"Mrs. Johnson, we're going to do everything we can to get your son out safe. To get everyone out safe, so he has another chance."
"They think it makes them men." Her hopeless eyes met Phoebe's. "The gangs, the drugs, the killing. They think it makes them men."
"I'm going to talk to him again now." Phoebe reached across the four-top, laid a hand briefly on Opal's. "All right?"
"You got any kids, miss?"
"Phoebe, and yes. I have a daughter. She's seven."
"Children rip the heart right out of you. And it lies there all bruised and battered, still beating for them. No matter what."
"Let's get him out safe." Phoebe started to make contact again, paused when Ricks rushed in.
"We've got Sagget in custody. Charges of possession-drugs and firearms. Took a gun from the apartment where he was hiding, matches the caliber of the weapon that shot Franklin Johnson. We'll run ballistics."
"Okay. This is good." Phoebe looked back into Opal's eyes. "This is very good. I'll need you to help me with this, Mrs. Johnson. The person who shot your son, who shot Charlie's brother, is under arrest. He's going to be punished. We need to convince Charlie that it's enough, for now it's enough, and he should come out. All right, now."
She called the liquor store. There was more fatigue than defiance in his voice now. Another good sign. "Razz, I have some good news."
"My brother wake up?"
"Your bother's condition hasn't changed and that means he hasn't gotten worse. He's strong, isn't he?"
"Nobody stronger."
"So that's good. I want to tell you that Clip's been taken into custody."
"You got that rat bastard motherfucker?"
"Don't you use that language to this lady!" Opal snapped the words. "Don't you speak that filth, you hear me."
"He put bullets in T-Bone. I'll call him what he is, to anybody."
Phoebe held up a hand, easing it downward before Opal could speak again. "Your mother's very upset, Razz. She's worried about you and T-Bone now. But I think we have a way to make this all right, for everyone. The police have charged Clip, and he's in jail right now. He-"
"You bring that sumbitch to me!"
"I know you want to see him. I can arrange that. If you put the gun down and come out, I'm going to arrange to have you taken to where he's being held. So you can see him behind bars."
"I want to see him in the ground. Gonna put him there."
"You sound tired, Razz. It's been a long day, for everyone. I want to tell you that they found a gun with Clip, the same kind of gun that shot your brother. They're running tests right now. If the tests show it was the one used to hurt your brother, they'll be charging him with attempted murder. Do you know how long he could be behind those bars? For years and years. Maybe the rest of his life. If my brother'd been hurt like this, I'd want the person responsible to pay for a long time. A very long time."
I "He'll burn in hell."
"I think Georgia State's a kind of hell, too. Razz, they told me he was hiding. Hiding. I wonder what his gang will think when they find out he was hiding away."
"You fucking with me?"
"I told you not to use that language! She's telling you the pure truth. I was right here, wasn't I right here when they came in and told her? That boy who shot your brother's in jail. Now come out of there, you hear?" Opal began to weep again. "Come out of there because I can't watch another boy of mine bleeding."
"Don't cry, Mama. I want to make him bleed, like T-Bone's bleeding."
"Prison's worse than bleeding," Phoebe said. "For a man like Clip?
And now he's got no face left, no rep. Proved himself a coward. A coward who'll spend years paying for what he did. Your mother needs you,
Razz. She needs you to put down the gun and come out. To show you're not a coward. You've got the balls to walk out of there."
"You'll take me to see that bastard? See him in the cage? That's a solid?"
"It is. My word on it."
"I'm going to jail, same as him. That's not right."
"Not the same as him, not the same at all. You haven't hurt anyone yet, Razz. Not a single soul. That makes all the difference. If you come out, just the way I tell you, that's going to make a difference, too."
"How do I come out?"
"You put the gun down." Phoebe gave the signal, making certain the surrender was relayed to Tactical. "You don't want to have a gun on you when you come out. All right?"
"You got guns out there?"
"Yeah, there are going to be guns out here. I don't want you to worry. You'll put your hands up, where everyone can see, and you walk straight out the front door. You come out by yourself, you're no coward, right? You come straight out the front, with your hands high in the air. Will you do that?"
"All right. I'm coming out. I'm hanging up."
"I'll see you outside, Razz."
Phoebe cut off the phone, stood. "Let's go get your boy." She took
Opal's arm and led her toward the door of the diner. "Listen now, they're going to have guns on him when he comes out. They're going to move on him, get him on the ground and cuff him. That has to be." Phoebe scanned some of the windows and rooftops, spotted Tactical. Until Razz was out and in custody, she couldn't risk taking his mother too close to the inner perimeter. "I need you to wait here with this officer for just a few minutes. I'm going to come back and get you, and I'm going to see that you're taken to where Charlie will be."
"Thank you, for everything you did. Thank you."
Phoebe moved quickly, angling so she'd have a view of the front of the liquor store. When she saw the door open, saw the boy step forward, hands high, she let out a long breath of relief.
The gunfire was a stunning blast. For an instant she simply froze, simply stared as Charlie's body jerked, danced, fell. She heard herself screaming as she rushed forward, as dozens of cops dove for cover. Someone shoved her down. With the breath knocked out of her she heard the screams from inside the store, and the shouts of: "Shots fired! Shots fired!" zinging around her.
It was beautiful! And so pathetically easy. All you had to do was slip and slide and know how to look like you belonged. Not so hard to find a good position, hold up, wait things out.
All that time she'd spent talking that asshole out. Wasted, wasn't it, bitch?
Stupid fucker deserved to die. Gangs were a blight on the city.
He could have put some bullets in her, too. Easy-peasy. But this was better. This accomplished something and kept it all rolling.
He hadn't known, really hadn't guessed, how much fun this would all be. Why end it too soon?
He'd left the gun, done some more slipping and sliding. Easy-peasy again, tucking the ID away, melting into the panicked crowd, then easing away in the confusion.
But not before he watched Phoebe scramble up, run toward the others at the door of the crap-shit liquor store and drop down beside the dead kid.
'Cause that kid was stone dead, and don't you mistake it.
Press was going to love this, he thought as he made his way west to where he'd left his car. Going to eat it up like Cheez Whiz on a cracker. Lieutenant Bitch MacNamara had talked the asshole out all right.
And straight into a hail of bullets.
He was going to pick himself up a six-pack and some takeout, go home. And watch the news.
When Phoebe got home she heard the voices in the parlor. Dinner long over, she thought. Dishes done and put away.
Coffee and brandy served in the parlor-the Wedgwood pot, the
Baccarat decanter and snifters.