They run for election, and the biggest liar with the most money gets elected.”
“Yeah, and after that it must be tempting to take a few
souvenirs when you’re the guy with the keys to the
kingdom. Our guy took a big pot o’ bucks from a couple
of developers and forgot to mention it to the I.R.S., oops.”
“Things like that can happen occasionally, but what’s
this ‘lieutenant’ stuff?”
“Well, the way I figure it, if the top man is out, everybody
moves up one notch to fill the void. Sergeant Moon, we
should be getting our silver bars any day now.”
“Jesse, your logic defies…well logic.”
“And that’s why you like me.”
“You’re probably right. I see you picked up our work
load,” Moon said pointing to the stack of folders on the
dashboard.
“Shuffle ‘em up and deal. I need something to do while
I wait for my increase in rank.”
“Well, look at this. Right on top of the stack is one that
fits in perfectly with our time of shift.”
“Pray tell, who is this convenient felon?”
“Bolodenka Zolnerowich .”
“Damn, must be tough to fit that into that little line on
applications.”
“Suspected Russian mob, but busted for domestic
violence and animal cruelty. Not sure if it was the same
victim. Anyway, Bolodenka, didn’t entirely agree with the
probation system. He stopped seeing his parole officer just
after the home address and the job he listed came back
dirty. Oh, he likes to be called ‘Benny.’ How American.”
“What’s the good news about our boy, Benny?”
“Well, we got no home address, and we got no job, but
as it turns out, our boy is a patron of the arts.”
Jesse laughed. “Well, if it’s the Russian mob, then the art has got to be female anatomy observed at some strip club.”
“Right you are. The Russian mobsters sure do like strip
clubs. If they don’t own all of them yet, I bet they got a bid
in on the last one available. Anyway, our boy seems to like
to relax from his trying day at ‘Dolls R Us’ right here in
scenic Oakland Park.”
“Isn’t that the one that some city commissioner for Fort
Lauderdale, what was his name…Pattersen, tried to close
down when he was running his family values campaign
just before he got caught with some hooker?”
“Your history is good. Pattersen, who was like a deacon
in his church, or something, got a law passed banning nude
dancing in the pristine city of Fort Lauderdale. So this
particular bar moved a couple of blocks down the street
into the city of Oakland Park. Pattersen, as it turned out,
was sleeping with a hooker whose husband was video
taping the whole thing.
“One thing led to another, and Pattersen ended up in
disgrace while the strip club just called a moving company.
At the end of the day, Pattersen lost his life, his job, and his
standing in his church, and the strippers moved five blocks
north. Another time when it’s hard to tell the good guys
from the bad guys.”
The line of cars for valet parking was adorned with
Beemers, Bentleys, Mercedes and just about every other
high-end import, and it stretched onto Federal Highway.
“Business must be good,” Moon said.
“It must be the free buffet, I guess. Now where the heck
are we going to park?”
“Let’s just park in that shopping center across the street.”
“Is that legal,” Jesse asked with a grin.
“Of course it is, Jesse. We work for the sheriff.”
The interior of the bar was all neon and spotlights, glitter and strobes. Moon tried to think of Mary Beth, but the
bodies of the dancers broke every law of gravity. He saw
Jesse staring too.
“Man, I should have stayed in vice,” Jesse said gazing
at one girl that had the hips of a teenager and the chest of
a porn star.
“You want to trade that for Alison?”
“No way. I’m just sayin’, hot is hot. I also didn’t see you
avert your eyes.”
“Hey, I’m not that old, Jesse.”
“Okay, I got my thrill for the week. From the picture in
the file, I’d say we got a half a dozen candidates for take
down. Hold on, maybe more. Does everyone that comes
to this bar shave his head and work hard on obesity?”
“I think that big guy in the booth in the back looks like
our guy,” Moon said after looking around.
“How about the guy at the bar, same look.”
“Yeah, but the guy in the booth has a scar on his
forehead.”
“Good eyes, brother. Yeah, he looks right.”
It was a crescent shaped booth, and Moon and Jesse
moved in from each side.
“What the fuck you guys doin’?”
“Just got a question,” Jesse told him.
“Fuck you, get outta here.”
Moon pressed the barrel of the .357 into the guy’s side.
“Let’s go outside and talk about this. We’re cops, and
we got a warrant.”
“Yeah, I could tell by the smell.”
“Let’s move,” Moon said.
The big man got to his feet slowly, but before he went
anywhere, he called out, “Paitroff, get security.”
Moon and Jesse started moving the heavy man through the crowded bar. He was not helping. It took several
minutes to get near the door and that was too much. Four
bouncers blocked their way. They looked bigger than the
defensive line of the Miami Dolphins and a lot meaner.
“Police, we have a warrant.” Moon hoped his voice
sounded authoritative.
No one moved. In the background, the thumping of the
dance music played on, and the strobe lights did their own
dance across the men’s faces.
“Let’s see,” Jesse said counting on his fingers as he spoke,
“Four of you guys against two of us. You guys need more
guys.”
“Ah, shit,” groaned a drunk who had been sleeping with
his head down on a table. “It’s going down,” he said into
what looked like a walkie-talkie.
That’s when things started to get interesting. The drunk
was now standing with a black automatic in his hand. He
leveled the handgun at the bouncers and calmly said,
“D.E.A., back off or die.”
At that same moment two men in black T-shirts with
“D.E.A.” stenciled on them, crashed through the door
knocking the bouncers forward into Moon and Jesse. Benny
grabbed a tall stripper, pushed her into the melee, and
made a try for the door. Moon grabbed Benny’s leg and
sent him sprawling across the bouncers, the D.E.A. guys,
and the stripper. A dozen other strippers, in different stages
of undress, attacked the men on the floor trying to free
their sister stripper. Moon took a stiletto high heel to the
small of the back, and he heard Jesse wince also. The
strippers were doing more damage than the bouncers.
That’s when the shot rang out.
“Now, damn it people, I got the gun, and I’m gonna
start blasting away at exposed body parts if you all don’t cut it the hell out right now.”
Moon spat a piece of feather boa out of this mouth as he
pushed himself to a standing position. He could see the
drunk standing untouched by the madness with one hand
pressed to his forehead, as if to stem a headache, and the
other hand lightly holding the pistol.
Everyone was untangling themselves from the pile of
bodies. It took both D.E.A. guys, and all the muscle they
could muster, to get Benny vertical. The strippers were like
mother hens clucking over their fallen comrade as the club
manager tried, to no avail, to get them back to work. The
bouncers quietly brushed dirt off their jackets. Then they
walked away as if nothing had happened. Jesse and Moon
were looking at each other as if to say, “What the heck is
going on anyway?”
The drunk, who turned out to be an undercover officer,
was attempting to herd his two men, who were holding
Benny up, and Moon and Jesse out of the club.
When everyone was outside, and on the far side of the
parking lot, the undercover narc spoke to Moon and Jesse.
“That bullshit,” he pointed back at the club as he spoke,
“just cost me three weeks work and my cover. Would you
guys care to tell me what the hell you were doing in my
investigation?”
Moon explained about the warrant and how there had
been no inter-departmental communication to tell them
about a D.E.A. operation.
“Inter-departmental communication,” the undercover
said and had to laugh in spite of himself, “now that’s an
oxymoron if there ever was one. Now who is this fat waste
of oxygen anyway?”
Moon showed him the warrant. The undercover shook
his head miserably. “Hell, he’s not even a player. We’re after a couple of guys
who we think are working out of that strip club providing
the pharmaceutical needs of the entire low-life community.
Your guy is probably part of the mob that owns this dive.
Doesn’t look like we’re gonna win this one. Word on the
street spreads faster than a ten-dollar hooker. I guess we’re
busted this time. You guys can have Shamu over there. I
hope you get a medal or something. I gotta shut my op
down.”
Jesse wanted to go back in and arrest the bouncers for
obstruction, but the arrest would be pretty shaky. They
never really had the chance to obstruct anything.
“I say we call it a draw, brother,” Moon told him.
“I think you’re right. Besides, I definitely don’t want to
take on those strippers again.” Jesse rubbed his right
shoulder and laughed.
“Come on Benny, I imagine even you could use some
peace and quiet,” Moon said and pulled Benny along
across the street toward the Camaro. “Next problem I see
is getting Benny here, in that car.”
“No problem,” Jesse said, “We’ll just strap him across
the front fender like a moose.”
“I don’t know, Jesse, I think we gotta have a four-wheel
drive for that.”
“Okay, we just drag him along behind the car.”
Benny was starting to look worried.
“Don’t worry bubba.” Moon slapped Benny on the back.
“We’ll get you out of here even if we have to cut you in
half and make two trips.”
That did not seem to make Benny more comfortable.