Private Trouble - A Troubleshooter Novella

Chapter Five The Lesson

Paul had no time to contact or visit Sandy, as his deployment deadline was looming. So he simply drove to the next post office, bought a small box with padding, and mailed the watch and earrings to her. He was undecided about whether to add a note, something along the lines of Sorry it didn't work out, but could think of nothing eloquent enough. He was a soldier, not a poet, and at nineteen he hadn't realized yet that sometimes simple words from the heart were at least as powerful as carefully composed poetry. So the box went away without explanation, rejoining Sandy and her grandmother's memory.

The coming weeks were a blur in Paul's mind. The deployment went uneventfully, a troop plane full of geared-up Marines. Bosnia was hot, sleepless, boring, dangerous, and absolute madness. Then a situation arose in Liberia that led to an especially daring rescue mission of a kidnapped senior manager of an oil company. Paul had the luck to fly the executive out back to the US. After eight weeks, Paul was back in the states for one night only to leave again the next evening to rejoin his unit. The bed was great, he had a whole room to himself, but couldn't sleep out of sheer normality, jetlag, and constant adrenaline production after 96 hours of non-stop action. So after a few failed attempts to fall asleep, he decided to head out off base to see if there was a sports bar where he could do some people- and game-watching. Normal life.

It was Wednesday night, not the busiest night, nor the slowest. Paul found a place with TVs mounted to the wall, some people playing pool, and he claimed a sweet spot at the bar where he could watch the guests, the game, and the street life at the same time. Real-life zapping after a long time in a real-life video game.

He had a burger during halftime, stuck to soft drinks, and when he had just ordered a second Coke, someone tapped on his shoulder.

"Officer Lopez, either promoted to plain clothes detective or off-duty?" Paul greeted the young officer.

"I remember you, Private Trouble, wasn't it?"

"Make it Paul."

"I'm Mario. Hah, plain clothes, I wish! Working on that. No, I'm off-duty tonight." Lopez mounted the chair beside Paul, caught the eye of the bartender, and pointed at the Coors tap. "You look positively more sunburned than the last time we met. Back from deployment?"

"I'm still stationed in Europe, just home for an errand from Africa. I'm flying back tomorrow."

"Sorry we couldn't retrieve the stolen goods from the robbery your girlfriend and you were involved in," Lopez said.

"That's not a problem," Paul said, thinking a little sheepishly about his own private retrieval mission. "But at least you caught the guys who did it."

Lopez looked at him. "What do you mean? We never caught the guys."

Paul was silent for a beat. Was there some confusion? "But didn't you and Officer Wainwright arrest the guys after my tip?"

Lopez sat upright, pushing back his beer without drinking. "Your tip? What are you talking about?"

Paul gave a brief summary of the conversation he had had with Officer Wainwright before his deployment.

"Hang on. Slow mo' time." Lopez collected his thoughts. "You followed the guys to a house. They settled in, so it was not a break-in or a temporary visit?"

"No, it was clearly their crib."

"And you contacted Officer Wainwright and told him of your observation?"

"Actually I dialed the number on the card you gave me. There was a desk sergeant on duty who took my call. Female. Funny name. Moody? I asked for either one of you and she connected me to Wainwright. Check with her if she failed to pass it on."

Lopez shook his head. "I'm not aware of any arrest. And I would have known as I'd been the responding officer in two of the suspected robberies. Plus, my partner would have told me."

Paul turned back to his beer and continued to watch the game. Lopez continued to stare at Paul.

"What?"

Paul shrugged. "Nothing. I know what I did, and I did the right thing. Someone didn't."

"Are you crazy? Wainwright and I have worked together for two years. He's looking forward to his retirement coming December."

Paul signaled the bartender for a piece of paper and a pen. "I'll write down two addresses for you. The first one is the place where the robbers live. Or lived. After a month I'm not so sure anymore."

"And the second?"

Paul wrote and folded the paper. Lopez wanted to take it but Paul pulled it back. "I didn't tell you the complete story of that night, but it's irrelevant. I'm on deployment, and I don't want to be involved. At all. That is the condition under which I give you the piece of paper." Paul held up his finger to stop Lopez's attempt to say something. "And don't give me any shit about withholding evidence or obstructing justice. By giving you this information, you'll be able to break a big case."

Lopez snatched away the piece of paper. "Big case, my ass. Do you have any idea what fire I'll get from my fellow police officers for ratting out my partner? I won't get a new partner assigned, ever."

"Please spare me this heartfelt stuff," Paul said. "Your partner is incompetent or dirty. Either he simply forgot to follow up on my tip because he was drunk or he's lost his motivation so close to retirement. Or he made some sort of arrangement with these guys. When I was in the house, there were drugs and stolen goods around. A commission could make the difference between a retirement spent in a trailer park in Manassas or in Florida on the golf course."

Lopez unfolded the paper. "Second address is outside city limits. What will I find?" he asked.

"A pawnshop, one of the outlet channels for the robbers. The name Rafa here is the conduit, the cousin of one of the guys."

"How come you know the underworld structure of this town so well?"

"The address is about twenty yards outside of city limits."

"What does that prove?"

"I think you'll get a double slam without the need to rat out your partner. I did notice the twenty yards distance when I went there, but didn't get the significance."

"I don't get it."

"The robberies happen within city and county limits. Shielded from prosecution by your partner. The pawnshop is the outlet, outside of your jurisdiction. But why is it not checked on a regular basis like other pawnshops? The owner, a guy called Decker, was pretty open to show me the hot stuff. It was right in his back office, not on some other site. Ergo: someone from the county's sheriff office is shielding him."

Lopez stared at the piece of paper, processing. Trouble was right, something was fishy.

Then at Paul. "Did you just say Ergo?"

"We read our De Bello Gallico in Montana."

"Those long winters freeze up your brains, no doubt."

Paul felt he had enough after ninety-eight hours in his bones. He put money on the table. "Do the right thing, officer. Bring in someone from state police. Work a deal with Decker to bring down the county sheriff insider and then wait until the domino effect reaches Wainwright. You avoid any direct fingering of your partner. And keep your nose clean yourself. And maybe make a good impression to the detectives or internal affairs."

Lopez just stared at him. Did this grunt just lay out a case, prosecution strategy of a large insider case, and his career plan?

Paul looked around the bar once more, took in the scene as some sort of mental snapshot of normal life, and walked to the exit.

"Trouble!" Lopez shouted over the music and the noise as Paul had almost reached the door. "Good luck over there."

Paul smiled over his shoulder. "Good luck over here."

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---- Door to bar revolves slowly back to closed.....Fade out. Hope you enjoyed the story. There will be some more Novellas popping up on some reading/publishing platforms, so look around and stay updated through my social channels on facebook.com/alexameswriting  or twitter.com/alexameswriting or my writer's homepage on www.alexames.net