Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #1: Books 1-4 (A Dead Cold Box Set) Blake Banner (love books to read .TXT) đ
- Author: Blake Banner
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âHeâs nervous. What about Carlitos?â
âHeâll crack in the next half hour. Letâs put some pressure on him. Give me five minutes. Then come in and ask if I can help you take a statement.â
She smiled and I went back in. I sat opposite him.
âItâs hard to get a lawyer at this time of the morning. You should do your drug deals at a more sociable hour.â He didnât answer. After a while I asked him, âWere you wearing gloves when you handled those packages? Itâs good stuffâgasoline!â I drummed the table. âYour pal wasnât well up on the law. He thought he was going down for two to five. When my partner explained that with his record of violence he was looking at anything from eight to thirty, I tell you, he turned a whiter shade of pale. But you, youâve managed to avoid arrest till now. Youâre a smart cookie, right? So youâre looking at what, eight, with good behavior out in two or three yearsâŠâ
The door opened and I turned to look at Dehan. She said, âBoss, can you help take a statement?â
Carlitos said, âThis is bullshitâŠâ
Outside, Dehan said, âI think we got them. Chemaâs sweating so hard heâs going to dehydrate.â
âOkay. Give them fifteen to sweat, and then weâll hit them with the homicide. You want a coffee?â
She followed me to the machine, and I got two espressos. We held each otherâs eye for a long moment while we sipped. I said, âWhat if it wasnât him?â
She shook her head.
Fifteen minutes later, I went back in. Carlitos looked pale and sick.
âWhereâs my fockinâ lawyer, man?â
I looked real serious and sat down. I gave him a moment to assimilate that my expression was telling him something bad. He said, âWhat the fuck, man?â
âCarlos, did you know Nelson Hernandez?â
He stared at me. âI want my fockinâ lawyer!â
I watched him. âI have to tell you that we have received information that places you at the scene of his murder, and that of Dickson Rodriguez, Evandro Perez, JosĂ© Perez, and Geronimo Peralta.â I shook my head. âQuintuple, premeditated homicide plus castration and decapitation. Carlos, you go down for this, you are never coming up again.â
âWhat the fuck are you talking about?â
âI canât talk to you unless you sign a waiver, but from what I hear, ChemaâŠâ
âWhat is he saying? What is that mother tellinâ you?â
âWell, I hope heâs telling us the truth. And I hope your lawyer is worth waiting for.â
Dehan opened the door and said, âItâs ready.â
I stood, and Carlitos said, âWait!â
I said to Dehan, âCome on in.â
I pulled the waiver from my inside pocket and put it in front of him. He read it and signed it. As he wrote, he was shaking his head.
âOkay, I hold my hands up to the deal, man. Iâm gonna cooperate and tell you what you want to know. But I did not have nothinâ to do with Nelsonâs death.â
Dehan sat down. âBullshit.â
âSheâs the bad cop,â I said.
He looked at her, and you knew that was the way he looked at all women. Then he turned back to me.
âYou want to know who killed Nelson and his motherfockinâ primos? It wasnât me. We was gonna whack him the next fockinâ week. He was goinâ around talkingâ about how he was in with the fockinâ Ăngeles. He married his bitch with a ceremonia del infierno. He was challenging the Chinese, the Mob, makinâ a fockinâ war, tellinâ everybody we was gonna back him up. Su puta madre! His fockinâ mother was gonna back him up!â
Dehan said, âSo you killed him.â
âYou ainât fockinâ listening, bitch!â
I said, âWatch your mouth.â
âIâm tellinâ you. We was gonna whack him the next week. Somebody got to him first. Saved us the trouble. Chavez was sending a pro from Mexico. He was gonna do the job clean, go back home, no problem.â
I shook my head. âThatâs not what Chema is telling us.â It was true. Chema wasnât telling us a goddamn thing. Carlitos threw his hands in the air. âThen he is fockinâ lying, man! Let me ask you a question. How much money went missing from Nelsonâs place, huh?â I watched him, but I didnât say anything. He went on, âIs okay, you donât gotta answer. Now let me ask you another question. How much coke, H, and dope was left behind, huh? You think, in my hood, Iâm gonna shoot fuckinâ Nelson and his cousins, and Iâm gonna walk away and leave fifteen Ks of coke and two Ks of heroin and ten Ks of weed so the fockinâ cops can help theirselves to it? You think Iâm that fockinâ stupid?â
I sat staring at him for a moment. He knew heâd made his point, and I knew he knew it. It was the same argument Dehan and I had made to ourselves. But I kept repeating Holmesâs principle to myself over and over: âwhen you eliminate the impossible, whatever is left, no matter how improbable, is the truth.â It was improbable, but it was all we had left.
He said, âYou want to know who killed Nelson? Iâll tell you. Mick fockinâ Harragan killed him. And I bet you know that already, but you tryinâ to pin it on me to let your pal off the hook. Nelson had stopped payinâ him. Nelson told him he was washed-up. He told him no more money, no more coke, no more Latina bitches for him. So he killed him, stole the money, tried to frame the Mob and the Chinks, and left town. You know Iâm tellinâ the fockinâ truth, man.â
We left him to stew and went to talk to
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