Voyage meet Village fullegee. I sat across from Tony heart racing, trying not
to think about what I'd put into motion and what he'd think if he knew
the truth. She's dead. Three slugs in the chests tend to do that
to people, She said, maybe destiny herself. Does that make any sense
to you? I looked Tony dead in his eyes and lied to his face.
No, Reggie searched this heavy shopping bag Monserie carried. She had cash,
lots of it. There were three more bags of its stowed in a
bedroom closet, tens of thousands, easy drug money. Did you call the
police? I saw the sunrise out the seven three precinct window. Tony's bleary
eyes affirmed his story. I knew Tony had many personal relationships law enforcement.
If he hadn't, he likely wouldn't be sitting here. Did I ever tell
you my real name? No? You never told me, squat, But
I looked you up. Tony smiled. That shows a definite attraction to your
future man. Interest in I noticed you didn't deny your future man pot Keep
dreaming, big boy, I've got my man. You don't want to be
missus Manitopolis, our Terro Manitopolis. Can't imagine why you changed it. I
shouldn't have. Greeks are the great philosophers. Oh, of course, Plato,
Aristotle you everyone knows that, and you're still Greek. Born in Astoria,
family moved to Brooklyn when you were three years old, went to the
public schools, graduated high school at seventeen, worked at a fast food dump
at eighteen, legally changed your name and enlisted in the US Army. Yeah,
I thought it had toughened me up. Tony was no pushover, but
he was soft in some ways. I found myself wondering if he would still
be so enamored at me if he knew who I really was. You think
Destiny has handled up with drug dealers one way or another. Victim perpetrator,
both gonna find out. Did she have a best friend, a boyfriend?
People she runs with, sure, but no one that seems like they'd have
anything to do with this. How about a white guy, tall, lean,
well groomed. Now where does that description come from? I showed a
picture around the neighborhood. Brian Rogers, You're kidding, Chair of the psych
department. Tony wrote his name down on a small pad. He always carried
former chair. He's the one that hired me. What was she doing with
him discussing psychology? I presume he's a brilliant teacher. So where'd you see
him in the hall outside Brian's classroom. There was a semester when I'd be
hurrying from my practice to class and they'd be talking after his class ended.
You stopped and chatted many times. Yeah, briefly I had to get to
class. Did they say to each other? I was just saying hi,
I told us Sinacier tomorrow, exciting stuff like that. They didn't say anything
to each other. His eyes hardened as he stared at me, scrutinizing my
demeanor, my tone, my body language. But he didn't know anything.
Really, what would happen when he did? He would never forgive me.
I wanted to tell him everything. I wanted to tell him how this all
started and my part in it, but the words wouldn't come out of my
mouth. No, I was just there for a second. They said hi
to me. No one else comes to mind that I should look at Taylor
McAdams. You just remember that. Yes, I was sick to my stomach.
I just needed him to find destiny, not learned her life story,
but he wouldn't stop. So who's Taylor McAdams? A student? Smart,
pretty, foul mouth, troubled criminal family. Oh nice recommendation. What about
it? They were in my class together A number of times. I saw
them speak after class. I don't know that's okay. I'll find that.
You'll need me to identify her. What I need is for you to tell
me the truth. He was smart enough to know something was wrong. A
second I told him what I had done, he'd be gone, and no
one else was good enough to find destiny and kind enough to want to You
got something to say, say it. Let me help you. I'll go
home and change pick you up front entrance in forty minutes, time enough for
me to get Reggie. Hi, Reggie, you can push the seat all
the way back. Reggie was six to five, two hundred and forty pounds.
I remembered from the announcer at one of his boxing matches. My car
was of average size. Reggie made it look like a clown car. I
put the car in drying. Who are we pursuing Taylor McAdams? Enlighten me,
Lisa. She's a student at Brooklyn University knows Destiny has a brother inside
for armed robbery, and the rest is just rumor? What is the rumor?
Father abandoned the kids, mother has a drug problem. You seem to
know a hell of a lot about this kid. Now hear stuff from Brian.
You know where she lives. Guess where we're going. We made the
lights and got there fast, slowly we slid past the address. A wooden
fence devoid of one thirded slats sagged around the property. Trash bags and junk,
rusted appliance sat forlornly outside of the fence. An uncut grass grew in
the front yard, and thin and irregular like weeds. The house was a
brown bungalow with paint peeling off its side facade. A distinct smell of slow
rot was in the air. What a lovely vacation, spy fun for the
whole white trash family. We circled the block and parked across the street.
Who's knocking on the door? Nobody? We watch and wait why? Because
a family like that, she's more likely to lead us to persons of interest
than tell us, Tony, you have a magnet for zimbray. You would
have made a great professor. We waited. It was past six thirty,
it had been a cloudy day, and it was dark. Lights were on
in the bungalow. At eight o'clock, a middle aged woman came out.
She was painfully thin, with reddish hair going gray. She wore a shapeless
coat over what looked like a robe. The dog she walked with some kind
of terrier who looked healthier than her, and who barked at anything that moved.
She went back inside, and we waited for long minutes. Nothing moved
on the block. Reggie looked forlornly out the window. Detective work is too
exciting for most people. Fortunately, I can stand the stray. Nine o'clock
came and went, and then ninety scrawny cat nosed through the mcadam's garbage bags.
The front door opened. There she is Taylor, a slender redhead maybe
twenty one, stepped through the door. She wore a denim jacket and jeans.
Her hair was up in a bun. She carried a large cloth shopping
bag. She turned left out of her house in the opposite direction from us,
walked three doors down, got into a battered brown sedan and fired up.
She pulled away from the curb. Her left tail light was out.
I let her reach the corner and took off after her. We rolled out
as Taylor left turned onto the avenue. A game Taylor's zigzag through traffic and
we followed two or three cars back. The missing tail light made her easy
to follow. She's going up to that dive on the creek opens onto Jamaica
Bay, point of mariners, water, rats, drunks, and local tufts.
It's pretty clannished, so they're now welcoming of outsiders. It's avoided by
cops who let the folks inside resolve their own disputes, often with knives and
brass knuttles. What a perfect spot for a nightcap. Taylor is going there
for the ambia. A working girl would be my guess. We eased into
the gravel parking lot at the bar. The dump sat partly on solid ground
and partly on pilings built into the brackish creek. The smell of tar rotting
pilings dead fish filled the air. With the cold march breeze delivered a fresher
scent off the ocean a mere several miles away across the widened bay. The
bar's gruffled exterior almost seemed welcoming. Reggie pulled his knit cap low over his
forehead and donned the aviators and hunkered down like he was six inches shorter.
We crossed the lot and Reggie and Tony stopped inside. I waited for them
outside. I checked the slim line automatic pistol in my jacket. Tony and
Reggie didn't know I was carrying. To be fair, they didn't ask.
I knew Tony would learn the truth eventually. I just hoped he'd find destiny
before then. I knew this was the kind of bar where I wouldn't even
on the person with the gun. I meant Tony needed my help, don't.
I pointed my pistol at the bouncer's chest. He had a hand in
his jacket going for a gun. Another local had clearly come to Taylor's defense
and stood half cocked over Tony, who looked like he'd already taken a couple
of punches to the face. I felt pride and shame at the fact that
my hands, as always in situations like this, were completely steady. Slowly
your hand out of the jacket, or the last thing you see is his
dirty floor with a relaxed smile. The hunk of muscle did as he was
told. He held his hands in the air. Boys, it might be
time to leave. Tony gesture to the owner posted up at the end of
the bar. Nice place. I'll be sure to recommend him. Reggie and
Tony advanced to the door. Lovely to see you again, Taylor. I
smiled at Taylor. Taylor looked ready to hurl an avalanche of the sadies,
but didn't say a word. We stepped outside into the cold air. I
still held the gun in my right hand. With my left I took Tony's
arm. You sure know how to make a girl feel special. I noticed
a bruise on his cheek starting to form where he got punched by the local
tough Tony. I'm thinking it would be best if we decant. I gave
Reggie my keys. He got behind the wheel, Tony and I got in
the back. Reggie roared out of a lot. My hands probed Tony's face
gently for a break. We need ice on this. It's just a bruise,
Honny, I'm fine. And the rear view Reggie spotted my hands on
Tony's cheek. All in all, I think Tony should be thanking the goon
that swattered them. Who's next, Let's get home. Champ five am arrives
quickly, too quickly from my sparing partners. Why do any of them get
in the ring with you? They heavily armor, heavily pay. Oh,
I must learn stuff. I mean they learned his best to dub. After
a moment of genial silence, Reggie got serious. That wasn't a college football
washout. Balancing at that bar. I could tell by the way he carried
himself. Former military probably specializes for somebody Russia. How do you know he
was Russian? First? The accent was Russian. He talked before you came
in my intelligence outfit on leave, A few of us spent ten days of
Russian, talked to a lot of Russians, spoke English. Second, did
you notice the tat on his neck? No, I was looking at his
hands. Wise, Champ looked like a wolf. It was emblem of the
Killer Wolves, an elite outfit of the Specs. Not actually they're a biker
gang, but they have former commando members. The way he carried himself,
you're right, and his calm when Lisa had him seconds from death, He's
seen combat, lots of it and desperate struggles of that former commando for sure.
What's he doing here? How many working girls can't be Jesse Taylor?
There must be more in the back rooms, or they work different shifts or
nights, so it's a big time operation. Different dives and dumps all the
way from Coney Island to the Queen's Line, probably skirting the line of the
bay. Our friend wasn't the bouncer. He's the local sales manager, would
be my guess, making the rounds on a weeknight. We were lucky enough
to hit the joint when he was there. He's not the brains of the
outfit, just the chief muscle. Who's he working for? Russian mafia?
Without a doubt? We were quiet. All we could hear was the thrumb
of the tires as Reggie drove. Who wants bitch enemies? Anyway? My
Upper west Side lady, you have a hell of a way with words.
You're forgetting my teenage years. Will you handle a gun? I won't forget
it again. We approached Reggie's apartment, Who's added a light a block and
a half from Reggie's building in the rear view. He caught my eyes,
Lisas there's some connection between Taylor and Destiny. They know each other from my
course, nothing more, Tony, what do you think? Nothing more?
Destiny hooked up with drugs, Taylor with prostitution, Destiny with the cartel,
Taylor with the Russian mafia. They don't responding. Some gangs is dabbling both.
Muldoon had an Irish mob in Hell's kitchen. Certainly does true, but
the Irish mob is diversified in different businesses. The cartel specializes one product and
they do it superbly. We pulled up in front of Reggie's building. Reggie
left it running and leaned back over the driver's seat. What is Destiny is
moonlighting for the Russians? Too dangerous? She disappeared. Reggie looked carefully at
Tony and I Tony she did. Tony had no response. I had no
response. I dared say aloud. Reggie eases through the narrow door and out
onto the sidewalk. It rained. I drove Tony into his place. So
Taylor can't help us on this case. Probably not, but we'll circle back
to her later. Meantime, I'll follow up the lead. I'm sorry I
let you in a false direction. I truly was sorry. Sometimes you stumbled
down a blind alley and get punched in the face. But I'm glad you
were hid to night, Lisa, I'm glad I was too. Tony took
my right hand in his. I didn't resist and drove with my left.
Would you learn to handle a gun like that? Where was in Hell's kitchen?
The real question is from home, okay, from whom Stevie Savage?
Who my first love? I was seventeen hearing that he released my hand?
Who was he drug dealer in Hell's kitchen? Yes? So how did the
megabright kid it would grow up to be a PhD in psychology and an expert
psycho therapist get tangled up with street thugs and drug dealers? My parents had
met at your all, the modern Tony At Princeton, I was an only
child. I was sent to New York City's most exclusive prep schools. Expectations
were high, pressure, remorseless. I did very well until I got sick
of it, you rebel. I was sixteen, seventeen at planned, I'm
going to Stanford, maybe Harvard. I had the grades to get in,
we valedictorian, all that stuff, and then I just didn't care what you
do. I had undo a lot of fights. My teacher on the Upper
west Side. Tell my parents there was a devil inside me. If there
was, I was born with it. My parents gave me far too much
love to be responsible for it. I played basketball all the time in Riverside
Park near my house. They're bad boys were there. Their leader, tall,
lean man, big knuckled hands. Showed me a fifty bag of blow
in his pocket. He had dark eyes, dark blonde hair. Stevie Savage.
We smoked dope. He introduced me to blow. We did the West
Side clubs. We stayed out all night. Love blossoms among the drug dealers.
I eventually came to my senses. How long did that day? Three?
Maybe four years? Stevie and I. Stevie Savage, that his name.
He was twenty one when I met him. Was hooked in with the
Irish mob. In Hell's Kitchen. Terrence Muldoon's crowd bought off rival thugs,
brutally packed a brace of forty fives and twin shoulder holsters under windbreaker or leather
jacket. They were not for show. Believe me, Stevie Savage today,
bone Yard or the joint. He's a lawyer, silly Steven Savage dealing put
him through Fordham Law. He's a hot shot, some big firm in the
city. So what happened between the two of you? Yeah, it's never
gonna last forever. I'd always known it. Stevie two A couple of years
my next birthday, it would be my twenty first. There was time I
pulled in across the road from Tony's walk in apartment. I reached my right
hand across the seat and took Tony's near remind me of him. After that,
I didn't move, I didn't speak, neither did he. His hand
was still in mind. Lisa, how are things with Nikki? I mean
really not good. You're sleeping in separate bedrooms. Yeah, for several years,
he said, my other hand and gently pulled me to him. He
kissed me. I responded for a moment, but only a moment. Tony.
I can't soon, Lisa, We'll waste in our lives. You need
sleep. How will you find Destiny? Oh? Reggie and I asked around
at Betsy Head Park. We think a guy there, Blaze, knows what
Destiny and Monsourie were up to. Basically, we're going to kidnap a drug
dealer and beat him for nation out of him. O fun, Can I
help sure? Bring Stevie Savage in his brace of forty five's Tony was joking,
but I did bring Stevie. We picked him up the next night in
front of his building heln drugs bas Tony admired the Doorman building and the unscaled
of cord. So there's lawyerer. Stevie shook Tony's hand. He had a
double make care smile. He was in his mid forties but looked thirty.
He was tall and lean as a ray pier, taller than Tony, which
Tony seemed annoyed by. He had mischief etched in his eyes. He wore
a black turtleneck, battered brown leather jacket, black jeans, and dark running
shoes. He looked ready to command a squadron of US Navy fighter jets.
All he needed was the scarf. I jumped into his arms. Tony turned
away. I didn't do it to make Tony jealous. Steve and I had
history. Stevie recognized Reggie Reggie h r D. I've seen you fight at
the garden, but I ain't check James Bonk crushes Smith three times in the
second round. He was tough, but not tough enough. Well, I
SHO, didn't know your champ. We headed to betsy Head Park. The
dealer we were after Blaze had a diamond chain in the shape of a crowd.
I pulled my slim line automatic cystol out of my jacket. We spread
out and stalked through the park. The avenue was to avoid a foot traffic
and just a loose crew of dealers chatting. A dark suv approach from the
opposite direction. It's passenger side window rolled down an A R fifteen thrust through
the open window, and for a flash of time, everything came to a
standstill, and then with a grating roar, the auto cut loose, spitting
naked steel at the dealers. I hit the deck, my chin, scraping
pavement, stunning me. The AR fifteen hit its tar. I get the
blaze so much for our source. Multiple slugs tore his chest, spinning him,
driving him backward, hurtling him to the cold sidewalk, where he lay
on his back unmoving. I hugged the ground, hands around my head,
and then the suv picked up speed and the thunderous noise ceased. I crawled
toward blaze. Reggie was already crouched by his side. Reggie shook his head,
he's gone. From behind me. I heard the roar of a heavy
handgun firing multiple shots at the rear of the accelerating death car on the ground.
I whirled Stevie Savage crouched on one knee, held a heavy forty five
and two hands, and pumped round after round into the vehicle's tires. Tires
burst with an explosive snap. The suv careened wildly, skid past my car,
slammed at high speed into a parked vehicle two cars in front. I
was on my feet, racing towards Stevie. The driver of the death car
was thrown clear the impact with the ground on his back with a sickening thud,
and lay still. The day's shooter staggered from the vehicle, still clutching
the ar but down by his side. He struggled to stand upright. I
was five feet away. I held my pistol lined up on his chest in
a two handed grip, drop it. The ar cladded to the ground.
The shooter leaned against the car, steadying himself When he looked up and focused,
he raised his hands in surrender. He took a step forward, and
then he swung a wild right hand at my head. I ducked under him
and came up swinging. I laid the barrel of my pistol hard across his
temple. He fell back against the wrecked car and slid down its surface to
the asphalt. Rachel came up to me. He reached down and hoisted the
unconscious shooter to his feet. Form Stevie and Tony conferred over the driver's body.
Driver is not gonna make you. Lights were starting to come on in
the surrounding buildings. Tony strode around the vehicle, get him in the call
let's get the hell out of here. We stuffed the shooter in the back
between Reggie and Stevie, fired up, angled out, and searched on to
the avenue. Stevie was talking to the nine one one dispatcher by Betsy had
need mt quickly. Yeah, I'll be here. My name Errol Flynn.
We drove off, certainly having committed multiple felonies. The murderer in the backseat.
It might be our best shot at finding destiny. Redmead Village is a
production of Voyage Media. The series is produced by Nat Mondel, Robert Midas,
and Dan Bennamore, directed, produced, and adapted by Dan Bennimore,
based on Andrew Bernstein's upcoming novel at the same name. When a link to
the novel is available, it will be listed in the show notes. Starring
Catherine Bell as Lisa, Malik Yoba as Reggie, and Ryan Heavy as Tony.
Additional cast credits are available in show notes. Edited sound design and mixed
by Nick Missi, original music by Derlas Gonzalez. If you're enjoying the show,
please leave us a five star review and Apple Podcasts or anywhere you're listening,
and subscribe now for future episodes.