A New Age Mystery Comes to Life Pt. 01

"The guys hate those calls but let's see what we can do. I'll talk to the commanders and see what comes up." Rick left for his meeting.

Finally, I had a moment to look closely at Glenda. Outwardly, I could tell that she was in control but inwardly, there was some fear on her face. Quietly I asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

She took a deep breath and let it out. "Not now. Can we talk after work? I don't want to discuss personal things in the office."

"Glen, you don't even have to explain anything. You talked to the right people and I can accept that Rick did the right things. It also sounds like Mitch agrees. That's all I need to know."

"No, you need to know the rest. I just want to save it for later."

"All right then, let's go to lunch. My treat. Mexican or fish?"

She smiled weakly and replied, "Mexican."

"Ok, but you are driving and I pick the place." I took her arm and led her outside to the SUV where I opened the driver's door for her. I surprised myself because I moved much easier than usual. Silently, I decided that going back to work might be the best therapy and rehab I could have done.

Our lunch was more subdued than I wanted but she seemed to relax as we ate. Finally, she simply asked, "What do you want to do this afternoon?"

"What will get your mind off of all of this and get you back to where you want to be?"

"A good cry."

"Then find a place and cry before you beat the crap out of something that isn't human." Fortunately, that brought a snicker.

"Only you would come up with something like that."

"What do you think I have been doing for the past three months?"

"I can't see you crying or beating the crap out of a pillow."

"You would be surprised. One of these days, I will actually hit the damn pillow. Right now, it keeps hitting me back."

"You are kidding, aren't you?"

"No. Let's go see if we can talk to the driver of the Ford. Right now, I would like to start finding a chain of information to work off of."

"Good idea."

The drive to the small town where the driver lived took thirty minutes. During the drive, we talked quietly back and forth about the questions we wanted to ask. I could hear that she was relaxing as she focused on the work at hand rather than the hangover of the morning. That made me feel good.

When we left an hour later, we were both satisfied and even more confused. I started with my usual question. "What did you hear that caught your attention?"

Glenda replied, "I guess the main thing was that whoever is behind this seems to have trusted a stranger to deliver the dope. What did you hear?"

"I hear what you heard but I keep asking other questions. This woman who sets him up with short-term deliveries seems to be too visible. Is she just another innocent go-between? And then the drop off spot is just a garage outside of a big town on a main road. Is that the final delivery point? If so, then it looks like a group of amateurs are working both ends of this deal but all of the details indicate a fairly sophisticated operation."

"I see what you mean. The driver just gets an e-mail from the woman about a drop off of a truck or a trailer, gets paid half the cash on pick up, and the other half on delivery. That is so simple as to be obvious. Dealers don't usually flash that much cash so easily. This almost sounds like a legit operation. But if it is, who sets it up before and after the delivery?"

"That is the ultimate question. But let's just play around with that idea for a while. I'm a big dope dealer. Say I've got a ton of stuff to move. I've moved stuff before and some of it gets through but some loads get busted by the cops. If I lose a ton of stuff, I lose a lot of money and someone still wants to be paid for it. How can I insure more reliable deliveries?"

"In the past, they have tried to hide small quantities by planting them on innocent travelers. I don't know how much actually gets through that way but it seems that a lot gets stopped at the borders and places like that."

"True. But if I'm going to plant stuff on a random traveler, the places I can hide stuff are very limited. I can tie it under your car somewhere or hide it in your trunk if I can get in there. But those are exposed and the border patrols pretty well check those spots. Then there is the problem of keeping track of the car to recover the stuff."

"Ok...so I get a vehicle that I control and hide it better. Then...I...find a driver to deliver the vehicle to a safe location, pay him, and then get my stuff. That should be safer as long as the driver doesn't get curious or do something stupid."

"I'll buy that but I still have the start and end points that would be vulnerable. If the local cops get wind that something is happening at my dealership or shop, it is going to be difficult to move stuff. I mean, I have a ton of stuff and want to move it in smaller loads. Two-hundred pound loads mean loading and moving ten vehicles. At one hundred pounds, that is twenty drivers and trucks."

Glenda was quiet for a few miles and then slowly responded. "This is a reach but let's say that I bought a dozen old pickup trucks. They are relatively cheap. I pay a shop to get them into running condition and then modify the beds to hide a compartment. So far, everything is legal and would attract no interest at all. Then I have an out of the way place to load the stuff. I arrange with a legitimate broker to arrange transportation from their location to another legitimate one where a pre-arranged 'buyer' picks it up. The only bad guys handling it are the ones loading and unloading the stuff. Everything else is clean and legal. The only downside is that this would cost a lot of money."

"How much is a hundred pounds of coke worth wholesale and on the street? What you describe might cost $10,000 but you have gone a long way towards insuring deliveries. Besides, if you can reuse the trucks, you only have to pay a couple of people in the chain. If you lose the truck for whatever reason, it isn't a huge loss either. I agree that this is a reach but it is also a little scary. If you can get a bunch of innocent people doing your dirty work without even a clue as to what they are doing, that covers your ass pretty well to boot. So far, that is about the best story we have come up with."

"But what about the automatic weapons? That is a totally different type of deal."

Thomas frowned for a moment and then responded, "Yes and no. The use and delivery points are probably different but ultimately, it is still just illegal material that needs to be moved around with as little likelihood of being discovered as possible."

"So, the middle man might not even be just a dope dealer but a transport system for the bad guys. That is a scary thought."

"Yes, it is but then legitimate businesses reply on third party delivery services every day; so why wouldn't a reasonable intelligent bad guy do the same thing if it was available. Most of his flunkies might be good soldiers but not necessarily good as innocent civilians. The cops may very well know about most of them. Take the guy who ran. Apparently, he was an insider and ran at the first sign of problems. An innocent driver wouldn't have any reason to run."

"So why was he sent to drive?"

"In your storyline, there has to be an insider at both ends. We don't know where it came from but given that the Clan is out in the boonies, it is reasonable that they wouldn't want an innocent leaving this kind of cargo that close to them. They probably thought that their newest and least noteworthy person was the best choice to pick up the load and bring it home. If the dead guy was the driver, he was fairly clean at least statewide. He probably didn't know exactly what he was carrying but he was probably told to not screw it up."

"That makes sense. So where do we go to explore these kinds of things?"

"Let's see what comes up this afternoon first. Tomorrow, I think that it would be worth you paying a visit to the car lot woman and see if she can tell you anything."

"Will you come too?"

"No, I don't think so. I suspect that you might get better responses alone than with me tagging along. I also have a doctor's appointment tomorrow at 1:00. Marla will take me."

"When I talk to her, what should I say or not say?"

"Probably that we aren't investigating her but a couple of vehicles that she might have handled. I wouldn't go into details about why or what? See if she is forthcoming and if it feels natural and honest or like she might be hiding something."

When we returned to the office, Glenda got busy on her computer while I did the same on mine. I was researching the history of the truck Glenda's brother had been using and found a possible lead. The original owner of that truck had sold it to a plumbing company that was local. There was no record of it being sold again although it hadn't been licensed for the past two years. I could call the place tomorrow while Glenda was visiting with the broker/dealer. The more I thought about it, the more I felt like we were seeing just the tip of an iceberg. That thought gave me a case of acid stomach.

The truth is that most of the visible crimes are by individuals doing something stupid or impulsive. Traditional, organized crime was performed by a closed group of people whose loyalty was constantly observed and monitored by both the cops and the insiders. It was relatively easy to find and put the little guys in jail but the big guys had enough insulation between them and the little guys that linking them to any one thing was virtually impossible. With all of the new surveillance techniques available, some of that insulation had been stripped away but it had also opened doors to a new generation of invisible bad guys. The Internet and the development of social networks and business-to-business transactions had created a virtually anonymous way for things to be conducted. Almost every on-line business that you do business with is invisible. Few actually show the owner or the location of the actual business. It could be a single guy working out of his garage or a large multi-national corporation operating to a select group of customers. Finding out who these people actually were could be a serious problem. Most of them were legitimate but as usual, a few were wolves dressed in sheep's clothing. Could someone actually put together a sophisticated network of interstate transportation that was both secret but visible? I couldn't answer that for certain but my gut said that it wasn't an 'if question' but a 'when question.'

At four, Glenda stood up and stretched. That told me that it was time to call it a day. "Come up with anything interesting?"

"I started with the dealer's website. Everything looks pretty straightforward. There were a couple of links that I followed and they all looked pretty solid too. But what stuck in my mind that I will look into is that there appears to be a fair amount of business out there involving vintage vehicles especially old trucks. For instance, this woman advertises, 'If you want it; we can get it for you. Parts, restorable trucks, trucks ready to roll.' While a wrecking yard might have a large inventory of vehicles, I doubt that a dealer in a small town would. That means that there is probably a network of dealers that share information and stock. If I contact her looking for a 50's model Ford and she asks her network if anyone has one. If someone anywhere does, they work out the price and if she gets the order, they arrange to move the vehicle to the buyer."

"I see what you are saying and that sounds like a very viable operation. Where do you think the bad guys could get involved?"

"That would be the jackpot but think about this. I am bad guy with a load of something to move. On the black web, I work out a deal with another bad guy. I tell him that it will be in yellow Ford pickup from, say Missouri. The other bad guys go to this woman and says that he is looking for a running yellow Ford like he had when he was growing up. The woman goes on her network and asks and lo and behold, there is one in Missouri and the deal is made and she arranges transportation to where ever."

I thought through that scenario and found no holes in it. "What if there were three different yellow Fords in different locations available?"

"She tells the guy that there are three but at three different prices and locations. The bad guy knows what the asking price will be and where it is coming from so he picks that one. If by chance there were two in the same area, a quick look at the black web could confirm which one to choose."

I thought for another minute before replying, "Do you know what is scary about this story? The bad guys could be moving all kinds of merchandise like this and never know who they are dealing with. They never have to meet in person. If we get one guy, we could beat the crap out of him and he couldn't tell us who his supplier is. Everything and everyone is totally anonymous."

"Sounds like we need to get someone inside the black web to at least know what is going if not who and where."

All I could do is groan. "And that might be harder than getting an insider inside the Mafia or the Clan. Let's go see what my sister has been up to."

Glenda grinned that conspiratorial grin that all women seem to have that told me I was in for a big surprise. I was right, of course, the surprise was that my house had been cleaned and tidied up and a roast was in the oven. As soon as she heard the front door open, Marla came out of the kitchen and handed me a beer and Glenda a glass of wine.

"Tommy, sit down and unwind while Glenda and I finish dinner. And If I hear any crap or if you give Glenda a hard time, I am going kick your ass and put you back in the hospital."

Understand that Marla is at least five feet three inches tall and might weigh slightly more than a hundred pounds. However, she is fully capable of kicking someone's ass and making them feel it since she played soccer throughout high school and two years of college. Her playing days stopped after she married Rick and got pregnant with her first child.

"Yes, sister dearest and I am discovering that Glenda doesn't deserve any crap and if she gets some, she is probably fully capable of kicking a deserving ass on her own. And before this night is over, the two of you are going to tell me how you know each other. So, get your stories straight." I sat down while the two giggled and went into the kitchen.

I had no sooner sat down when I heard, "Uncle Tommy, will you read me a story?"

"Only if you come sit in my lap, Gracie. I have missed having you sit with me."

"Momma said that I can't sit in your lap until you get better."

"Then we won't tell her that you did." It was a little awkward to lift her but my arms would have to be dead to not be able to lift my sweet 3-year old Gracie onto my lap. She snuggled in as I opened the book she carried.

From behind me, I heard Marla say, "Gracie, what did we say about sitting in Tommy's lap?"

"He said that he is all better and to not tell you."

"Thomas!"

"Butt out and go do girlie things. We have a story to read."

"Glenda, I told you that he was a big softie; he just hides it well."

"I think that it is cute."

"Someday, he will make some woman a good husband....he might be seventy, but he is really is good husband material."

Two giggling women behind your back can really deal a blow to your self-esteem in a hurry. "Don't the two of you have some chick things to do in the kitchen? You are interrupting story time."

I then began reading the story although Gracie frequently took over since she knew the story at heart. That told me that it was time to get some new books in the house for her to read. When we finished, I asked, "Where is Ricky?"

"He's playing games on your computer. I'll get him." She jumped down and my eyes almost bulged out of my head as my leg told me that I still couldn't take a sudden movement very well.

A moment later, 8-year old Ricky came out with a smile and took a sip from my beer. "Uncle Tommy, I got up to level six today. That's pretty good, isn't it?"

"Better than I can do. I can only get to the end of level four before I make a mistake. How are you doing buddy?"

"Pretty good. I hope you get better soon. I need help throwing the baseball. I can't throw out a runner at second."

"Hey, don't rush it. That is one of the longest throws in baseball and you are squatting down to boot. But we will work on it soon. How is school?"

"Okay, I guess. You helped me in math; my grades are better now."

"That's good to know."

Glenda's voice said, "All right Gracie and Ricky, wash up. It is dinner time."

Both kids replied, "Yes ma'am" and ran to the bathroom. Glenda asked, "Do you need some help up?"

"I might." I struggled to lift myself but it was hard, Then I felt Glenda's strong hand under my arm and I was able to finish standing. "Thanks."

"You probably shouldn't have let Gracie sit on your lap."

"Probably not but I won't miss a chance to read to her. So there."

"Marla's right; you are a big softie."

"Don't believe everything she says."

"She told me to believe what you do and ignore what you say. I think that she is right. Sit."

"Yes, mother."

That earned me a swat and a "Oops, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it; I'm a guy and can take it."

"Marla, Tommy is throwing that bovine compost stuff around again."

"Tommy, clean up your act. You are making a bad impression on Glenda. I don't want to have to choose between her and you. You will lose."

"I don't see what your problem is. Glenda and I get along just great."

"Uh huh. I will be the judge of that." The kids returned and took their seat which ended the adult banter.

When dinner was finished and the kids went off to play again, I sat back and said, "That was the best meal I have had since I was in the hospital."

Glenda replied, "I don't know what hospital you were in but the last hospital food I tired was horrible."

"That means that this was far better than the hospital food and the convenience store barbeque."

"That isn't much of a compliment for Marla's cooking."

Marla replied, "It is a compliment because you haven't eaten Tommy's cooking yet. He is a great cook."

"Oh really! That is nice to know."

I decided to change the subject. "All right you two, don't start on me. Glenda says that I will have to beat the story out of you about how the two of you became thick as thieves. Out with it."

"It's not much of a story really. I went down to get together with Mitch's wife. Oh, we did discover that we are second cousins. It is kind of complicated, but we are. Anyway, it was graduation weekend at the academy and I went with them to the dinner. With twenty men and Glenda, she sat at our table to avoid too much male crap. We talked and got along very nicely. When she said that she was being assigned up here, I offered to help her find a place to live. When she came up, we had a great time going around looking at apartments. We finally found one that was only a half a mile from our house. Being that close, she came over often and babysit with the kids when Rick and I go out. Then we started going out together since she didn't know many places or people. So that is about it."

"Glenda, do you want to modify this suspect's story or would it stand up in court?"

Oddly she blushed a little before she said, "I think that she is telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

"With that kind of recommendation, I think that both of you are keeping something hidden. I will be keeping an eye on both of you."

Marla grinned and replied, "Tommy, would we hide something from you?"

"You are both women; damn right you would."

Glenda blushed again. Marla laughed and added, "Quit being such a guy. There are only a few girl things that you don't need to know about...yet."