Dirty Work, Part 1, page 20
Nana’s mouth dropped open in complete shock.
Kid had one last trick up his sleeve. He lunged for Nana, and there was a minor tussle, but he soon overpowered her with a gut punch then wrapped his hands around her neck. He slammed her against the bed and straddled her. He wanted to choke her to death, but he couldn’t. He had to do it the right way.
“Sick, my ass!” he said. “You got more strength than a farm mule.”
Quickly, he stuck Nana in the back of her neck with a cyanide-loaded syringe. The lethal dose of cyanide started to work in seconds. He stood back and watched the poison do its job. She began to gasp for breath before passing out and suffering cardiac arrest.
Finally, the old bitch was dead, and he felt no remorse.
He wiped away his fingerprints from what he touched, placed the body to make her death look natural, and then sat back in his wheelchair. He rolled out of her apartment feeling he had done everyone a huge justice. He exited the building calmly and had help getting into the van. He felt good.
Kid puffed out with a proud grin and said to Maniac, “Let’s get the fuck outta here.”
When Kid, as next of kin, was contacted about her death, he refused to pay for her funeral. In people’s eyes, it wasn’t odd, because he was broke, crippled, and still grieving for his brother.
In the end, Nana’s small church raised the money to bury her. Kid didn’t bother to show up to her funeral. He wanted her to rot in hell.
***
Kid found it suspicious and disrespectful that Jessica didn’t show up to his brother’s funeral. Despite Jessica’s sudden conflict with Eshon and Brandy, she should have been there. He felt something was odd and wrong, and he planned on getting to the bottom of things.
When he tried to talk to Eshon about Jessica, Eshon was useless, still distraught over Kip’s death.
So he went to Brandy and asked questions. Who was this man she was seeing? Where did they meet? Had they ever seen a glimpse of him?
Brandy didn’t know the man’s name, had never seen his face, and didn’t know what his occupation was. The only thing she could tell him was that he had money, and plenty of it, because Jessica had upgraded her wardrobe to Fendi, Prada, and Chanel, she wore expensive jewelry, and she had lots of spending money, sometimes in the thousands.
Kid came to the conclusion that Jessica was trying to hide her man. But why? Who was he?
***
One late night Kid sat parked in a burgundy Honda Odyssey outside Jessica’s building and watched the front lobby. He’d changed vehicles because Kip’s van was marked and too familiar with people.
As he loitered near the projects, he felt a bit nostalgic but shook off the feeling. This wasn’t back in the day. Everything had changed, including him.
Two hours passed, and still no Jessica. Kid sent up a scout to her apartment, a young girl, and had her knock on the door for a hundred dollars. Soon after, she came back to the van.
“Is she in there?”
“No,” the girl said.
He nodded. He thanked her, and she left. He started the vehicle and left.
***
Two days later, Kid was back with Maniac, parked by Jessica’s building with a clear view of the lobby. He watched everyone coming and going with binoculars. His instincts told him to keep an eye on her and identify the mysterious man that had all of her time and interest.
Tonight, he got lucky. Jessica exited the lobby looking well-dressed and too sexy. She walked toward the Old Broadway.
He was on her, stalking her closely, and he soon observed her climbing into the back seat of an idling Escalade with tinted windows.
Kid had no idea who was inside the vehicle. When it drove off, he followed.
He followed them for over twenty miles into New Jersey, until the Escalade came to a stop at a towering condo in Edgewater, New Jersey.
Jessica got out of the SUV and went into the building, presumably to meet her man inside.
Like a detective, Kid had Maniac take pictures of the vehicle, the plate number, the building, and many of Jessica’s coming and goings.
For a week, he followed her, until he finally got what he was looking for—a look at the man she had been secretly meeting with—the man she was fucking. Kid had his cronies everywhere, making Jessica his primary objective. He saw her meet with Maserati Meek at the condo. Jessica hugged him and kissed him and appeared to be in love with him.
Seeing this, Kid flew in a rage. He had to control his impulse because he wanted to kill her right there. He didn’t know which hurt more, Jessica being with another guy and never giving him a second look, or the other guy being the man who had killed his brother.
He took pictures of them together on his phone, kissing and hugging. The smile on her face was genuine, and Jessica appeared to be very happy. Maserati Meek would openly grope her in public. Kid couldn’t help but feel jealous. So many nights he had dreamed of physically wanting her, and she was sleeping with the enemy. He was going to bring their sexual relationship to an abrupt stop.
He had figured out their routine: She would leave her building and get into a car, usually at night. An escort would drive her to a location to meet with Meek, and the location would vary. One week it was in New Jersey, then Long Island or a place in Queens.
Kid was ready to implement his plan. It was time to make his move on the board. Jessica had no idea that the hammer was about to land down on her hard. Kid was angry with her. She was a traitor, and usually traitors received the death sentence, but for now, he would spare her life.
***
Friday night in Harlem the streets were flooded with people enjoying the night and starting their weekend with a bang. Three days from the Fourth of July, fireworks were going off repeatedly around the projects with ball rockets, blockbusters, whistlers, and firecrackers. The skies lit up with an explosion and a colorful display.
Kid Kane and Devon sat in the dark minivan with tinted windows and waited in the Manhattanville projects. There would be no barbecues or cookouts for them, no enjoying fireworks, or mingling with people. They had a purpose tonight. Kid never got out the car. He had to continue his ruse of being disabled. Devon would be his legs on this mission.
After an hour of waiting, their target finally arrived. The Escalade came to a stop not too far from where they were parked.
Kid and Devon stayed hidden in the shadows of their vehicle and watched everything. The door to the SUV swung open, and Jessica climbed out of the vehicle. She stood upright, looking spectacular in a dress and a pair of wedges. She was dressed for the summer, legs showing, long hair flowing.
Kid fixed his eyes on her and watched her walk to her building. She had just come home from one of her secret excursions with Meek. She looked happy. Kid didn’t want her to be happy. He wanted her to feel pain for sleeping with the enemy.
The Escalade drove off.
Kid said to Devon, “You know what to do.”
Devon grinned. He removed himself from the minivan with his gun in hand. He approached Jessica with urgency. Before she could reach the building lobby, he called out, “Yo, Jessica!”
She turned, shocked to see Devon. Halfheartedly, she replied, “Hey, what’s up, Devon?”
“Yo, let me holla at you fo’ a minute, ma,” he said.
“About what, homes?” she asked, already looking defensive.
“Just to talk. We missed you at the funeral.”
“I’ve been busy, nigga.”
“Yeah, we know, but check this, I ain’t asking.” He thrust the gun into her side. “We gonna go for a walk and talk, ma, or you know me, bitch—I’ll blow your side out right now and won’t give a fuck.” He pushed her forward, toward the van.
Jessica frowned. She knew he was serious. She had no choice but to go with him. “Did that fuckin’ bitch put you up to this?”
Devon didn’t answer.
“Kip was her man, not mine.”
Their conflict wasn’t Devon’s concern. He was doing what he was told. But he was furious too that she had been fucking around with Maserati Meek. He felt that she needed to die because of that alone. He continued to coerce her at gunpoint toward the minivan. The side door slid open, and he forcibly pushed her onto the back and closed the door.
Jessica scowled when she saw Kid in the front seat. “Kid, what the fuck is wrong with you, homes? Huh, muthafucka? You lost your mind? This is kidnapping. You think my peoples ain’t gonna be lookin’ for me?”
“We just need to talk,” he said coolly.
“Cabrón, we don’t have shit to talk about!”
Kid answered, “Yes, we do.”
Devon climbed behind the wheel and drove off.
Jessica shouted and cursed at them. She still felt this had something to do with Eshon, but she had no idea.
Thirty-Six
Parked in the parking lot of the Extended Stay hotel, Devon got out of the minivan and opened the side door. He dragged Jessica out of the car. She tried to resist, but a gun in her face made her realize it was wise to do what he said. She stood with Devon’s gun painfully in her side.
She looked around and found that she was in unfamiliar territory. The hour was late, the place quiet, and it was in the cut.
Kid was still in the front seat. The passenger door opened.
Devon grinned. Jessica had no idea she was about to witness a miracle take place.
Kid turned, and he took his time stepping out of the van, subsequently walking her way with a smirk on his face.
Jessica looked like she had seen a ghost, her mouth gaped open, her eyes wide with bewilderment. “You can walk?”
“I can do a lot of things, sweetheart. Just wait and see.”
Consumed by fear, Jessica was about to lose control of her own legs.
Devon grabbed her arm tightly and led her to the hotel, guided her into the room on the first floor. Inside looked like an all-in-one armory and electronic store, with guns everywhere, along with computers, cameras, and surveillance equipment.
“Devon, leave me alone with her for a moment,” Kid said.
Devon nodded. He stepped out of the room and closed the door.
“How are you walking?” Jessica asked.
“I’m a miracle. You don’t believe in miracles?”
She barked out, “Why am I here?”
“Like I said, to talk. But first things first.”
“What?”
“How long you been fuckin’ Meek?”
“What? Homes, you can’t be serious.”
“You think I’m joking with you, Jessica? Answer me!”
Jessica looked blank, shocked that he knew. She had no response.
“Now this is how it’s going to go—If you want to live, bitch, then you’ll answer all my questions. Did you have anything to do with Kip’s murder! Did you know it was going down?”
She stood there for a moment, defiant. “Fuck you!” Jessica spat in his face, incensed.
He didn’t respond. His first intention was to kill her, but his heart wouldn’t allow it. She had always been his dream girl. He had dreamt about her plenty of nights. What he wanted was intimacy with her, but she was pushing his limits. Evidently, she wanted to die today. Kid wiped the gooey liquid from his face and contained his rage. Jessica was a disrespectful bitch.
Her eyes glared with hatred.
He stepped closer to her and said, “I want you to tell me everything I need to know about Maserati Meek.”
“You want me to betray the man I love?”
“Love—That’s cute, Jessica. We all know the only thing you love is money.”
“I do. So what’s in it for me? My services aren’t for free.”
“Besides keeping your life?”
Kid had to respect her game. He wanted to buy her loyalty, but it was only a word to Jessica. The only thing she was loyal to was the highest bidder.
He went into the duffel bag of cash and tossed her ten thousand dollars. “That’s a start,” he said.
She didn’t hesitate to take the money. “A start for what?”
“I want you to work for me, as my snitch.”
“Are you serious?”
“Does it look like I’m playing?” he returned seriously.
“Doing what?”
“Don’t worry, there’s something in it for you. I want you to tell me everything about Maserati Meek. I want to know his locations, his businesses, his trap houses, his comings and goings, his peoples. And for every spot we hit, I’ll hit you off with enough cash. You’ve been with the man for two months now, so I know you know something.”
“You gonna kill him?” she asked.
“Nah, I don’t wanna kill him, I just want to get rich off of him.”
Jessica had money on her mind and her own personal agenda. She nodded. “I’ll do it.”
Kid smiled. It’s what he expected to hear from her. Her greed was her core. She had to look out for herself. Maserati Meek took care of her, but she learned never to put all her eggs in one basket. He was at war, and anything tragic could happen.
Kid stood over her and grabbed her chin with his fingers. He held her face sternly in his hand and looked at her intently. “Listen, you fuck with me on this, and I’ll make you feel more hell than you ever felt before. I’m full of surprises, Jessica. Think about it—You thought I couldn’t walk, but I can, so imagine what other tricks I have up my sleeve if you cross me, bitch.” He released her and then said, “Now get the fuck out.”
Thirty-Seven
A white cargo van came to a stop at a red light on Atlantic Avenue and Logan Street in Brooklyn on a calm night. The driver sat smoking his Newport and waiting for the green. He drove conservatively, not wanting to attract attention, especially from the police. He was carrying over fifty kilos of cocaine in the back, smuggled in oil drums. The last thing he needed was an incident, or to have to explain himself to Maserati Meek. The driver’s head swiveled left and right, both directions cool and no threat. He had ten miles to go until he reached one of Meek’s stash houses with his product.
A panhandler made his way toward the van. His clothes were funky, and his dreads looked like they were filled with lice. “Change, change, spare change, please. All I need is some change,” he chanted, carrying a cracked coffee mug. He tapped on the window.
The driver yelled, “Yo, get the fuck away from the van, you bum!”
“Sir, change, change, any spare change, please. All I need is some change.”
The driver was losing his patience. He had a load of product to transfer, and it felt like it was taking a lifetime for the red light to change.
While distracted by the panhandler, the bigger threat came from his left with a .50-caliber Desert Eagle.
The window smashed, startling the driver, and when he spun around, the gunman fired two bullets into his head.
The panhandler acted quickly, opening the door, removing the body from the vehicle, dumping him on the street and taking his place behind the wheel. The shooter hurried into the passenger seat, and the van sped away with fifty kilos belonging to Maserati Meek.
***
The house on Grand Avenue in Rockville Centre, Long Island was a quaint, three-bedroom with a two-car garage, manicured lawn, trimmed trees in the front yard, and a porch. The neighborhood resembled Mayberry. The tree-lined streets and affluent homes were a far cry from the projects, but tonight they were about to get a taste of the urban violence.
The three-bedroom home on Grand Avenue was a front; it was one of Maserati Meek’s largest stash houses hidden in the outer reaches of a violent society. Here, Meek kept things simple: two people coming and going from the place, a man and a woman who pretended to be married to throw off nosy neighbors and law enforcement but were, in fact, trusted handlers of Meek’s product and his money. They drove minivans and SUVs with secret compartments. The garage was attached to the house, giving them privacy when loading and unloading drugs and cash. The house had surveillance and an alarm, and a small arsenal.
Few people knew about the place in Rockville Centre. The man was in his mid-thirties, the woman in her early thirties, and they both played their parts well.
***
At eleven p.m., a black Dodge Caliber with slight tints came to a stop in front of the house. The occupants inside the car gazed at the location with a violent plot to wreak havoc on Meek’s organization. For these three men, it was going to be fun. The inside information they were receiving was paying off. They cocked back their pistols and sawed-off shotgun and readied themselves for violence.
Devon took a pull from his cigarette and doused it in the ashtray. He didn’t want to risk leaving any DNA behind.
Maniac sat in the backseat with the sawed-off shotgun.
Papa John glanced at the time. “Y’all niggas ready?”
They nodded.
Since Kip’s death, these men had been personally at war with Meek. There was no limits, no escape, and they were yearning to destroy everything he had built. With Kid as the brains, they had been many steps ahead of their enemy.
Jessica was helpful with information, along with subtle surveillance of Meek’s peoples, and there was help from a city cop Kid had blackmailed. Officer Melton had a gambling problem and a desire for prostitutes. He owed a dangerous man thirty thousand dollars. Kid paid off his debts, and now the cop was indebted to him. To pay off his debts, Officer Melton had to provide Kid with information that wasn’t easy to attain.
Kid Kane was building his empire slowly but surely. With what he had accomplished in weeks, it was easy to say who the smarter brother in the streets was.
All three men donned black masks, climbed out of the Caliber, and approached the house heavily armed. They lit two Molotov cocktails and sent them crashing through the front windows of the house. Immediately flames burst open, engulfing the house rapidly, and soon two figures came flying out the front door coughing and scurrying for safety.
Once they had sight of the man and woman, they opened fire.
