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Fordham cocked his head. He looked surprised – and a little intrigued.
“Hear me out,” Jack said. “I can give you everything.”
“You can’t give me anything I don’t already have, Pollari.”
“I was there when Lou killed that second robber from the Seven Veils. I can testify against him.”
Fordham chuckled. “You’re gonna testify against another Midnight Rider? Riiiight. I’ll believe that when I see it.”
Jack shifted uneasily in his chair. I could see his internal conflict playing out on his face – help the DEA, who he hated, or stand by and watch the entire club go down in flames.
“I’ll do it if there’s no other way,” Jack finally said.
“Not good enough. Like you said, I want the entire distribution network, not just Lou.”
Jack squinted, thinking hard. “You’re not after pot… not in a state where it’s legal. You would have taken us down already if pot was what you wanted.”
Fordham was silent and just stared back.
“Two Santa Muertes broke into the Seven Veils about three weeks back,” Jack said, trying another angle.
“We know,” Fordham yawned. “We also know what happened out in the desert, so don’t even think you’re gonna bargain with that one.”
“They weren’t Santa Muertes.”
Fordham frowned. “How do you know that?”
“I talked to Hector Reyes. I’m sure you know who that is. He didn’t know anything about it.”
“What were you doing talking to Hector Reyes?”
“It was a sit-down. Personal courtesy, considering my former position as president.”
Fordham scratched his chin. “Huh…”
“That helpful?” Jack asked.
“Not really, no. We already knew the shooters weren’t in the gang.”
“How?”
“Ran the names. Didn’t match any of our intel.”
“Wait – the first guy I get, he got shot in the club – but how’d you find out the second guy’s name?”
“We got the body,” Fordham said. “Well… enough to get fingerprints, anyway. I’d tell you to advise Lou that the next time he wants to get rid of a stiff, to use a vat of acid… but you won’t be seeing him again till you’re both in San Quentin. You can tell him then.”
“Everybody there was an accessory!” Jack said angrily. “With that and the pot, you can put everybody away for ten years at least!”
Fordham shrugged and gave an assholish smile. “Not enough, Jack. Not by a long shot.”
I’d been listening the entire time, trying to figure this out.
Fordham didn’t care about pot…
He didn’t care about a murder…
“You’re going for something bigger than the Midnight Riders,” I realized.
