Papa Jack Chapter 34
"Mr. Marcus," Tina begins, returning to her seat, "I understand that you are prepared to talk. Is that correct?"
At the nod of his lawyer, Marcus responds. "Yes."
"Are you aware that you are being recorded, Mr. Marcus?" Tina inquires.
"Yes."
Tina poises a pen over a yellow legal pad. "Good. Now, let's start with your recent visit to an auto body shop owned by Vulcan Simmons. I have a witness that you never pulled a car into a service bay. So what were you doing there? And before you answer, remember that any variation from the truth completely voids my offer. So, Mr. Marcus, what was the purpose of your visit?"
Richard leans close to the observation window, barely avoiding crushing his nose against the glass. "Here we go!"
"I was at the auto body shop to negotiate the delivery of drugs," Marcus states, staring down at the table.
"Negotiate with whom?" Tina presses.
"Vulcan Simmons."
"And did you speak to Vulcan Simmons directly, or did you negotiate through an intermediary?" Tina continues.
"I spoke to him."
"And how did you know you were speaking with Vulcan Simmons?"
"Are you kidding? The man's a legend. Big black guy. Fancy clothes. Gold earring. Lots of other bling and a voice that could do Darth Vader. I'd met with him before, and before I did, my boss showed me a picture, but I didn't need one."
"So you are sure you were speaking with Vulcan Simmons."
"Yeah, I'm sure."
"You mentioned a boss. On whose behalf were you negotiating a delivery of drugs?"
"You mean my boss' name?"
"Yes, but also the entity he represents," Tina clarifies.
"He goes by E.C."
"Which stands for?"
"I'm not sure, but I've heard something like Elton Comdon. I rembember because it made me think of Elton John and condoms."
Tina suppresses a smirk.
"And who does E.C. work for?"
"The whole outfit?"
"Yes," Tina confirms.
"It's called W.H. Enterprises. It's in Montauk, right near the water."
"And who owns W.H. Enterprises?"
"I don't know," Marcus admits. "I heard it's some rich politician who uses his government connections to bring in drugs cheaper than a lot of other suppliers. But I don't know his name."
"All right, let's get back to your negotiations with Vulcan Simmons on behalf of W.H. Enterprises. What was your organization selling to him?"
"I told you, drugs."
"Which drugs? What quantity and at what price?"
"The price was what we were negotiating. He'd been getting grabby and wanted a discount. I was offering 10 kilos of heroin already cut and packaged in grams. All he had to do was put it out on the street. The asshole only wanted to pay $50,000 a kilo. That was the price in 2002. My offer was 63 grand a kilo. For 2005, that's cheap."
"And what price did you settle on?"
"Sixty-two-five."
"Sixty-two thousand five hundred dollars per kilo of ten kilos of cut and packaged heroin?" Tina summarizes.
"Yes," Marcus confirms.
"To be delivered, where and when?" Tina probes.
"Friday night, 11 pm at the body shop."
"Is Vulcan Simmons going to be there to receive it?"
"Yeah, he'll be there. He lives at the place. And he always checks shipments personally."
"And E.C. is aware of this arrangement?"
"Yeah, I called him as soon as it was set up."
"And would he suspect that you've tipped us off? Who's paying for your lawyer?"
"I am. Before we get our rings, we all swear that if we're caught, we're on our own – and if we squeal, we're dead. E.C. won't know. But if he and the organization find out, you gotta protect me."
"That's part of the agreement, Ms. Gonzales," Marcus' lawyer reiterates unnecessarily. "You have to keep my client safe."
"I'm very aware of that," Tina returns. "And I need him alive to testify in court. He'll get protection. It's in all of our interests."
Richard whirls to face Kate. "You're going to get him, Beckett! You're going to catch Vulcan Simmons in the act of receiving mass quantities of drugs for sale. And you can put the squeeze on him about Bracken and your mother's death."
Kate gazes up at him. "I hope so, Castle. I really hope so. Oh, Tina's coming out. I promised her coffee and some of that bakery stuff we hid."
A grin spreads across Richard's face. "I'll get right on it."
"Oh Richard, I'm so glad you could meet me," Martha gushes over an early supper in a theater district café. "I'm getting so many questions. We really must settle on a venue before we work on so many other details."
"You're right, we should. So, we have our choices pared down to three, correct?"
"Indeed," Martha agrees. "We have the experimental theater in the round, which is very close to my heart and many in the craft."
"But which, if I recall, seats a maximum of 300 people," Richard interjects.
"Yes, yes," Martha agrees. "It has the least capacity of our choices. Our second option is the Rainey Auditorium, which seats 500."
Richard sighs. "But I just discovered that the city is planning construction in the area, which could make traffic a nightmare."
"Oh dear!" Martha takes a sip of red wine. "Which brings us to our third possibility, that new loft theater you found."
"You don't need to be uneasy about it, Martha," Richard offers. "I know Loftview isn't steeped in tradition, but it is in a neighborhood where a lot of A-listers have migrated. That could attract fatter wallets. It can be adapted to accommodate 1000 people or any lesser number, and the rent is much lower than for any comparable, more traditional venue. It's a good deal, at least right now. But its popularity is rising, which means the price will, too. If we're going to snag it, we'll have to do it pretty fast."
"Can we get a tour?" Martha inquires. "I'd like to drink in the spirit of the place."
"We can," Richard assures her. "So far, Ms. Nekras, the events manager, has been very responsive to my inquiries. I'll call her and set one up. When are you free?"
"My play is dark on Mondays. So, this coming Monday, if possible."
Richard raises his iced tea. "Shooting for Monday. I'll call you when I have it arranged."
To Kate, the group gathered for the meeting to plan the raid on the heroin delivery to Vulcan Simmons, seems like alphabet soup – with soggy letters. The FBI is in attendance. Apparently, its presence is based on the origin of the drugs in Afghanistan and possible intelligence breaches. DEA agents are also milling around, along with detectives in the NYPD's Narcotics Division. They take seats in the 12th's conference room, filling every chair at the table and some extra ones along the wall. At the head of the table, Roy Montgomery clears his throat. "I don't have to tell anyone in this room how essential this operation is – or how vital it is to keep a lid on it. So, as of now, except for any necessary tactical orders to our people, this operation will not be discussed with anyone not present in this room."
As she takes in the words of her captain, Kate stiffens with determination. Johanna Beckett couldn't banish Vulcan Simmons' poison peddlers from New York City streets. Still, now, Kate has a chance to finish what her mother started.