Hair of the Dog by Gordon Carroll (reading strategies book TXT) 📗

do what we did. That’s all I know, Blood, I swear it is. I swear.”

“Who were the OGs the big dude was talking too?”

“Twelve Gauge and Mad Money Man,” said the boy, sweat pouring down his face and neck.

“None of them is that high up to make a call like that,” said Jerome.

“Nah, not them. Whoever he was talking at through that sleeve thing. I heard him call the dude PM.”

Jerome had heard the acronym before, back before he’d gone rogue. PM for Psycho Murderer. No one seemed to know who he was, but every Blood knew of him.

Jerome’s eyes swiveled over to the old woman. “You best look away.”

She just blinked slowly and took another long draw on the cigarette, the ash still hanging there, defying gravity.

Jerome shot Baby Toker through the forehead and either the blast wave or the old woman flinching at the sound finally made the ash fall to the floor. Jerome knew he should shoot James and the old woman. But he didn’t, he left instead. He didn’t know why he let them live, it was foolish and it would warn the Bloods to his presence, but Jerome did it anyway.

33

My eyes snapped open at the sound of the knock. Max stood silently by the door waiting for the chance to destroy. The sun was up and the heavy rush of traffic outside told me rush hour was still in effect.

“Ziggy says it’s time to hear what we gots to say,” said Ziggy from outside my door.

I threw back the covers and rubbed at my face.

“Ok, Ziggy, ok, give me a few and I’ll come to your room.”

“Ziggy says he’ll wait, he surely will.”

I stood and padded my way into the bathroom, which was comprised of a rusty sink with heavy water stains around the drain and a shower with a drooping curtain. Before I shut the door, out of habit mostly, I said to Max, “Don’t kill anybody…” I thought about it for a second, remembering where I was, and then added, “Unless they need killing.”

The water took about ten minutes to heat up, so while that was happening, I shaved in the sink and then did a quick wash and rinse before toweling off. The bullet wound to my chest was healing, the scar an angry reddish color, but already beginning to blend. I dressed and let Max out to take care of his business. No one came up to me to tell me about my civic responsibilities of cleaning up after my dog. But then again, maybe that was because of the bum taking a dump on the sidewalk on the corner in front of traffic, passersby, and the world in general without a hint of embarrassment.

I shook my head and let Max back into the room before walking over to Ziggy’s a few doors down. Jerome sat at the desk, drinking coffee. He’d cleaned up and was wearing new clothes. The bruising and cuts were still there of course, but he looked way better. Less scary.

Ziggy handed me a cup of black coffee. His eyes were dilated and his hands steady, which told me he must have scored already.

“Any luck?” I asked.

“Ziggy says he done got us a name,” said Ziggy.

“A name?”

“Lucinda Washington,” he said. “She be a ho works the corner of 17th street.”

“A whore…a prostitute?” I asked.

“Ziggy says she be a friend to the little girl’s mother, what big boy over here killed.”

“You think she knows something?” I asked.

“Ziggy says that he got word that she do.”

“Okay,” I said. “That could be good. When will you make contact?”

“Ziggy thinks later today. Ho’s don’t strut this early.”

I looked at Jerome.

“You?”

“Your man Clyde ordered the hit on me and you.”

That made sense. I didn’t know how or why, but it seemed to fit.

“You sure?”

“Big black man, big as me, bald, dressed like a fed, radio in his ear. It’s him.”

“Okay, any idea why?”

Jerome shook his head to the negative. “Orders from a Blood OG goes by PM… Psycho Murderer.”

That made my eye brows go up. “Nice moniker. Who is he?”

“Don’t know. Never saw him. Heard of him, back in the day. Mostly whispers. He was like a legend or a myth. No one I ever knowed ever saw him face to face. Just heard tell of him is all.”

“And what was it you heard tell of him, exactly?”

He shrugged his massive shoulders. “Don’t remember exactly. Mostly stuff like how he was taking over the Bloods. How he moved up fast and was making changes. How he took out a couple of the other OGs. Someone once told me how he burned one of the OGs alive. Don’t know if it’s true though.”

“So why would he want Keisha?”

“Clair. She’s my Clair.”

Seeing the look in his eyes, I held up a hand.

“Clair,” I said softly.

“Don’t know, don’t care, so long as he dies.”

“I get that,” I said. “But knowing why might help lead us to him.”

“Still don’t know,” said Jerome. “But I remember he was supposed to be sort of uppity-uppity. Dressed fancy, stuff like that. Said to have liked the women.”

I shook my head. Not a lot to go on.

“So what’s next?” asked Jerome.

“I go see Senator Marsh.”

“Find out where Clair is,” said Jerome.

I nodded. “I’ll make sure she’s safe, buy us some more time so we can get to whoever wants her dead. In the meantime, you stay put.” I looked over to Ziggy. “You see what you can get from the lady of the evening. Also, we need to find out who this aunt and uncle of Keisha’s are. See if you can sniff anything out on that.”

“Something else,” said Jerome. “The Bloods know I’m in town.”

That wasn’t good.

“All the more reason for you to stay put and inside.”

Jerome nodded, but something about the way his eyes shifted as he looked away made me wonder if he would follow my advice.

I loaded Max up in the car and drove to Marsh’s office. It was a big, sprawling