and saw a half dozen officers running at him, a hundred yards behind.
He covered the rest of the block at full speed, then turned onto a block of abandoned row houses, each fronted by a cracked concrete stoop under which was an entrance to a basement apartment. Poole ran to the fifth stoop and ducked behind it, chest heaving. A group of rats, picking at some spoiled meat, scattered at his arrival.
The police knew he was somewhere on this block, but it was to his advantage for them not to know exactly where. It was also to his advantage that they did not know that he was unarmed. They would be hesitant to enter the street if they thought he would be able pick them off one by one.
He heard the officers assemble at the corner, but couldn’t make out their conversation over the sound of the rain. Time was crucial. Once adequate reinforcements arrived, they could seal the entire area and take their time ferreting out Poole. Poole had to be quick, but not rash. It was better to take a brief pause to think than to make an irrevocably wrong decision and get caught. Poole leaned back on the concrete and considered his options.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE
Frings followed Samuelson into the forest, the rain coming down in heavy sheets through the trees. Frings wore a borrowed poncho, and the water ran in streams off both men. Frings would not have been able to find the path himself, but following Samuelson, it seemed quite clear. They walked a half mile in silence until Frings caught sight of a clearing up ahead and picked up a familiar scent, even through the rain. Not the smell of the pines or the wet leaves, but a sweet, moist odor.
The trail came to an end between two ancient hemlocks, their foliage so thick that the ground beneath them was nearly dry in the downpour. Samuelson stopped and gestured for Frings to step into the clearing. When he did, the amount of money accounted for in the ledger suddenly made sense.
“Jesus,” Frings whispered. Before him, like a meadow, were acres of marijuana plants. Acres. And around the field, deep forest.
“Welcome,” Samuelson said, holding his arms out to the field, his mouth contorted into a rueful smirk, “to my humble farm.”
“This was Red Henry’s idea?”
“I didn’t say that. Got the word from the cake eater. But, yeah, if it was that guy who came out, then the mayor’s behind it.”
“You’re farming reefer.”
“That’s right. It’s not really farming, though. More like just harvesting. It’s a fucking weed. Throw the seeds into the ground and let them do their own growing. Certain dates, you know they’re coming to make a pickup and you harvest so it’s ready to go.”
“Who comes?” Frings was still stunned by the sheer volume of plants. He imagined being alone here, if only for a moment, and stuffing his pockets full.
“Started off, it was different guys, some white, some colored. Come out on the scheduled day, bring a girl with them, too. You could spend some of your cut on the girl, if that’s your way. Things changed when Vampire took a runner. Waited for a day when they made a pickup, took the cash, and left in his truck. Next day Smith shows up and can’t fucking find him. Comes around to all the rest of us, says where the fuck’s Vampire? Nobody knows, we just guess he screwed, and everyone in their own mind starts thinking that’s maybe not such a bad idea, you know?
“Well, they shipped out some private guards to keep the rest of us in line for a couple of weeks until they found him. You see, what they decided to do was promote a few of the guys, make them responsible for the rest of us. This was when Henry was all close with the Bristols and he made of few of those ginks his men.
“So, of course, Whiskers ended up as leader. Don’t know if they planned it or he just took it over or what. They sent him out after ol’ Vampire, and he got him all right. Cut him up, from what we heard. Used to come around with Vampire’s balls in a mason jar right on the passenger seat of that truck they gave him. Showed them to all of us. No one thought too much about running away after that.
“Some ginks keep making the dope runs and bringing the girls, but Whiskers runs the