eat out there and keep the shop covered.”
“Thanks,” Gordon said.
Charlie nodded, taking a bite of burrito. His phone rang and he picked it up. “Personal call, excuse me,” he said, hurrying toward the back door. Gordon nodded.
By the fourth ring Charlie was outside and he took the call.
“You the guy looking for an address?” said the unfamiliar voice.
“Yes?”
“Room 705, the Richards Apartments, north of Lomas.” The line went dead.
Charlie wrote the information down on his pocket notebook, next to the phone numbers Ruby had provided, then went back inside.
He held up the notebook as he came back into the office. “Beth wants me to help her brother move out of her grandfather’s home. I told her to come up with a date and time, then call back.” He showed Gordon the address the ZanoPak caller had given him.
“I can help.”
“Good, I volunteered you,” Charlie said, rolling his eyes.
“Let’s finish dinner, then go see our sick friend first,” Charlie said, shaking his head. “Jake can close up.”
Gordon nodded, pointing to the notebook. “I’m with you.”
Quietly confirming that they had their weapons ready, with spare magazines in their pockets, Charlie and Gordon went out into the display area. “We’re going to visit our friend in the hospital, Jake. Great job today. See you in the morning.”
* * *
They took Charlie’s rental car, so he was driving as they passed by the large apartment complex. The site took up the entire city block, comprising nine separate four-story apartment buildings and several smaller offices and clubhouses.
“I don’t remember ever coming by here,” Charlie said. “For Albuquerque, this is pretty big.”
“Yeah, I was wondering about a seventh-floor apartment anyway. From what I can see, we need to find building seven,” Gordon said, looking at the units as they drove east up Lomas Avenue. “There’s building 700.” He pointed to a brick-facade building on the corner of the third row back. “Wanna circle the block, or come in from this direction?”
“If he’s watching, he’ll see us a lot sooner on the other side. Let’s park down the street, cross Lomas, and come in past the other two rows,” Charlie said.
“How about from the east? From the windows and balconies I think there are six apartments running lengthwise, so if he’s in number five, he’ll be on the ground floor facing south. No east-facing window,” Gordon said.
“Good thinking. And we’ll come in from the north lobby.”
This was the Southwest, where few apartment buildings had security gates or systems where a tenant had to buzz someone in. Charlie thought they could probably get to Eddie’s door without being noticed.
Charlie carried a six-pack of Coors beer and Gordon had a paper grocery bag from a local Smith’s. It contained chips and beer nuts to put any casual observers at ease.
They entered the clean, well-maintained lobby of the building and came to the first of three hall junctions. Looking to the right, they saw a door with the number three on it. To the left was four.
They walked close to the wall now, side by side, and as they passed the first door, the apartment five door suddenly opened. Both reached down for the pistols concealed beneath their jackets.
Chapter Seventeen
A stainless-steel cart full of cleaning supplies appeared, pushed out into the hall by a pleasant looking black-haired woman in blue scrubs.
“Mr. Patterson isn’t at home,” the woman said. She looked to be around forty.
Charlie relaxed slightly, removing his hand from the butt of the pistol just inside his jacket. Just to be safe, he kept the interior of the apartment within his peripheral vision.
“Damn, we were hoping to get little poker game going. Where’s he off to now, back to Pittsburgh?” Charlie said.
“He didn’t say,” the woman said, smiling at Gordon and fiddling with her loosely fitting top. “You just move in?…”
“Doug. I’m Doug, and I’m sure thinking about it, Vivian,” he said, noting her name tag. “Are you available?”
“You mean as a housekeeper?” she said, smiling even wider.
“Of course,” Gordon said, his face turning a little red.
“Oh, you’re blushing, Doug. That’s so cute,” Vivian said. “I have a card here, call me. I can squeeze you in.” She reached into her pocket, brought out a billfold, and handed him a business card. “Make sure you ask for me, Doug.”
“Count on it, Vivian.”
“Well, I’ve got work to do. Sorry Eddie—Mr. Patterson, wasn’t here for your game.”
Vivian shut the door to apartment five, checked the knob to see that it was locked, then smiled again and pushed the cleaning cart toward apartment six.
“Let’s go, Pete, maybe we can get a game going over at Ollie’s,” Gordon said, motioning in the direction they’d come.
“Yeah, Doug, yeah.”
Once outside, they cut across the center of the complex, heading directly for the car.
“What is it with you and women?” Charlie said, wishing he could open one of those lukewarm beers right now. “You’re like a puppy. They all want to hug you and take you home. And how do you manage that embarrassed look? I’ve seen you play that a hundred times.”
“I know you won’t believe this, but every time, I’ve actually been embarrassed. I’ve always had a problem coping with a woman coming on to me.”
“That hasn’t stopped you from climbing into the sack with them nine times out of ten.”
“Hey, sure I get embarrassed, but it’s not like we’re in high school anymore. Now I know what to do and I don’t back down. But what about you? I don’t recall ever seeing you turning red.”
“Harder to spot on a Navajo,” Charlie said as they reached the crosswalk at the end of the block. The light was red, and traffic was always heavy on this street.
“Ah, but you do get stupid. Nancy said your jaw dropped and you almost drooled when you first met Ruth.”
“You ever see a woman and wish you were her type?”
