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Then I got the absolutely genius idea to set a trap for her.
First I bugged the dumpster. Got this microphone transmitter off of Amazon for 30 bucks and duck-taped it under the dumpster. Tested it out on a little short wave radio receiver I bought, too. I had Peanut talk out by the dumpster and I could hear him clear as day.
Then I left a pile of papers on my desk. Five sheets down I stuck a Post-It with the scrawled note, Fri – 3AM – Vern’s – 40. I figured that was sufficiently clear to warrant attention, but vague enough to pass the sniff test.
Then I left my office door cracked open and spent the rest of the night drinking with Eyeball and the other guys in the club. I looked like I was just having a good time with my boys, but I always kept an eye on Venus.
She didn’t disappoint. Around 1AM I saw her sneak into my office. Five minutes later, she crept back out and made a beeline for the exit.
As soon as she was gone, I went into the office. I could smell her – just a hint. The entire club stank like cigarette smoke and cheap perfume, but I caught a whiff of Venus’s usual scent. It was a little classier than the rest of the hoes who worked for me.
The papers on my desk were almost exactly the same… but not quite. If I hadn’t known she’d been in there, I never would have noticed.
I pulled out the shortwave radio and turned it on. Within seconds, I heard the click click click of her heels on the asphalt, followed by her voice.
“I found something. Yeah, there was a note on his desk that said Friday, 3 AM at Vern’s, and the number 40. What? Vern’s is that deli over on Hauser Street. I don’t know – could be 40,000 dollars or 40 kilos of cocaine. I don’t KNOW! Jesus. No, I took a picture, I’ll send it to you. Hold on.”
My blood was fuckin’ boiling, but I also had the cold, hard satisfaction that I’d called the situation right.
This bitch was going to pay.
“You got it? See? No – I looked, but I couldn’t find anything else. Hey – this is it, you hear? Lou would kill me if he knew what I did.”
Damn straight, you goddamn whore.
“Fuck you. NO. Then arrest me when you arrest THEM, but I’m not doing anything else for you, so go fuck yourself, asshole.”
She hung up the phone. Ten minutes later, she was dancing on the main stage like she didn’t have a care in the world except gettin’ those dollar bills.
She had no idea she’d just signed her death warrant.
91
Benjy kept bugging me about Venus. Every. Single. Fucking. Night. He was a persistent motherfucker, I’ll give him that. I kept putting him off – until the night I heard her conversation on the phone.
“I think it’s like she said – it’s an old boyfriend,” I told Benjy. “But I don’t know where he lives in LA. I’m workin’ on it. You haven’t told anybody, have you?”
I was half hoping he had. That way, when I had her killed, I could tell him his blabbermouth was the reason. The guilt over her death would keep him from spilling the beans to anybody else.
But no, seems like I’d sufficiently bribed and scared the shit out of him.
“No, Lou, I ain’t told nobody,” he said, wide-eyed and innocent.
“Alright… well, let me get back to you, kid. I just need a little more time. I’m almost there.”
“Okay, Lou. Okay. I won’t tell nobody. But you’ll tell me soon, right?”
“Soon as I wrap this all up.”
Little did he know who I’d be wrapping up, and that it would be in an old plastic tarp.
92
First, though, I had to put on a little show at Vern’s Deli on Friday.
I called Eddie and Eyeball into my office. I told them I thought Dan Peters might be trying to squeeze me for more payoff money, so I wanted to run a bogus drug buy to see if I was right. I didn’t mention Venus or the DEA; no reason to get anybody’s panties in a wad. And I didn’t want Eyeball slapping her around again and then using her being a snitch as an excuse.
Eddie was supposed to dress up in civilian clothes – no Midnight Riders insignia – and be at Vern’s at 3AM. He’d hand off an empty paper bag to Eyeball, who would give him a couple of gym bags in return. I’d stake out the location from a half a mile away with a pair of binoculars.
