Chapter 6: Tony Rocky Horror

Freddy sat near the entrance of the police station, looking at a pamphlet about tips for preventing break-ins. Not that he needed to know anything. He couldn't imagine what any robber would want from his shit apartment.

"Are you Freddy Newendyke?"

A pair of sandaled feet entered Freddy's field of view, and he looked up to see an Asian man wearing faded jeans and a "Save the Whales" t-shirt. The man's eyes flicked to the scar on his right cheek, but he didn't say anything and stuck out his hand. "I'm Detective Zack Jiang. We spoke on the phone."

"Oh, right." Freddy shook his hand and stood up, throwing aside the pamphlet.

Detective Jiang gestured towards the door of the station. "Let's go."

The bright sunlight made Freddy squint when he stepped outside, and he immediately put on his shades. Jiang led him to his car, and soon they were barreling down the street with the windows rolled down and the radio on. The other detective was definitely not what Freddy had been expecting. He was about his age, for one, and with his clothes, his tribal bead necklace, and his scruffy beard, he looked more like a stoner hippie than one of the detectives building a case against crime lord Marsellus Wallace.

"So where are we going?" asked Freddy, propping his elbow up on the open window.

Jiang turned down the radio. "A little strip bar I know. It's not open, but the owner's a buddy of mine and he'll let us in. And it's on neutral ground, which is what Tony's most concerned about."

"What can you tell me about Tony Rocky Horror?"

"Antwan Rockamora," said the other detective, pulling a file off the back seat and dumping it in Freddy's lap. "Thirty-six, half-black half-Samoan, been to county twice. Now that's one messed up son of a bitch. Fat too."

"Yeah, I heard," said Freddy, glancing at the mug shot. Jiang raised an eyebrow. "My contact," Freddy elaborated, smiling as he remembered Susan. "She said he had a speech impediment or somethin'."

"That's right. About a year ago, poor Tony had a little disagreement with Wallace. Long story short, Tony was thrown out of his apartment window, four floors up."

"No shit?"

Jiang nodded. "It's fucked up, man. Nobody really knows why, but there are all sorts of rumors. Anyway, Tony fell through a little greenhouse below the window. Ever since then Tony hasn't been on Wallace's regular payroll. He's not too fond of the old boss anymore, so it was pretty easy to get him to agree to this meeting."

Freddy was quiet for a moment, watching the pedestrians on the street. He was struck by a sudden thought. "Hey, d'you know about Vince Vega?"

"Sure I do," said the other detective, glancing into the rearview mirror. "He was one of Wallace's hit-men. Killed a few months back in some dude's bathroom."

"Did you know he had a brother?"

"No, I didn't. Was he also a ruthless cold-hearted son of a bitch?"

Freddy gave a grim smile. "Worse. He was a motherfuckin' psychopath." He bit his lip. "That's why I'm here now. I need to get that guy."

Jiang glanced over at him quizzically. "I thought you were on the George Dover case."

"Yeah I am," Freddy confessed, rubbing the back of his neck. "This thing with Vega… it's a little more personal. I think that if I get Dover, I can get him."

The other man grinned. "I see. Well, I hope Tony can tell you something useful."

They pulled into a driveway which led to a lot behind the club. Freddy glanced up at the neon sign: "Sam's Hoffin Braus". Jiang knocked on the door four times, and it was opened by a middle-aged man with a lumberjack beard. "Hey Zack!" he said, grinning like a motherfucking Santa Claus. "Good to see ya, kid. Come right on in. And your friend, too."

The club was dimly-lit and deserted, with stools stacked up on the bar and chairs on the tables. A stage that took up one end of the room had three dancing poles.

"Can I get you boys a drink?" the lumberjack asked cheerfully, throwing a towel over his shoulder.

"Not for me, Samuel, thanks," said Jiang, waving his hand. He turned to Freddy who shook his head. "We'll just take a table at the end. Now we don't wanna be disturbed or anything. This is a private conversation, right?"

Samuel put his hand over his heart. "Scout's honor."

Jiang led the way to the table in the back, and he and Freddy unstacked the chairs. Jiang put two close together, facing a third with its back to the door. "That oughta make him uncomfortable." They sat and waited.

"Mind if I smoke?"

"Go right ahead," said Jiang, glancing at his watch. "Chubby's two minutes late. If he thinks he'll unsettle us by making us wait, he's gonna be disappointed." The detective put one sandal-shod foot on the edge of the table and tipped his chair back until it balanced on two legs, whistling softly between his teeth.

Freddy's cigarette was half-smoked when someone knocked on the door. Samuel went to answer it, and soon a man hurried into the club. He was easily three hundred pounds. Big, black, with a ponytail and a goatee. He spotted them and walked nervously to the table.

"Well sit down," said Jiang, gesturing at the empty chair. The man sat gingerly, and the chair creaked. He wasn't armed, but the two detectives were.

"I guess I'll make the introductions." Jiang let his chair fall forward so that the legs hit the floor with a bang. The fat man jumped. "Tony, this is Detective Newendyke."

Tony Rocky Horror gave Freddy a brief nod, before leaning towards Jiang. "H- h- hey man, I don't know w- w- why you called me h- here, but let me tell you that I'm r- risking my neck, and if Marsellus ever –"

"Marsellus isn't gonna know shit about this meeting," said Jiang evenly. "This is the Valley, Tony. Marsellus has no contacts here. Now relax. Have a cigarette."

"I don't s- s- smoke," muttered Tony.

"Of course you don't," said Jiang, shooting an amused glance Freddy's way. "Now Tony, Detective Newendyke would like to ask you a few questions. I told him that you're a good guy, a reasonable son of a bitch. Don't make me a liar. Detective?"

Freddy tapped ash into a little glass bowl. "Last weekend you had a meeting with someone." He watched Tony, who looked instantly on his guard. "I'd like to know what you discussed."

Tony licked his lips and glanced at Jiang, then back at Freddy. "H- hey listen, detective, w- w- what a man s- says to another is h- h- his own private business."

Freddy blew a stream of smoke into Tony's face, and the other man coughed. "I know you're worried that word about the meeting will get out. If the cops know, maybe Marsellus does too. Right? But I have to say, Tony, you were very stupid picking the meeting place. Right in your boss' backyard. Now, I understand that you wanted the home advantage, but come on."

Sweat glistened on the large man's brow, and he kept clasping and unclasping his hands.

"But luck seems to be with you," Freddy continued. "So far as we know, Marsellus has no idea what happened. Right, Detective?"

"Right," said Jiang.

"So," said Freddy, extinguishing his cigarette in the ashtray, "why don't you tell us what you were talking about? Should I help you along?" he asked when Tony remained silent. "Let me refresh your memory. You met George Dover at Jack Rabbit Slim's. You had the steak with extra chili fries, and he had the Fats Domino Cheeseburger. Does that ring a bell?"

"Shit, w- w- what do you w- want me to s- s- say, man?"

"Why did Dover want to meet you?" asked Freddy harshly, leaning forward. "He mentioned salaries. Was he trying to hire you? Did he want you to do a job for him?"

Tony looked desperately at Jiang, sweating profusely now. Jiang's eyes were cold. "Answer the question," he said quietly.

Tony gulped and glanced over his shoulder at Samuel, who was stacking glasses. "Dov w- wanted to h- h- hire me as a s- s- s- soldier," he whispered. "He s- said he'd h- h- heard about my old argument w- with Marsellus, and w- w- wanted to offer me a f- f- full-time position."

"And what did you say?"

The fat man stared at Freddy. "I refused, cuz Marsellus w- w- would kill me, even if I'm not on h- h- his payroll anymore."

"I don't know," said Jiang slowly. "Ever since your accident you've been desperate for some regular work. And Dover was probably offering a pretty sweet deal. Wouldn't you say so, detective?"

"Without a doubt," Freddy confirmed.

"You can s- say all you w- w- want, Greenpeace," said Tony, glaring at Jiang. "I may not be the s- s- smartest guy out there, but I know w- what Marcellus can do."

Jiang looked at Freddy, who finally nodded. "All right, Tony. That's all we wanted to ask you about. Take care of yourself. And go on a diet, for God's sake."

"F- f- fuck you, detective," said Tony. He heaved himself to his feet and lumbered to the door.

When he was gone, Freddy turned to Jiang and raised his eyebrows. "'Go on a diet'?" he echoed incredulously.

The other detective grinned. "Hey, someone's gotta save the whales," he said, pointing at the motto on his t-shirt. "Did you get what you wanted, Newendyke?"

Freddy nodded. "Shit yeah." He would be meeting the rest of the team tomorrow morning, and it felt good to be able to tell them something for a change.

A/N: Tony Rocky Horror, Marsellus Wallace, and Vince Vega are of course all from the movie Pulp Fiction. Jules Winnfield describes Tony as a half-Samoan with a weight problem; Vince more bluntly calls him fat. Detective Jiang is my own invention, but I rather like him.