A Quiet Street in El Paso

by Jim Daddio

  Hector didn’t reply. The man continued, “I have the money suit already to go. Please disrobe. This is a very good piece. It will be taped to your body. The money is in there.”

  Hector took off his shirt and pants. He looked at the money suit. It was white with little pockets. The material felt like silk. It was thin and long.

  The man began to wrap the suit around Hector’s body. He took a roll of tape and began to twist the tape starting right below his armpits and wrapped it all the way to Hector’s legs.

  “How does that feel?”

  “It’s okay. It is light.”

  The man laughed, “Not bad for holding two million dollars.”

  Hector pulled up his pants and put on his shirt. It felt tight but wasn’t noticeable.

  The man stepped back. “There. Nothing looks out of place. Just do what you do. I know your routine. You will go through the border crossing as usual. Drive to the house and deliver. You have a cell phone?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Give it to me. I don’t want you to call anyone, or for you to get a call.”

  “But…”

  “Just give me the phone.”

  Hector handed him his cell phone. The man said, “Here is a GPS and a slip of paper with the address. You know how to use one of these?”

  “Yes. We use them at the nursery.”

  “Good. When you leave here, plug in the address and you’ll find the house. Walk in, disrobe, and do it quickly. Return here for your payoff.”

  Hector turned and walked out to his car. He was walking stiffly, but he didn’t care. He didn’t worry. He had never had to get out of his car in the past.

  He approached the border. The line of cars seemed longer. He slowed down. He looked at his clock on the dashboard. He was early. He became very nervous. His mind was running wild. He was out of his routine. The border guards would be a different crew. They wouldn’t know him. They might ask him to get out of the truck. The dogs would sniff him. He couldn’t think. He decided to turn around. Go back home and wait. He tried to turn the car around. The lines on both sides were too long. A blast of a horn from the car behind him startled him. He looked ahead. He hadn't noticed the car in front had moved up. He had no choice.

  He was next. The car in front moved away. He inched up to the guard at his station. He didn’t recognize the guard. His hand shook as he reached for his work visa. He handed it to the guard. The man looked at the visa and back at Hector. He could feel the sweat forming on his neck. He tried a fake smile. It was taking too long. He tried to remain calm. Something wasn’t right.

  “Hector. I see you’re going in early this morning.”

  Hector relaxed. He didn’t recognize the guard, but he seemed to know him. He stuttered, “Yes…yes…I…”

  “Have a good one.” He handed the visa back to Hector.

  Hector breathed a sigh of relief as he drove down the road. He was through. Step one was completed.

  Thirty

  A man known only as Charlie sat in a comfortable lounge chair in his dark living room. He had been there since five in the morning. He had been informed by Fat Baby he would be the recipient of two million dollars. He would count the money, take twenty thousand for himself and wait for a man by the name of Mat to pick it up.

  Charlie had been Fat Baby’s accountant for many years, even before Fat Baby worked his way into the drug business. He was paid well for his services. Enough for him to live in a nice house, drive a luxury car and make a few trips to Vegas each year.

  This was the first time he had ever done this type of transaction. He knew Fat Baby was a gangster. A bad guy. But all he did was keep a set of books for him and do his taxes each year. On occasion, he would help Fat Baby launder money. Another transaction he knew was illegal. And it didn’t hurt that he had the best connection to supply his meth habit.

  Charlie knew what he did was against the law. But he had consulted an attorney who was also represented Fat Baby. The lawyer assured him he was just an accountant who didn’t know what kind of work his client did. He just was paid to do his taxes and other accounting jobs.

  He prepared a good dose of meth, sat back and closed his eyes waiting for the person who was to pick up the money. He fingered his plane ticket to Vegas. He would leave for the airport as soon as the money was picked up. He didn’t really understand why Fat Baby was going through such an elaborate plan to receive money coming out of Juarez. All he knew was to receive the money, take his share, and someone would pick up the remainder.

  Charlie began to wonder as he waited for the delivery of the money. He often thought back to his days in college at North Texas State. It was then he had become friends with several football players. He had a good reason. He tutored several team members in math. One of the players was a large black man by the name of Eugene Thompson.

  Eugene always said if it weren’t for Charlie, he would never have been able to keep his scholarship and continue on the football team. Charlie used to say if it weren’t for Eugene he wouldn’t have had the social life he'd had in college.

  Charlie was quiet, studious and shy. He wasn’t very popular in high school and didn’t change much when he went to North Texas State. He was just another student who went unrecognized around the campus. But Charlie was good at one thing: math. He excelled both in high school and college. When he was approached by the athletic department to tutor several football and basketball players, he agreed when he found out he would be paid for his time.

  During his senior year, he developed a relationship with Eugene. After they graduated, Charlie kept in touch with him and learned Eugene had moved to El Paso. At that time, Eugene was working for an oil company in its marketing department. Charlie was working as an accountant in a small firm. They connected, and Charlie did his taxes. Charlie smiled to himself when he recalled a phone conversation, he’d had two years earlier.

  ~ * ~

  “Charlie. It’s Eugene. How you doin’?”

  “Hey, Eugene, what is going on? We haven’t talked in almost a year. I tried calling the number you gave me, but it was disconnected.”

  “I’ve been movin’ around, you know. You still with that firm?”

  “Still here and hating every minute of it. But it’s a paycheck. What can I say?”

  “Well, you’re about to get promoted.”

  “How’s that?”

  “First, my name is now Fat Baby…”

  Charlie cut him off. “What? What the hell is…did you say Fat Baby?”

  “Just listen for a minute. I am no longer Eugene Thompson. Get it. From now on call me Fat Baby. And I’m hiring you to do the books for my company.”

  “Okay. I guess. I mean…”

  “How much are you making at that company?”

  “Forty thousand a year.”

  “How’s one hundred thou sound?”

  “Pardon?”

  “I never will forget how you taught me how to really use computers. I mean really use them. And the way you trained me on working a spreadsheet. Without your help and training I wouldn’t have been able to accomplish what I have today.”

  “Thanks Eugene tha…”

  Fat Baby snapped, “It’s Fat Baby. Don’t forget that. I need you to meet me at the Main Street Café around noon tomorrow. I will fill you in…and welcome aboard.” The phone went dead before Charlie could respond.

  Now two years later, Charlie Longstreet still couldn’t believe Fat Baby was a drug lord and he was living a great life at 11646 El Camino Real; a quiet street in El Paso.

  ~ * ~

  Mat made the call. Fat Baby answered. “Change of plans. I’m sending a lady to pick up the money.”

  There was a long silence on the other end. Finally, Fat Baby said, “I don’t like this. I told you why I chose you. Remember; trust. Why this change?”

  “You should know I wouldn’t do this unless it was the best way. I’m being cautious. If your plan has a flaw and the authorities are alerted, I stand
a chance of being the one who gets caught. I can’t take that chance.”

  “Then who?”

  “Just a lady friend. She is in this with me.”

  Mat could easily detect a change in Fat Baby’s voice. “Let me say this, my friend. If you fuck this up, I can guarantee you will not live long enough to remember your own name.”

  “I won’t let it happen.” The phone went dead.

  Mat joined Sue in the bedroom. She was sitting on the bed.

  “You going to tell me what I am picking up.”

  “You don’t need to know.”

  “Oh, that’s cool. I get to where I’m going and the person hands me a bag of shit and I say, oh, thanks. Come on, I need to know so I can make sure I’m not getting screwed.”

  “You won’t get screwed. The person knows what he has to do.”

  “Drugs. Its drugs, ain’t it? I don’t like that. I may smoke a joint with you, but I don’t like…”

  “It’s not drugs. It’s a business deal. That’s all you need to know.”

  Sue reached over and grabbed the snub nosed .38 pistol Mat had given her. She laughed and pointed it at Mat. He screamed, “Jesus, how many times have I told you not to do that.”

  “There’s no bullets in it,” Sue said.

  “I don’t give a damn. Put it down.”

  “I like it. And I did damn good with it at the range. I hit the target every time.” She pointed the gun toward the ceiling. “Bang. Bang…got you.”

  “Come on, Sue, this is not funny. You may have to use it. Who knows?”

  “I’ll be ready…bang…bang.”

  ~ * ~

  Charlie answered his cell. “Hello.”

  “A change in plans. A lady will be picking up the money. It’s seven. The delivery should be on time. Eight. The pickup is at nine. Do your thing and have it in a suitcase.”

  “Got it, man.”

  “And remember…trust.”

  “Yeah…yeah…trust.” He heard a buzzing sound in his ear.

  ~ * ~

  It hadn’t been a good couple of weeks for Fred. He met with a lawyer and gave him a copy of all his documents relating to the two contracts the company had received. Two days later, the attorney called and said after reviewing all the information it appeared to be very complicated and it would take his staff at least two months to understand how to prepare the briefs and be able to file a suit. Fred felt like he didn’t seem too enthused on taking the case.

  He had also been networking. He had been disappointed at the fact several companies he had worked with showed no interest when he talked to them. He had a great story to tell. He had been with Strategic Electronics for two years. It was well documented he was personally responsible in taking a small, local electronic sub-contractor who worked mainly small jobs and growing them into a well-known company, winning large contracts not only with the local government but with the federal government as well. He had tripled their revenue in two years.

  None of that seemed to matter. He could only think Canterbury had put out some bad and false information about him. He was desperately trying to find out if it was true. He could use this type of slander in his lawsuit.

  He spent part of the day reviewing their financial position. With the money Janice was bringing in from the flower shop and the unemployment plus the money in their money market account, he figured they could last about six months. After that there wouldn’t be enough cash left or coming in to pay their bills. His only thought was if he couldn’t land a similar position with similar pay he would have to put a second mortgage on the house. Something Janice was absolutely against. He had to tell himself to stay calm and work harder to find a job.

  Fred sat in his office in a white tee-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. He hadn’t shaved or showered in two days. He had hardly seen Janice in several days. She would leave very early in the morning before he woke and wouldn’t return until after nine each night. She was working the extra hours hoping to bring in more revenue.

  Fred was surviving on soup and sandwiches. He spent hours every day on the computer and on the phone. At first, he was confident he would land a job quickly but as it turned out, he was a statistic, an unemployed executive. He had been ashamed to file for unemployment but when he heard the amount, he would receive he filed online and was about to receive his first check.

  “Fuck ‘em,” he called out. “I’ll find a job with the competition and bury that bastard.”

  Thirty-one

  The Captain watched intently as the news of Juan Carlos’s death was reported. He too had feared the man. He had tried for years to meet him and form a large and powerful cartel. But he was untouchable. He wanted it all. There were some people who told The Captain it was his men who killed the professor so the blame would fall on him and Juan could take over his operation.

  He picked up his phone.

  “I have been told by several people it is time for me to return to Mexico and take charge. I am not ready. My family is in Spain and I just returned from visiting them. They are happy there. And if everything I have planned takes place, I will be able to join them and live a very comfortable life.”

  The voice on the other end replied, “You are a weak man. You have let people take your strength away from you. Your time is now. There is no leader. The country cries for you. Mexico is a poor country. It is drug exporting that fuels our economy. You know all the right people in our government who will work with us. They know what we do benefits our country.”

  The man known as The Captain remained silent. The other man continued to talk. “I am arranging a meeting in Mexico City. I know some people to invite. I need you and your list to complete the meeting. Our time is now.”

  “I am sorry. I will not attend.” The buzzing sound echoed in his ear as the conversation ended.

  The Captain knew the members of his team involved in the transaction to bring the two million dollars into the States were nervous. It wasn’t the amount that kept him on edge. It was the people involved with carrying it out that worried him. To some of the people, two million big ones was a life changing amount. To the drug dealers it was a few weeks of dealings.

  The new members of cartel were very concerned. Everybody involved was part of Fat Baby’s team. At any time, someone along the way could be tempted to take the money and run.

  The Captain had been informed from an inside man in Fat Baby’s operation that an El Paso detective was to pick up the money. His name was Mat. He did make some calls and was able to learn the address of the house to which the money was to be delivered.

  He sat at a long table with his men. “We have done well. But it is time to begin to take control of the fat man’s operation. We must watch this transaction that is going to take place this morning. We have found out through an inside source the address of the delivery. A two-man team is on their way as we speak. If anything goes wrong, it will be our chance to make a move.”

  One of the men spoke. “What if we make it go wrong? What if the deal does not go down as planned? We then tell the fat man his team can no longer be trusted, and we are taking over the operation.”

  The Captain sat silent. He was interested in what his associate had said. He looked over at him. “What are your thoughts?”

  “We must remember this is our money. We are giving it to Fat Baby for a show of good faith. If the money does not make it to his hands, there will be accusations. We will accuse him of having untrustworthy people on his team. He will accuse us of taking the money back. We will tell him we knew nothing about how the money was to be delivered. All we did was drop off the money at the house of one of his people in Juarez. Either way he is caught in the middle. It will be our chance to take control of a weakened man. He will then work for us…completely.”

  “So, you suggest we intercept the money. Blame it on his men. He should kill all of them because he will not know who is telling the truth or who is lying. He could never suspect us. We will have our money back and then
take control.”

  Another man spoke. “This must be done correctly. We have very little time to decide. The money is on its way. We can do this if we act quickly.”

  “I am concerned about one thing. The man who is picking up the money is a detective. We must be careful. I can only think this man is on Fat Baby’s payroll, but I still want to be cautious. I like the plan, but we need to make sure it goes down the way Fat Baby planned it. I believe it will be best if we have two of our men follow the detective and inform us when the pickup is made. We do know the money will then be delivered to the fat man. At that point, we will make our move and take control before the money is delivered. I will be in contact with our people and instruct them to observe and follow. We will then have time to make our move.”

  ~ * ~

  Fred grabbed a cup of coffee and gazed out toward the back yard. An evening rain had cooled down the temperature. He pulled the large sliding glass doors open as wide as they could go. He took a deep breath and stood enjoying the cool breeze.

  Janice had already left for her day at the flower shop. She had been leaving earlier every morning. Several mornings Fred would still be sleeping when she left the house.

  Their relationship seemed to be deteriorating over the past weeks. Janice had become cold and distant. She constantly worried about money and was dead set against a second mortgage. Fred knew the numbers and it was the only way they could keep the house.

  Fred slumped down in the lounge chair and took a long swig of coffee. He was surprised and disappointed that the several companies he felt sure would offer him a job had not responded to his e-mails or phone messages. Again, he thought for sure his old bosses were spreading stories about him. He had to do something about it. He had to confront Russell and Canterbury.

  He finished his coffee and walked back into the living room. He talked out loud, “I’ll turn off the air conditioner. The morning breeze is cool enough.” It seemed Fred had been talking out loud to himself more and more each day.