The Night Gardener

Brock had another sip of his drink. He put the snifter down and went to Chantel Richards. He touched a finger to her face and ran it slowly down her cheek. She grew warm at his touch and turned her head away.

Broadus's expression did not change.

'I'll give you a choice,' said Brock. 'Either you give up your shit or I'm gonna fuck Chantel right here in front of you, understand? What you think of that?'

'Go ahead,' said Broadus. 'Invite the whole goddamn neighborhood, you got a mind to. They can take a turn with it, too.'

Chantel's eyes flared. 'Motherfucker.'

'You don't love your woman?' said Brock.

'Shit,' said Broadus. 'Most of the time, I don't even like the bitch.'

Brock turned to Gaskins. 'Fix the lady a drink.'

'What you want, girl?' said Gaskins.

'Martell,' said Chantel Richards. 'Make it the Cordon Bleu.'

Brock and Chantel sat on a king-size bed in the master bedroom upstairs. Atop the dresser were several ornate boxes that Brock assumed held jewelry. He could see many suits, a neat row of shoes, and a set of designer luggage through the open door of the walk-in closet. Chantel drank some of the cognac, closed her eyes, and hit it again.

'This is good,' she said. 'One hundred ninety a bottle. I always wondered how it would be.'

'First time you had it, huh?'

'You think he'd ever let me have a taste?'

'Man doesn't care about his woman, 'specially one as fine as you? Makes you wonder.'

'Only thing Tommy cares about is this house and all the things he done bought to put inside it.'

'That your jewelry?' said Brock, nodding toward the dresser.

'His,' said Chantel. 'He ain't buy me nothin. That car you saw? It's mine. I pay on it every month. I work.'

'What else he got?'

'He got an egg.'

'An egg.'

'One of those Fabergé eggs, he says. Bought it off the street. I told him they don't have no Fabergé eggs on no hot sheet, but he claims it's real.'

'I don't want no fake eggs. I'm talkin about money.'

'He got it. But damn if I know where it is.'

'That boy down there with him, with the smart smile. He come to pick up some cash, right? He mulin some dope back from New York tonight, isn't he?'

'I expect.'

'But you don't know where that cash is.'

'Tommy wouldn't tell me that. Guess he don't love me enough.'

'He do love his stuff, though.'

'More than life.'

Brock pursed his lips. He did this when he was working on a plan.

'Wasn't much of a yard in the front,' said Brock.

'Huh?'

'Is there grass out back?'

'He got some.'

'So he got a lawn mower, too.'

'It's out there in a shed.'

'Wouldn't be electric, would it?' said Brock. "Cause that would really fuck with what I'm seein in my head.'

Gaskins held the glock loosely at his side. Broadus and Reese sat taped in their chairs, with Reese's mouth sealed. Chantel had poured another drink and was alternately sipping it and inspecting her long painted nails.

Brock came from the back of the house and entered the living room. He was carrying a two-gallon plastic container of gasoline.

'Wh-what you fixin to do with that?' said Broadus.

Brock unlatched the cover on the yellow nozzle and the pressure cap on the rear of the container, and began to shake gasoline out and around the room.

'Nah,' said Broadus. 'Nah, uh-uh.'

Brock poured gasoline over the white-woman statues, splashed some onto the leather-bound books on the shelves.

'Hold up,' said Broadus.

'You got somethin you want to say?'

'Cut me free.'

Gaskins produced a Buck knife and sliced the tape around Broadus's hands and ankles.

'Y'all motherfuckers just serious,' said Broadus, rubbing at his wrists.

'Your cash,' said Brock.

'You lookin to bankrupt a man,' said Broadus. He walked to the television stand and picked up one of three remotes that lay upon it.

Broadus pointed the remote at the fish tank and pressed a button. The tank began to rise out of its base. As it did, a small amount of tightly packaged heroin and what looked to be a great deal of money were revealed.

Brock laughed joyously. The others stared at the bounty with varying emotions. Chantel headed for the stairs.

'Where you goin?' said Brock.

'Get something to put that money in,' said Chantel. 'And my things. What you think?'

She returned with two identical Gucci suitcases and a Rolex President watch, which she fitted to Brock's wrist. Brock let the heroin sit and filled one of the suitcases with cash. He picked it up by the handle, his gun in his right hand.

'Don't,' said Gaskins, seeing Brock moving toward Edward Reese, still fully taped. But Brock kept walking, a man intent, pressed the barrel of the.45 to Reese's shoulder, and squeezed the trigger.

Reese shuddered violently and flopped about in the chair. The white Rocawear shirt was shredded and blackened instantly from the powder contact. Then it seeped red. Reese tried to scream but could not get the sound out from beneath the duct tape.

'Smile now,' said Brock.

'Let's go,' said Gaskins, and when Brock didn't move, savoring what he had done, he shouted the same words again.

'You coming?' said Brock to Chantel.

Chantel crossed the room and joined Brock and Gaskins.

'Say your name,' said Tommy Broadus.

'Romeo Brock. Tell your grandkids, fat man.'

'You made a mistake, Romeo.'

'I got your money and your woman. From where I'm standin, it don't look that way to me.'

Out on the street, a spotlight mounted on the door of a car flashed one time. The car turned around in the court and drove away.

'All that gasoline in there,' said Gaskins, as they walked to the cars, 'and you firing off a gun. Lucky we didn't get blowed up.'

'I got nothing but luck,' said Brock. 'Think I'll embroider a horseshoe on the headrest of my next ride.'

'Yeah, okay. But why'd you have to shoot that man?'

'Just a robbery otherwise.'

'What you sayin?'

'The words Romeo Brock 'bout to ring out on the street.' Brock pulled his keys from his pocket. 'My name gonna mean something now.'

CHAPTER 15

Ramone found Regina in their kitchen, leaning against the island countertop, holding a glass of chardonnay. It was early for her to be drinking alcohol. She had grilled chicken, boiled some green beans, and cut a salad, and all of it was ready to go. He kissed her and after their embrace he told her where he'd been and how it had gone.

'You see Helena?'

'No. She was in bed.'

'I'll go by tomorrow, bring them something like a casserole so they don't have to think about dinner.'

'They're loaded with casseroles,' said Ramone.

'I'll call Marita, then. She's a busybody, but she gets things done. Maybe we'll get a schedule together, where a bunch of us can cook something on a certain night and take it over.'

'That's a good idea,' said Ramone. 'Where the kids at?'

'They've eaten. They're up in their rooms.'

'I spoke to Diego on the phone. He seemed okay.'

'He didn't get too emotional about it, if that's what you mean. But he's been kinda quiet since I told him.'

'You know how he is,' said Ramone. 'He thinks he's gotta be hard, even at a time like this. He holds everything in.'

'And you're effusive,' said Regina. 'By the way, the school sent him home a little early today.'

'What now?'

'I'll let him tell you.'

Ramone locked up his badge and gun and went upstairs to Alana's room. She had lined up all her plastic horses in a row and was fitting her smaller dolls, Barbies, and Groovy Girls in the saddles. She liked to organize her things.

'How's my little girl?' said Ramone.

'Good, Daddy.'

He kissed the top of her head and smelled her curly hair.