A Gangster and a Gentleman Page 6

  “Scotty, unless Richard dies before our divorce is final, I won’t get anything. Can you believe he would be worth three million dollars to me if he was dead, but if he lives and marries that bitch, I will die poor?”

  “Damn, that’s real tempting. Shit, off a nigga and get three mil? You good, Melody. I would have that nigga on ice fast as lightning,” Scotty replied, letting out a funny, nervous laugh.

  I looked up at him, my eyes still watery. “You serious?” I whispered.

  “Huh?” Scotty asked, his eyebrow furrowed. He moved his arm from around me like I had suddenly transformed into a poisonous snake.

  “I mean, are you serious about it? We could work together, Scotty. You have the street resources to do something like that, and I would make sure you got your money afterward. We could be together forever after shit dies down too. I can’t die broke. He left me with absolutely nothing. I told you I can’t keep living with Paulette,” I said pleadingly.

  Scotty stood up. His hands were out in front of him like he was surrendering. He was shaking his head. “Whoa . . . you a cop or some shit?” he asked, leery. He looked scared.

  I had to think fast to put him at ease. I needed him now more than ever.

  “Would a cop be fucking you on a regular basis? Would a cop be holding divorce papers from a piece of shit who tried to ruin her? C’mon, Scotty. This is the only way we can get the money. I can’t be anywhere near it when it happens or nobody wins. It can be like a car accident, something that won’t bring any suspicion,” I told him. My words were coming out rapid-fire. I was desperate to convince Scotty. It was my only chance. Scotty seemed to relax a bit. He was rubbing his chin. I could tell he was contemplating it.

  “You dead-ass serious, ain’t you?” Scotty asked, sitting back down on the couch.

  “I am the sole beneficiary on a three-million-dollar insurance policy. I am as serious as fucking cancer,” I said sternly. “I am willing to give you one million,” I said, looking Scotty directly in the eye so he knew I was serious and sincere.

  His eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. “Well, fuck, let’s do it then,” Scotty exclaimed, clapping his hands. “Shit, I done mirked niggas for far less cake than a mil,” Scotty told me.

  I smiled. All of my hard work in recruiting his ass had paid off. Scotty was down for the plan, and I didn’t even have to badger him into it. I immediately started explaining to him some of the ways it could go down without drawing suspicion. We hashed out our plan, and we even came up with a plan B just in case. I explained to Scotty that he would have to lie low and stay away from me for a while after he took care of Richard. I told him that if anything happened to Richard, the first person the police would come see was me. It was just the natural order of things; spouses were always the first suspects. Scotty said he understood, after he fucked my brains out right there in Paulette’s living room.

  I had to bring the insurance paperwork down from the guest room and show Scotty that I meant business. It was a good thing I had been able to call National Benefit Life and get a copy of the policy a couple of weeks prior. Scotty was a full believer after he reviewed the paperwork and saw that I was indeed the sole beneficiary on the three-million-dollar policy. I had him on my side. Now all I had to do was trust that soon, Richard and his bitch, Christina, would no longer be a problem.

  6

  I couldn’t sleep for the three days that I hadn’t heard back from Scotty. All types of things ran through my head. First, I thought he might’ve gone to the police and snitched on me. I quickly dismissed that idea when I remembered that Scotty despised the police. Next, I thought Richard might’ve figured shit out or that he was out of town and couldn’t be found to carry out the plan. Lastly, I thought Scotty just had a change of heart and I would never hear from him again. After the fourth day of no contact, I finally got the news.

  Paulette’s house phone rang and I didn’t answer it. Generally, I didn’t make a practice of answering her phone just in case our mother called. I had no desire to speak to that bitch. But the calls continued to come so frequently that I grew suspicious and finally walked over to the base and looked at the caller ID. It was Paulette calling. I picked up.

  “Melody!” Paulette screeched on the other end of the line.

  Her shrieking voice sent a pang of fear through my body. “Paulie, what’s the matter?” I huffed, not realizing I had placed my hand over my heart.

  “It’s Richard! I was in the ER and they just brought him in. Melody, I don’t think he’s going to make it,” Paulette told me. She wasn’t crying, but she was frantic.

  “What do you mean? What happened?” I gasped, feigning concern and shock.

  “He was in a horrible accident. They said a woman was in the car with him. They both might not make it,” Paulette relayed.

  An evil smile spread across my face. I could just fucking kiss Scotty if he was in front of me. He had followed the plan.

  “Oh my God! I can’t believe this,” I replied, still acting as if I were in shock. I started to whimper like I was crying. Paulette would have no way of knowing they were tears of joy.

  “I think you’re his only next of kin since you’re still legally his wife. I know Richard did some dirty deeds, Melody, but I think you should come down here right away. The situation is pretty bad, and these doctors are going to be looking for someone to talk to very soon,” Paulette said gravely.

  “I’ll be there. Like you said, I am his next of kin,” I said in a low whisper. Hell yeah I was going there. I wanted to be the first to get the news of Richard’s demise, which meant I was about to come into some huge cash flow. I had dollar signs flashing in my eyes as I quickly slipped into my clothes. Paulette had been leaving me her car and carpooling to the hospital for work, which was a good thing. My hands were shaking like crazy. It was one part excitement and one part fear. I just needed everything to go smoothly and I would be a rich woman very soon.

  When I arrived at Sentara Leigh Hospital by taxi, I have to admit I could no longer control the tremors that had taken over my entire body. I had to even suck in my bottom lip to keep my teeth from chattering. I guess the shakes were good; it made for a better show as the distressed wife.

  Paulette greeted me with a tight hug and a low whisper: “I’m so sorry. I’m here for you.” She ushered me to a waiting area. She hugged me tightly for the second time and told me she was going to get the doctor to come in and talk to me. Paulette returned with the doctor who’d treated Richard.

  “Mrs. Goldman, I am Dr. Ruskin,” he said, extending his hand. I was impressed that he was a tall, handsome, black doctor. I gave him one of my sweaty palms and dabbed at my eyes with the other hand. He exhaled and lowered his eyes. “I’m very sorry, Mrs. Goldman. Your husband did not make it. His internal injuries were too grave, and it didn’t make sense to operate,” Dr. Ruskin said sorrowfully. I put my hand over my mouth and stumbled backward. It was an Academy Award–worthy performance if I do say so myself. Paulette helped me ease into a chair.

  “Shhh,” Paulette comforted, and I sobbed. I had to cover my eyes with the tissue to hide the fact that there were no real tears coming out.

  “I know this is very hard,” the doctor said, placing a soothing hand on my shoulder.

  “Are there any details of how this happened?” I asked, muffling my voice and face behind the tissues. I wanted to know how Scotty had pulled it off.

  “Well, the police are conducting an investigation. Your husband and what appeared to be his colleague were traveling together. The police can probably tell you better than I can exactly what happened out there,” Dr. Ruskin explained, squeezing my shoulder. I swear, if I wasn’t doing such a good acting job, I would’ve smiled. Dr. Ruskin excused himself, saying he had to make some notifications and speak to the “other” family. Christina Cox’s family had arrived at the hospital right after me. I couldn’t feel sorry for their home-wrecking daughter. Fuck her and her family.

  Paulette offered to leave w
ork early and drive me home. I thought it was best that she did too. It just made it all more believable. I figured if anyone ever came questioning me, Paulette would be able to say I was at her home when the accident happened. She would be able to testify about how distraught I was to find out the news, and she would also be able to say she’d stayed with me the entire night after I got the news of Richard’s death. I leaned on Paulette as if I were unable to walk. She helped me to the car, all the while comforting me. A few of her nurse friends came up to us and offered their condolences. I croaked out “thank you” and “that’s very kind of you” a few times. Inside, I couldn’t wait to get to the fucking car. Enough was enough. Shit, I wanted to be in private so I could fucking celebrate all alone!

  “Isn’t it just crazy how things happen, Mel? I mean, Richard did you so wrong the past few months. He tried to leave you penniless, cheated on you, just left you for dead. Look how God can turn the tables. Who would think that he would be the one left for dead for real with the same woman he did you wrong with. It’s like karma just wrapped itself around his ass and that was it. So tragic,” Paulette said once we got into her car.

  She was so right. Things always had a way of working themselves out.

  “It is crazy. But I am a firm believer in what goes around comes around,” I said with no tears and no remorse. I had done a complete 360 from the crying, sniveling wife. I knew my words sounded harsh and angry, but I just didn’t care anymore. Paulette shot me a look. I could see her out of my peripheral vision, but I just stared straight ahead. I wasn’t going to pretend that I was mourning anymore.

  As soon as we pulled into the parking lot of Paulette’s condo, my heart felt like it had seized in my chest. Scotty was standing outside, pacing nervously. This motherfucker just looked guilty. I got cold inside as feelings of dread mixed with anger filled me up. What the fuck is he thinking? I screamed inside my head. I could only hope at that point that Scotty wouldn’t be dumb enough to say shit in front of Paulette. Paulette got out of the car first. I opened the passenger side door slowly. Paulette was all over it within minutes. She hated Scotty; we all knew this. Seeing him there at a time like this sent her over the stop. She stalked over to where Scotty was standing.

  “Look, my sister just found out that her husband is dead. She’s not up for no ghetto trash today, so visit her another time! Or better yet, get the fuck out of her life for good and let her heal properly!” Paulette yelled at Scotty, jutting her pointer finger at him like a mother chastising a child.

  I saw the look on his face turn dark, evil even. I had to intervene before Scotty said something we would both regret. I rushed over to them and got in between them.

  “It’s okay, Paulette. Really, I’m fine. You . . . you go inside and let me just explain everything to Scotty,” I stammered. My nerves were standing on edge. I gave Scotty a look that said, Keep your fucking mouth shut. He laughed at Paulette. Then he screwed his face up and spit on the ground next to where she was standing. He just barely missed spitting on her hospital clogs.

  “I think your sister is a big girl. Let her tell me she don’t wanna see me. You should mind your own business. . . . Oh wait, you ain’t got no man, so you don’t have no business,” Scotty said cruelly.

  Paulette pursed her lips and was ready to go in on him. I pushed her along.

  “Really, Paulette, I got this. Go inside. I’ll only be a minute.” She rolled her eyes and reluctantly began walking away.

  “Fucking loser,” Paulette grumbled as she turned and headed inside.

  I stormed over to Scotty. “What are you doing here so soon?” I hissed, looking around suspiciously. All of the street smarts in the world couldn’t explain his dumb-ass behavior right then.

  He squinted his eyes into dashes and got real close to me for emphasis. “I just wanna make sure you know I kept my part of the deal. I’ma give you until next week to tell me when the insurance company gonna pay out and when I’ma get my loot,” Scotty whispered, holding on to my arm roughly.

  I could smell that he had been drinking and smoking weed as the scent of his breath shot up my nose and straight to the back of my throat.

  “I’m going to keep up my part of the deal. Now, you need to be fucking smart and lie low, stay away from here. Trust me, the cops will be coming to see me today or tomorrow. We can discuss the details later when the heat of everything dies down. I will come find you, trust me,” I growled.

  I saw a few people walking down the street. They were Paulette’s nosy-ass neighbors. I had to think quickly on my feet. I leaned into Scotty’s chest and acted as if I were crying. I wanted to make sure that if those neighbors were watching, they got a good show. They would only be able to tell the cops that in the days after Richard’s untimely death, they had observed me being nothing but torn up. Besides, I was still the distraught widow who had just found out her husband was dead.

  Scotty let me play my role. Then he embraced me and squeezed me tight. “Don’t fucking play any games. I am not the one to be fucked with, Melody,” he gritted in my ear. I nodded. “Take this phone and make sure you stay in contact with me. If I don’t hear from you soon, I will be back,” he whispered harshly, placing a small prepaid cell phone into the back pocket of my jeans. My heart was racing painfully against my chest. I was starting to think maybe Scotty was too much of a gangsta to get into business with.

  The days after Richard’s death were like a media whirlwind.

  The newspapers were reporting headlines such as ATTORNEY TO THE STARS KILLED IN CRASH, and ATTORNEY AND HIS ALLEGED MISTRESS DEAD IN HORRIBLE CAR CRASH, and the best one of all, FAMED CRIMINAL DEFENSE ATTORNEY AND HIS LOVER MAY HAVE SUFFERED A KARMIC FATE. I had been keeping up with all of the news reports while I set about planning Richard’s memorial service. Some were saying that Richard’s death might’ve been foul play, but thankfully, none of them had named me as a potential suspect. Also, thankfully, I had put in my claim in the insurance company before all of this shit broke in the news.

  Just like I expected, the homicide police detectives came knocking. I wasn’t shocked to see them; in fact, I had been practicing my spiel, my behavior, and my instant ability to cry. There were two detectives, one male and one female. I instantly didn’t like the female. I didn’t like her tone or the way she kept looking at me like I was guilty. They asked me a slew of questions, all of which had to do with my whereabouts on the day that Richard and Christina crashed.

  Once they were convinced that I had an alibi, they started asking questions about the recent goings-on between myself and Richard. The female detective seemed to key in during this line of questioning. Her tone was plain and simply accusatory. I had the jilted, cheated-on wife syndrome down pat. I used my ability to cry on cue as I told them the story. I played the distraught role very well. From what I could tell, the male detective didn’t seem suspicious, but the female still gave me the chills. She just wouldn’t let the fuck up. I wasn’t going to let her break me, though. I kept up my act. The male detective, who seemed to feel sorry for me, did finally tell me that the brakes on Richard’s Jaguar might have been cut. He also said that Richard’s female companion, who I knew was Christina, had apparently suffered a gunshot wound to the head prior to the accident. The detective threw it out there that they were looking into a possible murder-suicide theory. The word suicide made my heart rate speed up. Suicide would mean no insurance payout. The detectives kept talking, but those little pieces of information they had given me had made my stomach cramp. I was finding it hard to keep my cool, but surprisingly enough, I did.

  “Who would do something like that?” I asked, feigned shock lacing my words. I shook my head and acted as if I were searching the recesses of my mind to help them. “I didn’t know my husband to have many enemies,” I informed them. The detectives asked me if I thought any of the “thuggish” rappers Richard represented would want to hurt him. It felt like a lightbulb went off above my head like in the cartoons. That was a great road of suspi
cion to send them down. How stupid could they be? I took their suspicion and fucking ran with it.

  “Well, I do remember this guy, a rapper named Hard Rock, arguing with Richard because he hadn’t beat his last aggravated assault and gun charges. Richard had seemed very stressed out after dealing with that guy. I remember feeling that our safety might be in jeopardy as well. Richard told me that guy was a pathological liar and he was dangerous,” I lied, adding shit to the story that I knew they could never verify. “You don’t think he . . . ?” I asked, widening my eyes and placing my hand on my chest in a clutch-the-pearls manner. “Do you think Hard Rock would have done something to Richard? I mean, they told me he died in an accident,” I said. I covered my face and began to cry again.

  “We’re sorry for dredging up these feelings, Mrs. Goldman. We are just trying to make sure we do our best to rule out everything,” the male detective said apologetically.

  “Everything is a possibility. All we know is that your husband’s death might have been foul play. It doesn’t seem to us to be a regular car accident,” the female chimed in dryly, understating the circumstances. She acted like she wasn’t buying my behavior or my story. If it wouldn’t have blown my act, I would’ve cursed that bitch out. “Mr. Goldman didn’t stand a chance in that car,” the female followed up. She clapped her memo pad shut and rolled her eyes. “We’ll be in touch,” she said, standing up like she had run out of patience.

  The male detective followed her lead. My insides were churning from nerves.

  “Um . . . please keep me abreast of the developments,” I said in a shaky voice. A fine sheen of sweat broke out on my forehead and some rolled down my back. I guess every plan had a snafu. I just prayed that this little investigation wouldn’t hold up my insurance check. Now it was all about waiting for them to deliver the money.