Link to: The Playlist

the Narrator

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The Cast

Valerie "Memphis Blue" Walker

Ms. Valeria Walker

Luca "King of Rock" Cabretti

Elvis "Rock 'n' Roll" Philinganes

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"To all my homey's on Cell Block D, "the King of Rock" I shall forever be"

Smokin' Memphis Blue

*

Funny how a five to ten stint can make a man feel 'lucky' enough to shake loose the biggest missing piece from the archives of famous criminal masterminds of all time.  I suppose what awaited "Rock n Roll" on the outside of those thick mortared walls gave him promise.  Hell he vested nearly a half million for protection to keep the girls off his ass and the Aryans from carving vectors on his back.  He'd promised a hefty penny for all of that protection.  The promise that once he walked out from the wall he'd restock the personal accounts of nearly half a dozen inmates who silently crowned him prince of thieves made him feel royal.  You could tell he wasn't from around here because of the way he dropped the 'g' on the end of his words when he started talking really fast. At times he would call his boy "King" and then "Keen".  But I followed him well as he told this story. Too bad.  If he'd only kept his parting gift-then the canary sonnet might not have turned out to be his swan song.

So here it goes.

Nothing is sacred.  There's no honor amongst thieves.  The moment you tell someone 'don't say anything' that bequeaths them the honor to share it anyway, so why bother.  Better yet, just keep your fucking mouth closed.  I remember the few days I spent in the now defunct Jackson State Prison.  Like all prisons, a small subsidy of some notorious street gangs and interstate underworld figures ruled supreme.  Many people walked in, shackled and cuffed.  Very few walked out.  Most were carried out, zipped in a black bag bound for a toe tag.  That mostly had to do with the many ways the head badges there profited off the free labor and organized sport of the inmates. 

**

In the year of 1995, I remember it like it was yesterday, I walked into Jackson State Prison not really understanding the rule that my ass could possibly never see the light of day.  I got caught up.  What can I say?  The bitch fucked me real bad.  But that was my problem.  I should've never been there. I'd simply make the best of it.  So, I wound up with a suspended sentence, plead and took my chances on an eighteen month stint.   Fuck.  It could have been NFL numbers.  Any time is too long though.  But it gave me some space to reflect and get to know a few headliners and legends.  It was my first time in.  And I was inclined to be sharing a bunk with the famous Elvis "Rock 'n' Roll" Philinganes, the legendary driver for a 'white boy' drug king pin dubbed "the King of Rock" who couldn't keep his bling or his dick in check. 

I walked in and took my space in the upper bunk and guessed immediately this guy, my cell mate, would be sprung soon.  Why else would they put me in the same container with the one they all called D block royalty.  I had no idea really what that meant but I would soon learn.  It wasn't long before we were sharing a smoke as he packed his grip on the eve of his departure.  For sure, he was heading home tomorrow morning, less than twenty-four hours and then he'd unload a purse of cabbage and head for the border. 

Elvis was a transplant.  He came to Michigan on vacation; driving for a former teenage dope runner who later became known as the 'King of Rock'.  And the only way to host a party was to offer favors-drugs and women.  Rock n Roll either stood at attention or sat on watch in the ride while he waited for some random shit to go down.  He needed to be ready for anything that could jump off.  And very rarely was he ever allowed to kick back and party with the King.  But this weekend 'the King' turned his boy Rock n Roll on to a hot redbone named Memphis Blue.  "Wowee..." the first phrase he spoke when describing Memphis Blue.  Said she was fine as frog hair, legs that went on for days, perfect tits, and the bluest eyes he'd ever seen on any woman.  She had curly light brown hair and when she walked it bounced just like her phat ass. Just hearing it caused me to drool and think about how to relieve myself once the lights blew for the evening.

Ms. Blue had concocted a plan to cash in on a life insurance policy and needed a few strong arms and a random female stiff that matched her I.D., which was going to be hard to do, said royalty.  He said there wasn't a woman near fine as her.  The mold was broke for sure.  But for a million dollars each they'd try to build one. 

Valerie 'Memphis Blue' Walker was as cunning as she was fine.  An honor student of some college down in Tennessee, she dropped out and started stripping.  Guess the scholarship didn't pay for food and the extras. But that's how she got her name, dancing the tables, shaking her phat ass, and just simply looking.  And boy was she a sight to see.  Those fucking eyes hypnotized men.  Made them unloose every dime in their fist and thought in their head just to get a lap dance from that plump ass grinding on their Johnson.  At first it was to pay for school but she got caught up...the money was just too good.  She knew what they liked and it wasn't hard for her to deliver.  She was blessed with smarts and beauty.  Two years later it had gotten old and she wanted to cash out, buy herself a ticket to another life. 

A new life with a new name.  And this new name was that of her 'twin'.  She had all of the necessary documents to establish this new identity.  She had been living this estranged 'twin' life ever since she found out her mother never filed a death certificate for the natural born child, and continued to collect state aid for a baby that died at home.  No one knew of an alleged 'twin' birth but the State of Tennessee Department of Welfare and because she moved around so much, she'd just change the names from Valeria Walker to Valerie Walker, when it suited Mom's game.  Memphis Blue inherited her mother's publishing smarts.  That and a false identity was all she left her when she died, and it was tragic too.

Memphis Blue, the King of Rock, and Rock n Roll would stage a death, place Blue's "Valerie Walker" I.D. on the Jane Doe, cremate the body, and wait thirty days to collect the purse once Valeria her estranged twin, the alleged sole beneficiary to a $3 million life insurance policy would mysteriously resurface to claim the purse.

But it didn't go that way...as great plans rarely do.  Here's the story.

***

Introducing Memphis Blue

Valerie "Memphis Blue" Walker had a lot of reasons as to why she wanted to die.  But I'll get to that in a minute.  Legs like Memphis'-long and lean didn't open so easy.  It cost a hefty penny to even get a peek.  Most of the local stiffs could barely afford that.  But it sure didn't stop 'em from tryin'.  She was mostly into private parties hosted by: doctors, lawyers, politicians, and drug dealers...like the King of Rock.  He'd nail her once or twice when he'd pass through and drop a 'G' with a bonus bag.  Once my boy gave her $5 Gs to let another girl go down on her and he didn't even join in. All of that money jus' to watch...boy I missed. Kicked my own ass for missin' that trip, but anyhow we wait outside this titty club named the Eager Beaver til close and there she was. Somethin' else...the broad was a hot piece of ass, boy. 

Keen' saw me drool, told me to beat off later cause the bitch was his grind. I played it off, said she wasn't much...likely the eyes were contacts or some shit. I was lyin' to myself all alon' but I didn't want my boy to know she was givin' me the signs. I took that wink she tossed me, stashed it in my pocket for a day or two.  Meanwhile she slid her fine ass in the back seat of the Keen's Beemer and in seconds of pullin' off his hand was up that skirt workin' her snatch. She swatted his hand and he stuck his finger in his mouth. She kissed him long and hard then asked him for some blow. We drove about a mile down the road and pulled on the I-75 N. goin' towards Rochester. She had a condo there...a nice little spot that cost Keen' a pretty penny. Hell sure she was worth it. That fine I knew that pussy was good. "Who's your friend?" She asked pretendin' she never saw me, like the back of my head was all she knew.  "That's, Rock n Roll...muthafucka can't sing for shit...naw that's my boy "El". We go way back. He's gonna help us out with that little thing you need." He explained. I looked in the rearview and winked. "He's kind of cute." She said. "Is he a heavy lifter?" she asked. "Don't worry Blue" he's the real deal...no joke" Keen' said as he poured her a hit of Patron and then took the bottle straight to the head.

Twenty minutes later we pulled into the lot. I thought I'd be sleepin' in the Beemer that night but they let me up. The elevator took us to the 6th floor. On the ride up Blue and Keen' got to grindin' each other and shit. Hell it was the one time I wished the fuckin' elevator would stick. Damn! The bell went off and the doors opened. They stumbled to the room and finally found the key to No. 601 after emptyin' the contents of this huge fuckin' sack she had hitched to her left shoulder. Once inside she pulled off one shoe and Keen' ordered her to keep 'em on. I knew why. He eased up behind her while I closed the door, and he shoved her into a bedroom. "Oh, make...yourself...at home." She spoke before the bedroom door shut. I rubbed my head and wished I was a woman, cause likely I would've been ringside. Instead I raided the fridge. Found some random take out, sniffed the boxes.  Somethin' died in there for sure. I pushed the shit back into the fridge, grabbed her keys and headed back out for some take out. I didn't bother with leavin' a note, they'd be busy a while with fuckin', snortin', drinkin', and fuckin' some more.

When I got back it was nearly 6 a.m. Only a few hours passed. I sure as hell didn't want to be hearin' when I could have been watchin' so I stayed out...gave them time to wear each other out then return.  So when I got in she was up makin' omelets.  She was fine, and could cook too.  Keen' came out from the bathroom and threw himself into a chair.  I joined 'em in the adjacent seat as we waited for breakfast to be served. Best theen' about that omelet was those blue eyes servin' it.  And when she took a seat on the counter those legs seem to lengthen. Fuck. I could barely take mental notes of the plan. Those legs did me in.

The Plan

So she spoke that she had taken out a life insurance policy on herself and her sister and it would come by way of an 'unfortunate accident'. I thought she wanted to kill her sister at first when she dropped the picture on the table and my eyes nearly bucked. "Two of you, right?" I got all woody, 'cause I just knew I could have one of 'em to myself. And that was when they both laughed, her and Keen'. And then she said "just jokin' baby...relax". I let out a breath and swore relief and hate for she had me all strung up thinkin' I was goin' to be gettin' one of her. She gave a wink to Keen' and I pulled out a smoke and lit it. "So what's the deal?". I asked.

"Nothin' really, I just need the brake line pulled on the car. Pick up the 'doe'. Keen said. "We won't cut the line til after we drop her off at the hotel. Pull out the 'doe', lock it in the seat, and drive the car off the overpass.  It will be days before the remains are found. We're gonna light it up!" He went on to say. "It's easy. She's done all of the work. Just needs us to get the 'doe' and dress it. She doesn't have the stomach for it herself." He explained.

"Fine. Just tell me when" I said.

Seemed simple enough, since Keen' could get a body easily we 'viewed the plan and set the clock to bring it on the next night. We'd drop her off as "Valeria" at the Signature Inn when it was all over.  But first we had to transfer the 'doe' dress it in this pink bikini thang similar to the one she'd be wearin' the night she meet us at the spot. And that's when Keen' lit a joint and told me 'his plan' to smoke out Memphis Blue and clean the bank.

Smokin' Memphis Blue

"I'm in the policy." Keen' said and then took a toke from his reefer then passed it up to me. I took a hit myself. "What?" was all I could come up with and the weed hadn't even hit me yet. "It's almost 2. She'll be here soon. So here it is...we're gonna take the entire purse. Blue and the 'doe' are both goin' on that overpass." He flipped the plan as he cut his eyes up at me. "Instead of a ˝ mil, you get a whole. How's that sound to ya?" He said without even blinkin'.

"What's wron' with the original plan...why you wanna kill Blue?" I asked. He just took another toke and said "She owes me and I don't trust that bitch far as I can throw her. If I let her the chance, she'll screw me the first op she gets. Can't risk it. So we go with my plan, smoke her ass before she has the chance to do it us. Trust me...it'll be like takin' candy from a baby." Keen laughed some Sir Graves like shit.

"Yeah...whatever man...So lon' as I get paid." I told 'em, but thinkin' 'damn' that's some cold shit. But a whole is twice as good as a half so I rolled with it. Just figured we be killin' both I.D's. I knew this muthafucka for like over 25 years.  And I saw him do some ruthless shit...hell we both did shit, it came with the game.  Keen' checked his 9 and placed it on his thigh as we sat and waited 'bout twenty minutes eatin' about 2lbs. of fried shrimp, coleslaw, and fries with lotta hot sauce, and then the car pulled up behind ours.

"Hey...let's do it!" she smiled and those blue eyes showed bright like the stars in the sky. She had on one of those jump suits janitors wear. It was black or blue. I couldn't tell 'cause it was so dark. She waited for us to unload the 'doe', dress it and stuff it behind the wheel of her car. Keen' cut the brake line while I strapped 'Valerie the doe' into seat. The body was heavy, cold but it wasn't a big deal. Blue lit a smoke and ran her fingers through those thick curls. It was a fuckin' shame what Keen' was up to. I just kept cool and waitin' for the signal.

"That'll do" she said and pointing a Dillinger pistol at the side of Keen's head. "Don't even think about it." She broke a faint smile. "What the hell is this for?" she asked as she pulled the 9 out from Keen's suit jacket and drew both guns on him.

"Take it easy Blue...what the hell you doin'?" Keen' asked her moments before she ordered me to shoot him. "Do it, now!" she barked. I drew my 9... aimed it right at Keen' who assumed I was playing alon' with her game.  "Do it now, damn it!" she yelled at me.

"You can't shoot 'em" I said. "It'd look like murder. That'll fuck shit up real bad!" And that's when Keen' turned on his muscle and rushed her...bear tackled her and she fell to the ground, passed out cold.

"Help me put her in the damn car, hurry up. And take that jump suit off her. The green suit is on the back seat." Keen' told me. "Hurry up and get it...that was real good man, the way you played her...real smooth." He said all goofy and shit.

 When Keen' bent over to undress her I hit him on the back of the head with the butt of my 9 and he fell over on top of her.  As I rolled him over off her she quickly came to.  "That was perfect!" she smiled and we went to tie 'em up quickly before he'd awaken and realize that he was to be the actual 'passenger' on that long ride down the I-75 over pass. She kissed my lips soft and tenderly.  I can still taste the chocolate gloss. I would've liked to have gone further but we had work to do. Blue and I tied Keen' up and stuffed his weight into the passenger side of her car. She dressed herself quick in that green suit we had in the back of the Beemer while I pushed the car over the ramp and into the ditch. Seconds was all it took, before it burst into flames on impact as it slammed front end first and flipped over onto the roof. A busted tail light alon' with 10 pounds of coke was what they found lined in the trunk lid of a dead man's Beemer. And that's how I got my ass caught up, serving a 5-10. But tomorrow I start new. The last hours of the most rotten ass time I ever intend to serve. And that's for real man.

Isaac Hayes: Music, Food & Passion

I couldn't believe it. The guy went on an on about how he couldn't wait to fuck the broad and bathe in all that green cabbage. "Wow" was all I could say.  The next morning when the cells opened on the D Block, Jackson State Pen's royalty was expected to walk out and down the long corridor for the last time.  But when the cage opened at morning call no one appeared.  When the guards checked the cell, they found him hung with a picture of that sexy ass redbone Memphis Blue's picture, clipped from the Oakland Press stuffed in his mouth.

Of course I didn't trust Blue to comply with the agreement so I asked for $250 thousand of my fee of $1 million up front.  But it was all I could do less trusting her was to wait until a better job came up.  Small change went out to her various palms that needed to be greased, namely the head badge at Jackson.  My eighteen months in Jackson turned quickly into thirty days in the Oakland County Jail and that gave me plenty time to sit while I waited for my date at the Isaac Hayes Barbecue. 

The day I got out I flew to Tennessee.  Drove a rental downtown, parked at Peabody Pl. and Beale Street and walked the long block to the mall.  I took the elevator up to the 2nd floor. The main attraction was the famous Isaac Hayes Restaurant.  I sat down and asked for two menus.  I knew she'd be there.  I ordered a Long Island iced tea and started with the Rib Ticklers while I waited for Ms. Valeria Walker to show.  After two more Long Islands I licked my fingers clean of that barbecue sauce and then waited for a Diana Krall rendition of It Could Happen to You concluded, I went to the restroom to release those teas.  I'd hoped by the time I got back to the table my guest would be in the midst.  But when I returned to my seat the bill had been paid and a note was left for me along with a camera photo of Rock n Roll pushing a car off the I-75.  The note said "it could happen to you". 

I sat back in the seat, balled up that cloth napkin and tossed it up on the table.  I could have used that $250 thousand I had stashed to track her down and collect the rest of my purse.  But instead, I reached into my pocket, pulled out the small stack of tapes and a bubble lined package, then sealed the stack of tapes inside.  I addressed it to:

Detroit Free Press
615 W. Lafayette
Detroit, MI 48226

ATTN: Ken Stallworth

As for Valeria Walker, well she is as dead today as she ever was.  But now Valerie "Memphis Blue" Walker, MDOC #604478 has been tried and sentenced to 108 years for a sleuth of charges ranging from conspiracy to commit, identity theft, and open murder.  She never really actually killed anyone unless you count her sister Valeria, who we all know didn't really exist.  I can't say for sure that one as fine and clever as Blue can be contained for long, especially since the Feds never got their hands on all of that insurance money.  I never told any one else this story.  And my name is no longer the same.  My identity has since changed, of course.  But for all of the homey's on Cell Block D, let's just say the King of Rock' I shall forever be.

THE END