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"Dominic?" said Vaughn. "Far as I know. Is he in?"
"No," she said, looking away quickly.
"I'm looking to talk to his friends."
"Buzz and Shorty," she said, with a tinge of contempt. "I told him, stay away from those two."
"They're all together, right?"
Angela Martini nodded. "They went out."
"You wouldn't know where where they went, would you?" they went, would you?"
"No," she said, blinking her eyes heavily. "Dominic said he'd be home for dinner."
"I'm gonna need to get into your garage."
That's where I'll find something, thought Vaughn. That's where greasers like them make their plans.
"What for?"
"There might be something in that garage that will help me with a case I'm working on. It has to do with his friends." Vaughn gave her the most sincere look a guy like him could manage. "Your son's not in trouble yet. But Stewart and Hess might find him some."
She looked back into the house, then back at Vaughn. She rubbed her hands. He knew she had no understanding of search warrants. He knew she didn't care for his "friends." She'd help him if it meant helping her son.
"I'm gonna get the key for you now," she said.
In the garage, Vaughn found a duffel bag holding boxes of shotgun sh.e.l.ls and bricks of ammunition for a .45 and a .38. A half dozen sh.e.l.ls and many of the bullets were missing from the boxes. A set of D.C. license plates that matched the plates registered to the Nova was lying on the workbench as well. Vaughn now surmised that the three men were out on the street, armed, in a car bearing phony plates, and about to commit a robbery.
He came out of the garage, removed his gloves, and thanked Angela Martini, who was standing in the driveway. He told her not to worry, that everything would be all right, her son would be fine. He said he would only be a moment longer here, and that she should go back into her house.
When she did, Vaughn radioed in an all-points bulletin on Dominic Martini's Nova, plate number unknown, along with an armed-and-dangerous description of Martini, Stewart, and Hess. He cradled the mic in his unmarked and walked back to the squad car.
"You guys sit tight and keep an eye on these vehicles," said Vaughn to Officer Mark White.
"You leavin'?" said White.
"Gonna cruise around some," said Vaughn. "See if I run into the owners of these cars."
DEREK STRANGE AND Troy Peters came out of the precinct house on Nicholson in uniform and picked car number 63 for their s.h.i.+ft. They pulled out of the station's horseshoe-shaped driveway, going by Vaughn's Polara, parked in a patch of dirt. Troy Peters came out of the precinct house on Nicholson in uniform and picked car number 63 for their s.h.i.+ft. They pulled out of the station's horseshoe-shaped driveway, going by Vaughn's Polara, parked in a patch of dirt.
Peters went up 13th, pa.s.sing Fort Stevens, and at the Piney Branch-Georgia intersection turned right, circling the Esso and American stations there. They were working the APB. Strange had recognized Martini's name and told Peters to drive by the station.
"Nothin'," said Peters. "You know one of those guys, right?"
"Same one I was telling you about the other day," said Strange. "We saw him arguing with that big man, right there by the pumps."
"Report said they're wanted on a hit-and-run homicide. Think he's right for that?"
"I don't know. I don't know anything about him anymore. I didn't really know him then."
"I'm gonna cruise up to the District line," said Peters. "We'll turn around up there and do the north-south run."
Peters kicked it coming out of the turn at Tuckerman. They went along past the Polar Bears ice cream and the Hubbard House. Strange could almost taste the sugar in the layered chocolate pie, see his father carrying that white box across the street, late on Sat.u.r.days, when they'd bring it home together to share with his mother and Dennis.
"You okay?" said Peters.
"Just thinking on something is all."
"I mean your hand."
Strange looked at his right hand, resting on his thigh. His knuckles, pink against his dark brown skin, were still showing a little blood. He'd cleaned the sc.r.a.pe but not covered it, not wanting to bring attention to the injury, not wanting anyone to tell him he couldn't work. He needed to go to work.
"I punched a wall," said Strange.
Peters looked him over. "It's gonna be rough for a while."
"Feels like it's always always gonna be." gonna be."
"Anything on the investigation?"
"No."
Up past Aspen Street, they went by the Walter Reed Army Medical Center, and then a mix of low-rise commercial and residential structures. Peters accelerated as the squad car hit a long grade.
"I talked to your mother yesterday," said Peters, side-glancing Strange. "Nice woman."
"None better."
"I mentioned her job in the dentist's office."
"That right."
"She didn't know what I was talking about. Told me she'd been working as a domestic most of her adult life."
"You got me, Troy," said Strange unemotionally. "You caught me in a lie."
"Question is, why'd you feel like you had to tell me that story?"
"I wasn't ashamed of my mother, if that's what you think. I'm proud of her, understand?"
"What, then?"
"It was all about me. Me, with nothin' in my background but a high school degree, riding with a Peace Corps and Princeton man. By elevating her, I was trying to elevate myself. Once I told it that way, it was too late to tell it true."
"I ever try and make you feel small?"
"You never did."
"Where you think I come from, Derek?"
"Money, I expect."
"You mean you a.s.sumed."
"That's right."
"I come from dirt. That's all I'm gonna say, because you don't want to hear it. But to have a family like yours . . . Look, I was envious of you. Didn't matter to me what your parents did for a living. Point is, they were there for you. Not like mine."
"I didn't know."
"You never asked me," said Peters. "You weren't interested."
Strange didn't offer any kind of reb.u.t.tal, because Troy was right. When he looked at Peters, he saw a white man first and a man second. As far as getting underneath the surface of his partner and looking at his heart, Strange had not been interested. Knowing all the while it was the same way many white men looked at him.
"I apologize," said Strange.
"Forget it," said Peters.
Strange and Peters relaxed their shoulders and said nothing further. The silence was not uncomfortable.
A quarter mile ahead, on the left, stood the Morris Miller's liquor store. On the right sat a shopping center, bookended by an A&P supermarket on one end and, on the other, the Capitol Savings and Loan.
TWENTY-EIGHT.
WAIT FOR A spot out front," said Stewart. "There," said Hess from the backseat. "Money says the old lady's gonna get in that Buick." spot out front," said Stewart. "There," said Hess from the backseat. "Money says the old lady's gonna get in that Buick."
"That ain't no surprise," said Stewart. "She pulls away, back this race car in, Dom."
"Right," said Martini, his lifeless eyes tracking the elderly woman emerging from the bank and walking to her Skylark, parked in a s.p.a.ce out front.
They were in the idling Nova, fitted in a slot at the far corner of the A&P portion of the lot. The center was only half filled with cars, as this was the time of day during which mothers were typically home awaiting the arrival of their children from school. A woman got out of her station wagon with her toddler, found a shopping cart that had been abandoned, and pushed it with one hand toward the supermarket, her left hand pulling on her child's sweater. A man with a flattop haircut carried paper bags from the market to his Olds, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips.
Buzz Stewart and Walter Hess wore their raincoats over blue jeans, d.i.c.kie work s.h.i.+rts, and black bomber-style boots. Their stocking masks and gloves sat in their laps. Both had loaded and holstered their weapons. Additonal loose shotgun sh.e.l.ls and revolver rounds sat in the side pockets of their raincoats. Martini's .45 rested on the bucket between his legs, steel grip out, the barrel pressing against his genitals.
Hess found a Black Beauty among the bullets in his pocket and pulled it free. Hunched in the backseat, he drew one of his .38s and ground its b.u.t.t into the pill, which he held in the palm of his callused hand. The pill broke into bits and dust. Hess reholstered his gun, leaned forward, put his face into his palm, and snorted the amphetamine.
"f.u.c.k, yeah," said Hess, throwing back his head, feeling the burn in his nasal pa.s.sages and a bright burst behind his eyes. yeah," said Hess, throwing back his head, feeling the burn in his nasal pa.s.sages and a bright burst behind his eyes.
"Go on, Dom," said Stewart. "Take the s.p.a.ce."
As the Buick Skylark pulled out of the lot, Martini put the Hurst in gear and motored slowly past the s.p.a.ce, getting reverse and backing in cleanly between a Satellite and a Bel Air. Looking over his shoulder to navigate, Martini saw Hess, amped on speed, his jittery, piggish eyes pinballing in their sockets. Behind the Nova was the sidewalk, and then the plate-gla.s.s window of the bank atop a three-foot marble base.
"You ready, Shorty?" said Stewart, his face colored by a head rush of blood.
"Born ready, dad. We gon' get it all. all."
"Look at me, Dom," said Stewart. "Look at me." at me."
Martini turned his head and stared into Stewart's eyes.
"You're gonna wait for us," said Stewart. "You keep it runnin' and wait. We won't be but five. When we come back, you make it scream. Head south and work the side streets back to your alley. This ain't nothin' but a cakewalk, I s.h.i.+t you not."
"I'll be here," said Martini.
I've been headed here all my life.
Stewart and Hess fitted the stocking masks on their heads and pulled them down over their faces. They put on their gloves. Stewart, his features mutilated by the mask, his lips fishlike against it, made eye contact with Hess and nodded one time. He got out of the car first, then waited for Hess to push the front seat forward and climb out. Stewart shut the door. Martini looked in the sideview and watched them cross the asphalt and white concrete. Stewart opened the door to the bank and let Hess pa.s.s. Stewart drew the cut-down from the harness beneath his raincoat as he followed Hess inside. The door closed quietly behind them. Then there was only the sputtering of the Nova's 350 rumbling beneath the hood.
Martini's eyes stayed on the mirror, not looking ahead, not seeing MPD squad car number 63 as it slowly pa.s.sed on Georgia Avenue.
VAUGHN FLIPPED OPEN his Zippo, lit a cigarette, and snapped the lid shut. He rested his elbow on the lip of the driver's window as he smoked, one meaty hand atop the wheel. He went down Georgia to the business district around Sheridan, checking out the sidewalk in front of Victor Liquors, Vince's Agnes Flower Shop, John's Lunch, the Chinese laundry, and, on the corner, the 6200 tavern. He kept going and cruised slowly by Lou's, where men who looked liked Martini, Stewart, and Hess drank, smoked, and shot pool. He saw no trace of a black Nova curbed along the Avenue or on the immediate side streets. He continued down Georgia, knowing in his gut as he saw the dark faces of the residents here that he was getting cold. These were men who had run down a man who had done them no wrong, and that made them cowards. They would never try to pull a job in the colored part of town. his Zippo, lit a cigarette, and snapped the lid shut. He rested his elbow on the lip of the driver's window as he smoked, one meaty hand atop the wheel. He went down Georgia to the business district around Sheridan, checking out the sidewalk in front of Victor Liquors, Vince's Agnes Flower Shop, John's Lunch, the Chinese laundry, and, on the corner, the 6200 tavern. He kept going and cruised slowly by Lou's, where men who looked liked Martini, Stewart, and Hess drank, smoked, and shot pool. He saw no trace of a black Nova curbed along the Avenue or on the immediate side streets. He continued down Georgia, knowing in his gut as he saw the dark faces of the residents here that he was getting cold. These were men who had run down a man who had done them no wrong, and that made them cowards. They would never try to pull a job in the colored part of town.
He was turning the unmarked in the middle of the street when the 211 came over the radio, describing a robbery in progress at the Capitol Savings and Loan, up near the District line.
Vaughn grabbed the portable magnetic beacon light sitting on the pa.s.senger floorboard beside him. He put the cherry out the window and onto the roof, its power wire lying across his lap. He hit the siren and light switches on the console before him. He pegged the gas. The Ford lifted from the power surge. It fishtailed on the lane change as Vaughn swerved to avoid hitting a D.C. Transit bus.
STRANGE, ON THE shotgun side of the squad car, was the first to spot the black Nova in a s.p.a.ce out front of the Capitol Savings and Loan. Exhaust drifted up over its trunk line. shotgun side of the squad car, was the first to spot the black Nova in a s.p.a.ce out front of the Capitol Savings and Loan. Exhaust drifted up over its trunk line.
"Slow down a little, Troy," said Strange.
"What's up?"
"Just slow it down."
Strange had learned from the bulletin that the plates were stolen and their numbers unknown. But he could make out the full head of wavy black hair on the man behind the Nova's wheel.
"Pull over," said Strange. "We got a hit on that all-points."
They were on Georgia, well past the bank now, directly in front of the A&P.
Troy took the Ford over to the curb as Strange radioed in the sighting. He was instructed by the voice on the other end to wait for backup. He ten-foured the desk man and cradled the mic.
Peters looked over his shoulder at the Nova and the bank. He looked at Strange.
"What now?" said Strange.
"You heard the man," said Peters. "Won't be but a minute or two before backup comes."
Peters pulled his service revolver from the swivel holster of his gun belt, freed the cylinder, checked the load, and snapped the cylinder back in place. Strange did the same. He opened his dump pouch and checked it for backup rounds as well. Both had done this before leaving the station. Their nerves told them to do it again.
They heard the siren of a car approaching from the south.