Part 23 (1/2)
Sun rolled his eyes. ”What you want to know?”
”Anything.”
”Okay,” said Sun. ”It was called the Twister Special when it came out. The factory put a decal on the side so you knew; it was supposed to look like a tornado or something, ran from the front to the rear quarter panels. It was a very fast car. The stock engine was a four twenty-nine, SCJ.”
Stefanos smiled like David Janssen and scribbled in his notebook. ”G.o.dd.a.m.n, Jerry. Anything else?”
”Ford only made ninety of that particular car. I'd call that a very limited edition. A car like that, it shouldn't be so hard to find.”
”Keep going.”
”I only saw it go by quick, but from what I saw the car was in perfect condition. Like it had been garaged. Or restored.”
Stefanos looked at Sun with admiration. ”Why didn't you tell me the first time around?”
”You didn't ask. Smart guy like you, I was wondering when you were going to get around to it.”
”That car you saw. You know whose car that was, Jerry?”
”No idea. I'm serious about that, too.”
”Tags?”
”Like I told you before. No tags.”
”I guess Anna was right about you guys.”
”Yeah, I been jacking off to Motor Trend Motor Trend since I was nine years old.” since I was nine years old.”
”Doin' your own viscosity tests, huh?”
”I gotta run, Stefanos.”
”Okay. Say, I'm kinda hungry. How is is the steak and cheese here, Jerry?” the steak and cheese here, Jerry?”
”I wouldn't recommend it. Tastes like dog s.h.i.+t, you want to know the truth.”
Sun turned and walked back toward the rear kitchen entrance.
”Hey, thanks,” said Stefanos. Sun waved over his shoulder and went through the door.
On Kennedy, Stefanos dropped a quarter and a dime into the pay phone slot. He lit a cigarette, got Elaine's a.s.sistant, waited for Elaine to get on the line.
”Nick, what's going on?”
”I talked to Terrence Mitch.e.l.l. It's not that he doesn't remember if Randy and his daughter went out the night of the murder. He does remember, but he won't testify to it. He'd rather get that drug dealer out of his daughter's life than get him off. He told me straight up that he'd lie.”
”Nice. That means we're -”
”f.u.c.ked. It also means Randy Weston's innocent. I know that now. And the car thing? The Torino's real. I got a line on it from Jerry Sun, the guy who runs the Chinese joint down here in the neighborhood. The car's a special model, Elaine. We should be able to track it down, despite the fact that it was out there without tags that night.”
”Give me the details. I'll get our people to run it through the system.”
Stefanos read off the information Sun had given him.
”This could be what breaks this,” said Elaine. ”Nice work.”
”Thanks. In the meantime, I can check with some mechanics. Ford restorationists, specialists. Car like that, they'd remember it.”
”Hold on a second, Nick.”
Stefanos dragged on his Camel. He double-dragged and watched his smoke dissipate in the wind.
”All right,” said Elaine, ”I'm back. Was looking for my address book.... Here it is. Marcus has this friend, Dimitri knows him, too, works on old Continentals exclusively. Genuine tough guy, a Truck Turner type, has a garage over in the Brookland area. I've got his number right here.”
”What's his name?”
”Al Adamson,” said Elaine. ”Say Marcus hooked you up.”
”There goes Strickland,” said Marcus Clay. ”Gonna go right in on Shaq, challenge his wide a.s.s.”
”Man is fearless,” said Dimitri Karras.
The crowd at the MCI Center cheered as Rod Strickland sunk the layup. Karras and Clay slapped each other five.
”Rod,” said Karras with admiration. ”Best point guard in the East.”
”Might be the best guard in the NBA, you ask me. The man sees the entire floor. He can dish without telegraphing, and he can take it to the hole at will. And what I really like is, he's got the fire. The rest of the Wizards had that fire, we'd hear the fat lady sing again, you can believe that.”
”Webber can do it.”
”When he wants to,” said Clay, ”C. Webb can do it all. That young man's got more natural ability than I've seen on anyone in a long while. But look right there.”
Webber had dropped away from the rest of the defense and was walking backward, slowly, toward the half-court line.
”He's always lookin' to leak out for that fast break,” said Clay, ”when he should be cras.h.i.+ng those boards.”
”You can't blame that on Webber entirely. That's a coaching thing right there.”
Karras clapped at a Calbert Cheaney jumper that made the nylon dance. His elbow knocked Clay's, causing him to spill beer on his chin.
”Hey, watch it, man.”
”Sorry.”
”You just spilled about two dollars' worth of my five-dollar beer.”
”Yeah, good thing you and I never did drink too much. We'd go broke in this place.”
Clay looked around. ”It's beautiful, though, isn't it? Finally got us our own venue in the city.”