“I’m sure we could find them on last night’s security video of the front door,” Tara said and went to cue-up the video for them to review. She fast-forwarded for a while until she saw them.
“They’re not part of The Purple Gang,” Rain said.
“The Purple Gang? Give me a fuckin’ break,” Bobby said. “Where y’all get that shit from?”
“I used to go by the name PR when I was doin’ my thing.” Rain smiled. “You know, Purple Rain. Well niggas started callin’ them The Purple Gang.”
Black laughed. “You never heard of The Purple Gang, Bob?”
“No.”
“Out of Detroit.”
“Detroit?” Rain questioned.
“In the nineteen twenties and early thirties. They controlled the bootleg game in the Midwest. If you wanted to bring liquor across the Detroit River coming out of Canada you had to pay The Purple Gang. They were so bad that when Al Capone tried to expand his thing into Detroit that Capone wouldn’t take them on and decided it was better to buy from The Purple Gang than to fight them.”
“What he do?” Rain asked.
“He formed an alliance with them. As a matter of fact, it was Abe Bernstein, the head of The Purple Gang that called Bugs Moran and told him a hijacked load of liquor was on its way to Chicago and they would deliver it to the garage on North Clark Street. The next day, instead of delivering a load of liquor, five men, two of them dressed as cops opened fire with machine guns, and killed seven men. It became known as the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre.”
“I did not know that,” Rain said.
“Don’t you read history?” Black asked.
“No.”
“Maybe you should.”
“Maybe I will,” Rain said.
“You can learn a lot from history. Game ain’t changed. Rules are different, players are different, but the game stays the same.”
“Okay, kids, history lesson is over for the day. Now can we get back to work here?”
Rain looked at the screen. “Can you zoom in that one?” she asked. Tara did what Rain asked. “I recognize him. I’m sure that’s one of the men that shot Nick in the drive-by.”
“Those are the same guys that have been here every night,” Tara confirmed. They got a picture of him and left Impressions.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Shortly after Black, Bobby and Rain left Cuisine, Wanda arrived with her bodyguards. After she talked to Black, she called Nick. “I was just about to call you,” Nick said to her when he got the call.
“Mike talk to you too?” Wanda asked.
“Yes. We need to talk Wanda.”
“I know. Why don’t you meet me at Cuisine.”
“See you there,” Nick said.
When Wanda arrived at Cuisine, the reception she received from Lexi was less than cordial. She attributed it to the fact that she had never come there with bodyguards. Lexi was at the door when Wanda came in. Her conversation was guarded, at best and afterwards, Lexi went immediately to the bar and spoke to two men. Those men watched her and her men the entire time they sat there waiting for Nick.
Wanda had been there for thirty minutes and was thinking about leaving when Nick finally got there. She was surprised that under the circumstances that he was alone. No bodyguards and no Rain. She hoped that Rain wasn’t there because she was dead. Wanda told her men to wait at the bar. “And I know that I don’t have to tell to you to watch Nick.”
“Naturally,” one said.
“What should we do if he tries anything?” the other asked.