means Original Gangster. That’s like saying you’re a made man in the Mafia.”
“Okay”
Ray said, “What are you messing around with that’s got you down here in South Central with a goddamned Crip set?”
“Charles Lewis Washington.”
Ray’s smile faded and he looked at James Edward. “How’s your mama doing, son?”
“She’s okay. We got a little problem with the Eight-Deuce, though.”
Ray looked back at me. “You working for the family?”
“Nope. But maybe what I’m doing gets us to the same place.”
Ray looked at James Edward and James Edward nodded. Ray said, “I hadn’t seen Lewis for a couple years, but when I heard about him dying, I didn’t like it, and I didn’t like how it happened. I worked with that boy out of youth services. It was a long time ago and he didn’t stay with it, but there it is. Once you’re one of myyoung men, you’re one of my young men. Just like this one.” Ray Depente put a warm steel hand on James Edward’s shoulder and gave him a squeeze. “I tried to point this one toward the Marines but he liked the idea of ships.” Ray and James Edward grinned at each other, and the grins were as warm as the hand.
I said, “The cops say that Lewis was a Double-Seven gangbanger. His mother says no.”
Ray frowned. “Lewis used to mess around with the Double-Sevens, but that was years ago. That’s how he came to me.”
“He ever have anything to do with the Eight-Deuce Gangster Boys?”
“Not that I know.”
“The family filed a wrongful death after Lewis was killed, but James Edward here tells me that a guy named Akeem D’Muere made them back off.”
Ray looked at James Edward again. “You sure?”
James Edward nodded.
I said, “Why would Akeem D’Muere go to bat for a bunch of white LAPD officers?”
Ray shook his head. “I know Akeem. Akeem D’Muere wouldn’t go to bat for anybody unless there’s something in it for him.”
“When Lewis Washington died, every news service in town was looking into it, smelling Rodney King all over again. Maybe Akeem D’Muere wanted all the looking to stop. Maybe there was something going on at the Premier Pawn Shop that he didn’t want anyone to find out.”
“You think?”
I shrugged. “I think there’s a connection. I just don’t know who to ask to find out.”
James Edward said, “That’s why I brought him here, Ray. Figured you’d be the guy to know.”
Ray Depente smiled at James Edward. “You want me to ask around, young mister, I can do that. Know aman who’ll probably be able to help. But you stay away from those Eight-Deuce. The Navy doesn’t teach you what you need to know to mess with that trash.”
James Edward said, “Hell, Ray.”
The strawberry-haired woman came out of the dressing room, showered and changed, and gave Ray a ten-megawatt smile as she bounced out of the gym and into the sunshine. I said, “Pretty.”
Ray said, “Uh-huh.”
An older woman pushed her head out of a little glass cubicle that served as an office at the rear of the gym. She called, “Ray, it’s somebody from Twentieth Century-Fox. They say it’s some kind of emergency and they need you to come over and show Bruce Willis how to do something for a movie they’re making.”
James Edward grinned. “Bruce Willis. Damn.”
Ray didn’t look as thrilled with Bruce Willis as did James Edward. “Now?”
“They said right away.”
James Edward said, “These studio dudes hire Ray to set up fight scenes and teach his moves to their actors. Arnold been here, man. Sly Stallone useta come here.”
Ray shook his head. “I can do it tonight, but I can’t do it now. I’ve got a class coming in, now.”
The woman said, “They said right away”
Ray shook his head. “Movie people.” He called back to her. “Tell’m I gotta pass.”
James Edward Washington gave impressed. “Is this fuckin’ righteous or what? Tellin’ Bruce Willis to pass.”
The older woman went back into the glass
“Okay”
Ray said, “What are you messing around with that’s got you down here in South Central with a goddamned Crip set?”
“Charles Lewis Washington.”
Ray’s smile faded and he looked at James Edward. “How’s your mama doing, son?”
“She’s okay. We got a little problem with the Eight-Deuce, though.”
Ray looked back at me. “You working for the family?”
“Nope. But maybe what I’m doing gets us to the same place.”
Ray looked at James Edward and James Edward nodded. Ray said, “I hadn’t seen Lewis for a couple years, but when I heard about him dying, I didn’t like it, and I didn’t like how it happened. I worked with that boy out of youth services. It was a long time ago and he didn’t stay with it, but there it is. Once you’re one of myyoung men, you’re one of my young men. Just like this one.” Ray Depente put a warm steel hand on James Edward’s shoulder and gave him a squeeze. “I tried to point this one toward the Marines but he liked the idea of ships.” Ray and James Edward grinned at each other, and the grins were as warm as the hand.
I said, “The cops say that Lewis was a Double-Seven gangbanger. His mother says no.”
Ray frowned. “Lewis used to mess around with the Double-Sevens, but that was years ago. That’s how he came to me.”
“He ever have anything to do with the Eight-Deuce Gangster Boys?”
“Not that I know.”
“The family filed a wrongful death after Lewis was killed, but James Edward here tells me that a guy named Akeem D’Muere made them back off.”
Ray looked at James Edward again. “You sure?”
James Edward nodded.
I said, “Why would Akeem D’Muere go to bat for a bunch of white LAPD officers?”
Ray shook his head. “I know Akeem. Akeem D’Muere wouldn’t go to bat for anybody unless there’s something in it for him.”
“When Lewis Washington died, every news service in town was looking into it, smelling Rodney King all over again. Maybe Akeem D’Muere wanted all the looking to stop. Maybe there was something going on at the Premier Pawn Shop that he didn’t want anyone to find out.”
“You think?”
I shrugged. “I think there’s a connection. I just don’t know who to ask to find out.”
James Edward said, “That’s why I brought him here, Ray. Figured you’d be the guy to know.”
Ray Depente smiled at James Edward. “You want me to ask around, young mister, I can do that. Know aman who’ll probably be able to help. But you stay away from those Eight-Deuce. The Navy doesn’t teach you what you need to know to mess with that trash.”
James Edward said, “Hell, Ray.”
The strawberry-haired woman came out of the dressing room, showered and changed, and gave Ray a ten-megawatt smile as she bounced out of the gym and into the sunshine. I said, “Pretty.”
Ray said, “Uh-huh.”
An older woman pushed her head out of a little glass cubicle that served as an office at the rear of the gym. She called, “Ray, it’s somebody from Twentieth Century-Fox. They say it’s some kind of emergency and they need you to come over and show Bruce Willis how to do something for a movie they’re making.”
James Edward grinned. “Bruce Willis. Damn.”
Ray didn’t look as thrilled with Bruce Willis as did James Edward. “Now?”
“They said right away.”
James Edward said, “These studio dudes hire Ray to set up fight scenes and teach his moves to their actors. Arnold been here, man. Sly Stallone useta come here.”
Ray shook his head. “I can do it tonight, but I can’t do it now. I’ve got a class coming in, now.”
The woman said, “They said right away”
Ray shook his head. “Movie people.” He called back to her. “Tell’m I gotta pass.”
James Edward Washington gave impressed. “Is this fuckin’ righteous or what? Tellin’ Bruce Willis to pass.”
The older woman went back into the glass
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