Nurse Venus

The first thing he did was change all the keys to his encryption, especially the one on his car cellphone. Marvell didn't understand the math, but he knew no encryption couldn't be broken. But if it was broken, someone was probably feeding the codes to someone.

The leak could be from anyone who knew about the hit. that could be anyone in the car when he made the call, or the lawyer who he was calling, or any one from the lawyer to the enforcers who would make the hit.

Acting fast was important--but so was acting smart. Marvell made himself cold, and thought harder about what had happened. The police were tipped . . . but he had been tipped too. Before any of his warnings from cops who were on his payroll, there'd been a call to his own place. Every call there was recorded, of course, and Marvell had the connections to get just about any call traced. It had come from a woman with a scratchy, nasal voice, and it had been placed from Los Angeles. The woman sounded foreign, but Marvell couldn't place the accent.

That call had come in while he was stuck in traffic on the Bay Bridge, no more than half an hour after he had called the lawyer. None of his guards could have made calls. Maybe one of them had a wire . . . but if the cops had gotten that far without his contacts tipping him off, Marvell knew he was finished. He didn't feel like he was finished.

Probably the lawyer. He was a good asset, but he was a family man. He shouldn't have asked the lawyer to take care of the girl and the kid. He'd been fine fixing other problems. The lawyer would have to go away, but that would take some time to do right. It would have to look like an accident, or a random crime. Marvell was smart enough to know that if other lawyers even suspected that he'd killed one of them, he wouldn't be able to get more than a public defender.

But first, Jaleel had to go. It was going to take a big risk, but Jaleel had to go now. The reds would already know about the busted hit on Jaleel. Marvell didn't think they would be able to react for awhile, but that meant a few days, at most. They wouldn't tip off Jaleel if they didn't want to start the war again, and Marvell thought they wouldn't do that unless they were sure they could win. But things could change a lot in a few days.

Maybe there were a few of his men who really thought they were his friend, but Marvell knew he had no friends; the last friends he would ever have were dead. Kev was the only brother he had left, and he should have never got into the business. Dardenella wouldn't speak to him, hadn't since she went off into the Marines. Their mother knew what was what, though Marvell had never let her into the business.

Marvell knew he wasn't immortal. He wasn't going to retire to Florida or Italy or Israel, like those old-time Jewish and Italian gangsters. Not many of them had really done it; but when their time was past, a few of them who didn't matter any more had spent their last few years making up stories. For all the corny movies showing how tough it been for immigrants, they were just more white people. Old white people got to do that.

Not Marvell, or any other real black man. Sports and entertainment were for the ones that turned as white as they could. Marvell's business was the black man's only real way to fuck with the white world. He would die young, but he wouldn't kiss another white ass.

Jaleel, with his white girlfriend that he was talking about marrying . . . was he trying to turn white? Not part of the business at all, but an interesting thought. Maybe that was why the reds didn't trust him. But he had been a good man, for the business. Making his move too soon, maybe, but . . . Jaleel wasn't that much different from Marvell. He had had to take risks to get ahead.

And now Marvell had to take risks to stay on top. Jaleel was proving a more interesting problem than Marvell had had in a long time. Either he would solve it, or he would go out memorably. But Jaleel was going to go, soon, whatever happened. If he escaped, Marvell's rep would be lost. His rep was his real capital; Marvell had understood this part of the business from the first.

Detective John Shaw wondered if the laxative he had slipped his partner would ever kick in, but it started working at the best time: just when the shift change was happening. "Johnny, I just gotta take a crap!"

"All right . . . are you sick?"

"I'll be all right . . . but I really gotta go."

"All right . . . Use the liquor store around that corner. Show them your badge and tell them Shaw sent you. I know them . . . hey," he added, pulling some bills from his pocket. "Get me a hot dog or something. I didn't eat before I came on."

"All right."

Once his partner was gone, he switched the car radio to citizen's band, found a clear channel, and began rapidly pressing the mike switch. He didn't have to wait long before he heard a Morse code reply. And he didn't have to wait long after that for a surprise. A black youth casually walked around the corner and waved. Then he pulled out a gun, and sprayed into a car across the street.

That wasn't what John Shaw had expected, but he got the idea. Catching sight of his partner running around the corner in back of him, John Shaw sped off, putting the light on the roof and starting the siren. He turned at the intersection the youth had appeared at--the opposite way. He was going to get reviewed on this, maybe fired. But he had taken the money; now his only chance was to make sure they thought he wouldn't turn.

Jaleel Brown tumbled down from a razor-wired wall the next street back from his apartment. He left the blankets there; they were ripped to shreds now, but he had only a few cuts. He'd left Caitlin with a gun; that was all he could do for her now. Then he heard some popping sounds . . .

"Well, you ain't as stupid as I thought you might be," a voice called out from the darkness. Marvell tossed his gun over the razor-wired wall, and strolled away, making a call on his cellphone. When he connected, 50 kilos of C4 hidden inside of Jaleel Brown's BMW went off, killing Caitlin Terwilliger, Keisha Terwilliger Brown, Officer John Shaw's latest partner, and nine others.

While waiting for his car to come, Marvell Jones made another call, to the lawyer who might be the leak. "Yes, I know it's late. I just wanted you to know I handled the Jay matter myself, so don't worry about it any more. Oh, say hello to the wife and kids. We've all got to get together soon. Real soon . . . don't be a stranger, now."