The Next Day
With a stroke of luck, Mrs. Livingston was able to park closely to the front of the chocolate factory. The factory was near the wharf and normally busy with tourists. It was the perfect place to meet Taylor - their business could be tended to hidden in plain sight.
With fifteen minutes to go before their planned meeting, the older woman, dressed in an elegant pantsuit, pulled the metal briefcase which sat on the passenger's side towards her. She looked through the front window of her Lincoln, not really knowing whom she was meeting but thinking that she might catch a glance of a solitary man looking for someone like her.
She sighed and rested her eyes for a brief moment. Mary Livingston thought back over the events of the last six months. Her husband had been dead only two years, stricken by a massive heart attack. Her two sons took over the gambling and racketeering businesses which ran from a variety of small shops - mostly bars, Laundromats and convenience stores. The sons began trading in drugs which added an unwanted element to the family business. The culture and climate changed with new and dangerous faces coming up from LA. How she despised the new developments.
Danny Spagnozzi had been the heir apparent to the Spagnozzi business. He tried to persuade the Livingstons that the shift to a drug trade was bad for everyone. His clients were running scared and Danny thought he could reason with his family's long time rivals. After all, there had always been professional respect, especially when Old Man Livingston ran things. The old man knew that between the two families, they were able to keep outsiders away from their businesses and their clients. There was more than enough money to go around in the gambling, protection and loan businesses.
But that respect ceased when the brothers took over. Charlie, who had tried to stop Danny from meeting the Livingstons on his own, followed his nephew to an abandoned Laundromat. Outside, he heard the shots. He ran to save Danny, but he was too late. Two shots in the face ended the young man's life.
But Charlie did at least see the Livingstons running out a side door after the murder. With much deliberation, Charlie and Vic Spagnozzi, Danny's father, decided to discreetly take their story to police. They quietly sought their old schoolmate's little brother from the Potrero and Mike diligently worked the case. The Livingston brothers were unceremoniously arrested and quickly indicted.
With their trial set and Spags as the sole witness, Mrs. Livingston tried her best to discredit the older man. She arranged for two of his old prison buddies to set up plans for a drink at a local tavern. Spags, while being a streetwise con, was also very social and thought nothing of the invitation. Shortly before the ex-cons were due to arrive at the bar, she placed a call to the police and to his parole officer alerting them that their con was consorting with other ex-cons. The police had no choice but to arrest Spags.
She could have waited out to see how a Quentin-bound ex-con's testimony would fly with a jury. Instead, she was nervous that the worst would happen and that her beloved boys would go to jail for murder. She took matters into her own hands and called on an old friend of her husband's, Dietrich Harmon. Dietrich's nephew was fresh out of Folsom and looking for a job. Dietrich recommend Greg to Mrs. Livingston.
She shook herself back to reality. No matter what happened, she knew there was little she could do to change things. How could things have gone so terribly wrong? How could her sons have gone so bad? How could her hired gun killed not only her intended victim, but also a young police detective?
She knew with the death of the policeman, the local authorities would be relentless to find out who hired the killers. While Taylor figured it best to leave town, she did as well. She decided to take Taylor to LA to catch a plane to Brazil with no arguments. While she hated the idea of leaving her sons, she, too, had her bags packed for places beyond Los Angeles.
The woman continued to look for her contact, but to no avail. Finally, at 10 am, Mrs. Livingston exited the driver's side with briefcase in hand.
Tanner watched her actions as he sat in the driver's side of the unmarked Ford LTD. which was parked about three hundred feet from the factory entrance. "Mike should be here any minute," he said to Lessing seated next to him. "Let's wait a moment and see whom she meets."
The pair had taken their turn as Mrs. Livingston's tail earlier that morning. From the get-go, she was at the top of the suspect list as someone who may be involved with the shooting. Her motive was quite clear. The detectives saw the older woman loading two pieces of luggage in her car and correctly concluded that she was about to make a move.
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"Mrs. Livington, I presume?" Taylor said with an odd smirk. Nothing was funny to the woman as she addressed the man coldly.
"Mr. Taylor?"
"Do you have the money, ma'am?"
"Yes, I do. It's right here. I'm certain that you don't want to open this case in such a public place, but you will have to believe that it's all here."
"Splendid. I believe I mentioned that I would like a ride to Los Angeles. Are you prepared to oblige?"
"Yes," she answered coolly. "We can leave right now. But what assurances do I have that you won't shoot me half way down there and steal my car?"
"You really don't have any assurances, but understand that we are both guilty of murder. I don't think either one of us will be going to the police. I really don't view you as much of a threat. Besides, you remind me of my own mother," he replied sarcastically. Taylor looked around, "Shall we?" he asked as he offered her his arm.
She glared at him and walked her own way. "My car is over here."
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Mike saw the exchange from afar, as he looked through his binoculars. "Boys, I think we have found Charles A. Taylor. Let's move in," he called in through the radio.
Mike exited his Galaxy which was up the block from the factory, while Lessing and Tanner came from the other side.
The trio had quickly closed the distance between themselves and the pair when, out of nowhere, Vic Spagnozzi cornered Taylor and Mrs. Livingston.
"You filthy scum. Both of you are coming with me." It was clear to the pair that Spagnozzi had a gun, which was pointed their way through the pocket of his raincoat. "You," Vic said as he look at Taylor. You get in the driver's side of her car. And you," he shifted his glare to Mrs. Livingston, "you get in the back seat and keep your damn mouth shut."
Mike, Tanner and Lessing quickened their pace until they were only a few feet away from the trio. They drew their guns but withheld fire.
"Vic," Mike called out. "Vic Spagnozzi. Don't move," he commanded.
"Stone," Vic recognized the older detective immediately. "This is the other dirt bag who was behind the shooting of my brother and your partner."
"I know that, Vic. Tell me, what are you planning to do here?"
"I planned to take care of him and Mrs. Livingston. It was her boys who did Danny in."
"Come on, Vic. Let's not do anything illegal, okay? Just turn them over to us and it will be okay."
"What are you going to do with them, Stone? Can you guarantee me that they'll pay for what they did?"
"I normally won't guarantee anything, but you have my word - after what they did to your brother and my partner, I will see to it that they pay."
Taylor became edgy and looked around for a way to escape. He had his gun and figured he could grab the old lady as a hostage, then take her car. It was his only way out. Anything was better than returning to Folsom. He had a chance at $120,000 and Brazil. He was going to take that chance now or die trying.
Taylor pulled the gun from his waistband and grabbed Mrs. Livingston. "Don't say a word. Just slip your car keys in my pocket," he whispered in her ear. "And hang on to that briefcase until I tell you to let go."
She gasped and then allowed herself to be guided backward to the car as Taylor had his gun at her side. Onlookers quickly cleared the way.
"Don't do it, Taylor. If you stop now and give yourself up, it will be easier for you. Don't add kidnapping, grand theft auto and resisting arrest to your charges," Mike tried to reason.
"I didn't kill the cop. You have to understand that was not the plan," Taylor shouted back. "The contract was on the old man, Charles Spagnozzi. It was Harmon who screwed everything up. No one else was supposed to be killed or injured."
"Taylor," Mike looked at him sternly. "Spagnozzi and the detective are both alive. You will not be charged with their murders."
The look on Mrs. Livingston's face was priceless. She did not know whether to be relieved or angry at the news that Harmon and Taylor did not complete the job.
Taylor thought for a moment, but then realized that it didn't matter. He wasn't even sure if he believed Stone. At best, Taylor had still attempted two kill two men, including a police officer. And he did indeed rob and kill another man, Greg Harmon. He figured it was a matter of time before that fact was proven.
"Give me the briefcase, now," he whispered to Mrs. Livingston. He dropped his hand from her neck and grabbed the handle. Simultaneously he threw the old woman to the ground and aimed his gun at Mike.
The loud crack of the gun's report momentarily brought everything to a standstill.