“Bullshit,” Bedford said with over-the-top venom. “What I understand is that your clients here are looking at life in jail for murder and drug trafficking. Save the medal of valor application and cut to the goddamn chase, counselor.”
The lawyer opened his mouth for a moment, and then closed it, the overhead fluorescent lights gleaming off the brown wrecking ball of his head.
“I was told we were here to make a deal for my clients,” he said. “Maybe I heard wrong.”
“Exactly. We want immunity. Full immunity,” Miguel cut in.
“And witness protection,” said Ramon.
“Oh, is that all?” said ever-helpful Bill Bedford. “No problem. How about we toss in a flying pony that shits bars of gold?”
CHAPTER 97
“ENOUGH, OKAY? WE get it,” Tara said, suddenly jumping in before Bedford could do any more damage. “You want to skate. That’s a very tall order. What do we get?”
“We know where Manuel Perrine is,” Ramon said. “I’m talking right now.”
“No,” said Miguel, eyeing his brother. “He doesn’t know shit. I do. I know where Perrine is.”
“How would you know anything about Perrine?” I said.
“We’ve been doing business with his people for quite some time, purchasing cocaine and heroin from their distributor in the Bronx. People from the Perrine cartel contacted me three weeks ago and asked me to lease a house for them in a secluded location where a helicopter could land without looking suspicious. I was also asked to supply a staff of cleaning people and a chef who could cook French cuisine.
“The chef is an old friend of mine. He confirmed to me that Perrine is at the location, that he arrived the night after the escape. I was able to contact my friend this morning, and he confirmed it again. Perrine’s still there as we speak.”
“There was an attractive,
dark-haired woman with Perrine,” I said.
“Marietta?” Miguel said, looking at me. “Yes. She’s there as well.”
“Why the hell is he still hanging around?” Bedford said.
“Arrangements are being made to get them out of the country, back into Canada, where they had been living before Perrine’s arrest, but there’s some sort of problem,” Miguel said. “We need to move on this before my arrest is made public. Once that happens, he’ll send a kill team to wipe out me, my brother, and our family. That’s what he does.
“He told me many times that sweet death is the noble price every man should happily pay for failure. He thinks of dealing drugs as a religious calling and himself as a messiah figure. He’s incredibly insane. Please, you need to help us. You need to grab this sick bastard. It’s our only chance.”
“Okay, okay,” Tara said, standing. “We’ll confer out in the hall for a moment.”
“What do you think, Mike?” Tara said after the door closed. “This info sounds credible.”
“Extremely credible,” I said. “Especially the part about Perrine being incredibly insane.”
“I agree,” Bedford said, trying hard not to lick his chops. “These two are sharks, but Perrine is Moby Dick. We need to make the deal.”
“I will, Bill, on one condition,” Tara said.
“What’s that?” Bedford said.
“That Mike is brought back in on this for Perrine’s arrest and capture.”
Bedford glared at her and then at me, but behind his eyes, I could see the calculator in his brain being furiously punched.
“Okay, fine. I’ll have to talk to my boss, but I think we can work that out.”
“Okay, then,” Tara said, winking at me as she grabbed the doorknob. “Let’s go back in there and make a deal.”
CHAPTER 98