O’Shea chuckled, “Yea, I bet you do, word on the street, he is laying low, gonna be real hard to find him.”
That wasn’t good, I needed to make this move quickly “I guess I need some way to make him stick his head up then, I heard his supply on the street was low, you hear anything about that?”
“Yea, that’s what everyone is saying. Someone removed a supplier from this area and now things are getting tough. The new supplier is being put in place as we speak, seems a relative of Guzman is taking Perroni’s former position.” O’Shea prayed he was doing the right thing.
I wanted him to help, but never figured he would be so forthcoming with information “That’s good to know, I bet a further disruption in his import business would really piss him off, might want to make him handle that problem by himself.”
O’Shea answered, “Kinda what I figured, but that might involve someone getting hurt, know what I mean, and I wouldn’t want Guzman’s cousin Tony Lucio being hurt.”
He had just given me the name of the new distributor; either that or he was setting a trap. “Tony Lucio, pretty common name in these parts. Wouldn’t be wise if anyone found out where this guy might be setting up shop.”
O’Shea figured he was already in so what the hell. “Yea, I probably would hide somewhere around the Camden Wharf, seems that place is still used for importing. Anyone spreading a little cash around there might, I say just might, get a lead on Mr. Lucio. Of course, the police would be very interested in that location, if that information was available before any harm came to him.”
This was more than I expected “Well, if I find anyone willing to spread a little cash, I’ll let you know. In the mean time, you take care of yourself.”
I hung up the phone and looked at my partners. “I can’t believe it, I either just got the green light to take down the new drug connection in this area, or got set up for a bust. Problem is; there is only one way to find out.”
Chapter 21
Detective Ryan Thibodeaux was reading a report he had received from the U.S. Army. The report was a condensed version of the service records for Carr, Rome, and Wilson. Thibodeaux had never been in the military but it was very impressive. His partner, Randy Greyfield was even more impressed. Greyfield had served in the Army during the Gulf War in 1991.
Shaking his head Greyfield said “Ryan, do you realize what we are looking at here. These three guys gathered pretty much every metal you could get; between them they have eight tours of combat in Vietnam. Carr and Rome have the Distinguished Service Cross, man that’s one notch under the Metal of Honor. Wilson has the Air Metal and a Silver Star. These three fucking guys are genuine American Heroes. Carr and Wilson have two tours and Rome has four tours. I am impressed.”
Thibodeaux looked at Greyfield, “Jesus, you’re gushing, this isn’t a love fest these guys are suspects.”
Greyfield shook his head, “Sorry Ryan, but I can’t help it. My war lasted one hundred hours; Carr and Wilson were in the shit for two years man. Rome did four tours, Greyfield pointed at the photo they had taken from Carr’s house. “You see the rifles they are holding, Carr is holding an XM 21, that’s the sniper version of the M 14, now Rome, that’s an M 40. That’s a Remington 700 used by the Marines in Vietnam. He’s Army but I know some top shooters were able to get one. “
Thibodeaux pointed to the report and asked Greyfield, “Ok, I understand these guys were good thirty years ago, but how does that translate to now, I mean, we talking about taking on a street gang?”
Greyfield responded, “I gotta tell you partner, I look at this report and that other picture of those guys on the beach. These guys are in their fifties and the look twenty years younger. The shit these guys were taught and the training they went through, you just don’t forget that. I mean, they all have more than enough balls to pull this off. We saw that big gun safe in Carr’s house; I don’t think he was keeping water pistols in there. “
Thibodeaux shook his head in agreement “I get all that, but we still got nothing solid on any of these guys, I mean, Carr bought two practice grenades, that’s it.” Thibodeaux pointed to a page in the Army Report, “And look at all this stuff that’s blacked out, what’s all that about?”
Greyfield looked at the pages and ran his finger down a date column, “Look at this, all the dates in this report put Carr, Wilson, and Rome in Vietnam at the same time. All that blacked out shit was probably a few trips into Laos or somewhere we weren’t suppose to be. I read the commendations for their metals. Carr and Rome were partners for the better part of two tours. These guys were LRPS, they had to be bad ass to be allowed to partner for that long.”
Thibodeaux had a strange expression on his face. “What the hell is a LRP and how can we leverage this information into a warrant to collar these guys?”
Greyfield had to laugh, “Man a LRP is a Long Range Reconnaissance Patrol. That’s a guy that basically went out on his own to scout the bad guys, they didn’t go out with a bunch of guys and a bunch of weapons. They operated alone, or in two man teams. If they got in shit they were on their own. Something else, look at the dates for this guy Rome, here, the dates suddenly end for two years and then begin again. There are only two possibilities for that, the Army screwed up his records, or he was assigned somewhere else.”
Thibodeaux looked at him strangely, “Somewhere else, what does that mean?”
Greyfield scratched his head and thought for a minute; “That means he was assigned to some unit not under the U.S. Military, as in CIA. I’ve head of this shit before, guy with some special skills is reattached to some covert operation, and basically he disappears.”
He began to laugh “Leverage this, shit I don’t know. I guess we need more background on them, we have their full names and DOBs, so let’s see what they been up to since they left the military.”
Chapter 22
My cell phone rang at 10:30 PM two nights later. Only one person had this number so I instantly knew had to be O’Shea. I answered on the second ring. “What you got?”
O’Shea answered “Camden Bus Terminal, 100 South Broadway, walk in the front door, straight ahead, third row of seats, third seat from the left, taped under the seat. Locker number 115.”
Before I could even answer he hung up. I turned to my partners and told them what he had just said. I wanted to make this pickup alone just in case this was some sort of setup. They argued with me, but in the end I won.
I headed for the bus terminal, I felt fairly confident this wasn’t a setup but you never knew. I carried no weapons on me, just in case I would be searched.
I entered the Bus Terminal at 11:27 PM. The place was virtually empty. It was as dirty and smelly as the one in New Orleans. Straight ahead were the seats he had mentioned. There were six rows, I walked to the third row and moved to the third seat. I looked around and saw no one anywhere. I put my hand under the plastic seat and felt something taped there. I pulled it loose and it was a small locker key.
Locker 115 proved to be the last locker on the end of a long line. I thought I had put all this middle of the night covert stuff behind me, but here is was at it again. I opened the locker and found a brown manila envelope. This was not the time or place for curiosity so I put the envelope in my waistband behind my back and under my coat. I left, got in my car and headed back to the motel.
Back at the motel with Shelby and Carl we opened the envelope. Inside was a photo and a report on Tony Lucio, Guzman’s cousin. He looked to be about fifty years old with jet black hair combed back. It was obviously a surveillance photo because he was walking down a street with another man. The other man was Guzman. I read the report; the photo was taken in Camden ten days prior. It had been taken at the intersection of South Broadway and Atlantic Ave. in downtown Camden. It seems the two had met downtown and taken a car to a warehouse at the end of Clinton St. where it met the Delaware River.
The tail was still on Guzman but no surveillance was currently set up on Lucio. Carl and Shelby had
been reading the report with me, I turned and asked “I know how I read this, but give me your opinions.”
Carl spoke first, always one to cut right to the chase “O’Shea wants Lucio gone, out of the picture, any way you slice it, he wants us to get rid of him.”
Shelby shook his head, “I agree, he not only tells us where the warehouse is but tells us there is no one watching him. The only way I can read this is just what Carl said, he wants us to take him out.”
I took a deep breath, “I see the same thing, damn; I never figured O’Shea would finger this guy for us, maybe Guzman, but not Lucio. My guess is he figures this will draw Guzman out and give us a better shot.
Shelby was shaking his head, “But you know what bothers me? Why, why is he doing this? This guy is a straight shooter and suddenly he is working with the enemy. Jess, there is something you’re not telling us here, I can feel it. Man, we’re been friends for too long for you to hold out on us now. So what gives?”
I knew he had me there; I had never lied to them and shouldn’t have this time. “Alright, you two ain’t gonna like this, but I promised O’Shea if he helps us bring down Guzman, I will turn myself into him and confess to the Camden Wharf murders. Before you start telling me no, please here me out.”
They both just looked at each other and shaking their head told me to go on.
“I started this shit a long time ago, I brought you two into it, believe me I know you both came into this with your eyes open, but Rachael and Jasmine are innocent in this. I just want to protect them and the only way we can do it is to take Guzman out of the equation. We need O’Shea for that, and I’m the price of getting that done.”
Both of them sat there but couldn’t speak, finally Shelby said, “Jess there has to be another way. We can’t let you do this, what does O’Shea know about us?”
I was hurting inside; I hated this, but still felt I had to do it. “As far as I can tell he knows what I look like but nothing about you two or the women. He knows I have partners but not anything about you, nothing. You gotta let this happen man, let’s just play this out and see where it takes us. In the end I want what’s best for everyone involved.”
They weren’t convinced, but dropped it for the moment. We had some plans to make, so we got down to that business.
Chapter 23
Detective Ryan Thibodeaux and Detective Cheryl Manning were enjoying a quiet drink before dinner at Emerald’s Restaurant. Like cops everywhere, even on personal time it was hard not to talk about the job, and tonight was no exception. Thibodeaux had received information on all three men he was convinced had committed the Calliope Murders. Normally he would have shared this with his partner first, but Greyfield had gone to his son’s ball game, and Thibodeaux was with Manning. Since their first meeting they had become quite an item. It’s impossible to keep a secret in any squad room and New Orleans Police and Jefferson’s Parish Sherriff’s Office were no exception. It had become an open secret that they were spending a lot of time together off the job. Half the cops in the Sherriff’s Office were pissed because they had their sights on the same target.
Emerald’s New Orleans Restaurant is a romantic restaurant located in the old warehouse district of the city, and there was no doubt about it, romance was on their mind tonight. They had not seen each other in three days and were staring into each other eyes with passion. Of course, being cops, they had to talk shop.
Thibodeaux reached into his inside coat pocket and removed the communications he had received from the Army and the local PD in Baltimore and Idaho. And of course, Manning being a cop was anxious look at them.
Thibodeaux spread the papers on their table and pointed to the blacked out portion of the Army documents. “My partner thinks this blotted out stuff here is when they were operating on some type of black ops. These guys have quite a history, lots of metals and action under their belts, but so far nothing I can really use. If I leave it to Rodney he’s gonna go over to Carr’s house and pin a metal on him. I guess it’s an Army thing, but he really admires them. I guess I can understand that, anyone that spends that much time in combat deserves some admiration. He calls them genuine American Heroes.”
Manning studied the documents “Well they spent time together in the Army, but what about after they got out?”
Thibodeaux shuffled the papers in order to see the PD documents he had just received that day. “Ok, well Carr was an only child; came home from his last tour and finished college. He got married, had a good job, no children, mother and farther deceased. No involvement with the police in all those years. I mean, nothing, I found a couple of traffic tickets, but he paid the fine and never fought then. He is squeaky clean until this turns up. This has to have something to do with his wife murder, that can’t be a consistence. “
“Let’s see, Wilson was a pilot, again only child, mother and farther both doctors, he spent two years at Harvard. Quit school and joined the Army, attended flight training, two tours, lots of commendations and metals. Much like Carr comes home gets married, no children, good job flying for a private company, but here is where they differ. Wilson and his wife split, apparently for whatever reason she gets everything. Best I can figure from this is he crawled into a bottle. He’s got like three drunk and disorderly and two minor assault beefs. Baltimore PD picked him up a bunch of times and his address was a homeless shelter. So this guy, who had the world by the ass, is drunk and on the street. Well about two years ago he drops off the grid in Baltimore and appears in New Orleans, his new address is Carr’s house. We got nothing on him down here, no contact with any PD.”
“Then about a year and a half ago he buys a house on the Mississippi Gulf Coast. I don’t mean a fixer upper; I mean one of those mansions right across Hwy 90 from the beach. Now there is no record of him working for three years but now he owns a house none of us could afford. Of course, he is smart; he is paying a mortgage, so he didn’t use cash. He is with a redhead in the pictures in Carr’s house, not sure who she is. His mortgage is $2700 per month, he is never late, but his bank account only has six grand in it. So where does that money come from?”
Manning looked at the documents, “What about Carr, what kind of financials does he have, I mean, could he be helping Wilson?”
Thibodeaux shook his head, “I thought about that, he’s got one hundred thousand when his wife got wacked. He had about another one hundred thousand in the bank and another three hundred thousand in his 401k. His house was already paid for and there is no record of any exorbitant purchases. Right now he has about one hundred fifty thousand in the bank and hasn’t touched his 401k, so I don’t know; I just wish I had his bank account.”
Manning laughed, “No shit there, I could use some of that myself. So basically they are living well with no visible means of support. I see Carr does have a pension, let’s see, about nineteen hundred a month. Wilson’s company went belly up so he gets nothing. I guess he could have had some money stashed when the divorced happened.”
Thibodeaux responded, “Yea he could, who knows, nothing we can prove or disprove. Now our buddy Rome is another interesting situation. He did twenty years, four combat tours in Vietnam and then quite a few deployments that the Army thought should be blacked out. He retired, bought a piece of land in rural Idaho, and basically disappeared. No work history, no criminal record, no nothing. Pension checks from the Army, no credit cards, no record of him even existing except for his pension checks being cashed. That’s it, then about seven months ago; he makes a purchase of seven hundred acres of land in Mississippi, gets a small house built on it and again disappears. Land wasn’t particularly expensive; he paid cash about one hundred thousand dollars, but no idea where he kept his money. For all I know it could have stuffed his mattress every time he cashed his check. So that’s pretty much a dead end. But now here they are, all down here and living the good life, and I have nothing, other than a lot of suspicion.”
Manning shuffled through the papers and shook her head, “Ryan,
I think you are beating a dead horse here. These guys are probably dirty, but are very careful. And after seeing their service record I would recommend you thread very lightly with them. They may be Saints or they may be Sinners, but what I do know they are, is dangerous.”
Just then the maitre d informed them their table was ready. Thibodeaux gathered the papers together and put them back in his pocket. Manning had started following the maitre d and as Thibodeaux looked he admired the view from the rear. He smiled and thought; well this other stuff can wait till tomorrow. He followed Manning and enjoyed the view all the way to their table.
Chapter 24
The warehouse at the foot of Clinton St. and the Delaware River was a single story fairly new structure. It was probably one hundred and fifty feet long fronting the Delaware. Scouting from a distance we noticed one very important thing, there were video surveillance cameras covering all the entrances. The rear of the warehouse faced train tracks and was also video monitored. To say entering without being observed was an understatement.
We watched for goings and comings for two hours, but there were none. Not one single person or vehicle had entered or left the warehouse and it was mid-afternoon.
Carl had worked his way to the south of the warehouse and was in radio contact with us, our plan for today was to observe, nothing more. Shelby and I were on the north side. Shelby was shaking his head, “This is a tough one, look at those light standards I bet this thing is bright as day when they come on.”
I looked and saw the high intensity lights surrounding the warehouse “I would be willing to bet there is a sophisticated alarm in there also. You’re right, this ain’t gonna be easy. I don’t think it’s a good idea to try anything here, we need to find out when he comes and goes and plan on taking him down at some other location.”
Carl’s voice came over the radio, “We got a silver Mercedes moving down the riverfront from this direction, windows to dark to see inside, but driving slowly.”
I took out the binoculars and looked down the wharf; I could see the silver Mercedes coming down the front toward us. The car stopped on the ramp in front of a small entrance door. The driver and passenger door opened and two men got out. It was too far to see much detail, but I could tell they were dressed in dark suits and appeared to be powerfully built. They stood by the car for a minute and looked around. The man on the driver’s side moved to the entrance door to the warehouse, knocked on the door, it opened and he went inside. Moments later he reemerged and nodded at the other man by the car. The second man opened the back door and someone got out, too far to tell anything except the man was well dressed and his hair was black. My instincts told me this was Lucio, and he was well protected; alarm systems, video cameras, body guards, not an easy target.