by Alec Peche
“Hello Dr. Quint,” Briggs said when he answered his cell phone.
“Hey detective. I've got a weird request.”
“Oh and all the other questions you had for us were routine?”
“Well, yes they were.”
“Before you give me your request, the senator's case is closed.”
“I don't understand, how did it close so fast? Did she confess and agree to go to jail?”
“No, she's dead. We received notice out of France that she was involved in a car accident and was killed. The officials tried to make a notification to the Mexican Embassy as she was carrying a passport that said she was a citizen of Mexico. They had no record of her in their system, and so using her fingerprints they determined who she was and called our embassy and notifications went from there. So we'll plow those Marijuana fields and that will be the end of that case.”
“Do you know when she was declared dead?”
“Why, do you want to do her autopsy?”
“Ah, no. I received an email from her and I want to know if the send time is before or after she was killed.”
“What!”
“Yeah, I got an email from someone who signed it 'Stephanie Harris'. I have no way to know who really sent the email, but a good starting place would be her time of death.”
“Just a moment,” Briggs said and Jill could tell he put his hand over the phone and said something to someone.
“Heyer will find the time of death. Tell me about this email.”
Jill did as requested including her identification of the man.
“Wow, that's major and interesting news....So there's a major movement of drugs every couple of weeks through the dock on her property according to the late senator.”
“Yes.”
There were noises in the background, then Briggs came back on the phone. “The senator's time of death is listed as 14:46 CET. I guess that's the time zone in France.”
Jill was googling the time zone and looking at the date listed on the email.
“It looks like she sent this email, about an hour before her death. I guess I won't be taking an ad in the Times-Picayune to tell her the man has been arrested.”
“No I don't think anyone cares about the Black Oak Plantation at this point,” Heyer said. Briggs must have put the call on speakerphone.
“So what are you going to do with this email?”
“Good question,” Jill heard Briggs mutter.
“I have a good friend in narcotics. Let me talk to her. Can I call you back on your cell, Jill?” Heyer said.
“Yes, please do.”
“Would you forward me the email?”
“I just hit the forward button. Do you see it in your inbox?”
There was a pause and she heard Briggs say, “Got it,” and they ended the call.
She debated calling Special Agent Ortiz, but she didn't want to complicate things for Briggs and Heyer if they could do something within their own department to stop this flow of narcotics. She felt an urgency to do something though because she thought Mr. Rodriguez would move his criminal enterprise as soon as he heard of the senator's death. In her view, they needed a sting operation today. She'd give the two detectives an hour to call her back, then she'd go after bigger guns than the New Orleans Police Department. In her heart, she felt like they would drag their feet because they knew the plantation was out of their jurisdiction, but she'd called them because of the airport security cameras. She was lacking the patience to wait out Heyer and Briggs, so she ran upstairs to change into her running clothes and was out beating a path with Trixie at her side. She supposed she should worry about a hit man, but she rationalized her way to the belief that no one was after her.
Thirty-five minutes later she was nearing her house, her run nearly at an end, when her cell phone vibrated on her waist. Stopping, she pulled the cell phone out of the waist belt to see who was calling. It was a blocked number which probably meant it was Briggs or Heyer.
Gulping for air, she answered “Hello”.
“Jill it's Heyer. I'm afraid it's a 'no-go' from our end. My friend in narcotics said that indeed if this is urgent to call the feds. Her unit is unaware of this transport route and they would have to verify its existence and then coordinate with their local narcs since this is out of our area. Personally, I think she's so overwhelmed by the workload inside the city, that pursuing something beyond the city is not going to happen. She gave me the name of the DEA agent in charge of this area for contact and I have a call there. If there's an arrest there, we'll let you know.”
Jill had recovered her breathing by the end of Detective Heyer's explanation, but really had nothing to say. She was disappointed, but understood the narcotics detective's rationale. They ended their call and Jill debated what to do next. There was only one person she could call. She approached the front steps to her house and went inside to grab a towel to wipe the sweat from her face. Then she sat down on her porch steps, Trixie at her side with a look of dog exhilaration from the run, put her phone on speaker and called Special Agent Ortiz.
“Hi Jill, it's been about two weeks. Have you gotten into trouble already?”
“Haha. No I have a strange twist in the New Orleans case, and I wanted to make sure that I covered all the bases,” Jill said providing the day's update.
“If there was anyone else but you on the other end of this phone call, I'd wonder what hallucinogen you were taking. Since I was your second call, then one, you have a game plan in your head and two, the New Orleans Police Department detectives were unable to satisfy the goals of your plan. So what do you want done?”
“I want someone to give me access to the security cameras at the International Airport. If I can find the man in the video, then the FBI will know that a man on Interpol's and your list is likely in the area. I'm speaking of your most wanted list. Then I want you to set up a sting operation to catch this guy and completely destroy the Midwest drug distribution and arrest or kill everyone involved in drug smuggling.”
“Is that all?” asked Ortiz sarcastically.
“Yes, that's all I want,” Jill said with cheer in her voice.
Jill heard this big sigh and then a dial tone. Special Agent Ortiz had hung up on her. What did that mean? Was she carrying on with Jill's requests? She stood there looking at her phone and realized how stupid that was. So she stood up and stretched and headed inside for a shower. She'd give the agent an hour before she went to the trouble to think of a new game plan.
She was in her kitchen ninety minutes later preparing her lunch, when her phone rang. Great she thought looking at the green avocado fruit all over her hands from cutting one up. She licked one finger and then reached over to answer the phone.
“This is Jill Quint,” she called out while searching for a paper towel to get her hands clean.
“You're lucky I have a big enough reputation in the FBI to survive a weird request like this one and one that is out of my territory. If you'll take your laptop with the identity software into Sheriff Arstand's office, he'll connect to the Sheriff in New Orleans in charge of airport security so that you can scan their cameras. They have thirty days in storage so see if you can find your man. If you can, we may take more steps, but find your man first.”
“On my way,” and Jill was out the door within ten minutes and on her way to the Sheriff's office.
Thirty minutes later she was connected to airport security video storage unit and was flying through their archive. She got multiple hits for their suspect and it was so obvious, Jill was amazed, he'd never triggered some kind of alert. He was seen on the cameras every Tuesday and Thursday. He appeared to arrive on Tuesday and depart on Thursday based on the direction he was walking. Did that mean that a shipment arrived every Tuesday or Wednesday?
Today was Thursday which meant that if she watched long enough she would see him pass through, but to Jill that wasn't important. A shipment would be arriving on the coming Tuesday or Wednesday night. If the DEA or
police could have a team in place, then they would likely catch the men involved.
She called Special Agent Ortiz and said, “Mr. Ricardo Rodriguez moves in and out of the New Orleans airport every Tuesday and Thursday. That suggests to me that the shipment is arriving at the plantation dock on Tuesday or Wednesday of next week. Is that enough time for someone to have a team in place?”
“I can't discuss the details of an op with a civilian, but I'll just say that we're on it.”
“Did you hear that sound?” Jill asked.
“What sound?”
“The sound of my eyes rolling, but if that's the way you want to play it go ahead. Give me a call next week and tell me you've captured the suspect and the world's a little bit safer.”
“Will do,” and they ended their call.
Chapter 35
Jill was relaying her conversation later that day to Nathan. He shook his head at what a busy day she'd had and the potential of her work to end a large criminal enterprise. She made him proud to know her in so many ways. Then she had gone from the world of criminals to her plan for her wine expansion without a break. Wow, he felt lucky to know her, love her, and share the passion of wine with her.
He discussed her concepts against trends he was seeing in the wine market from other vintners and thought she was choosing the right grapes.
“The Viognier grape is notoriously hard to grow, so you may end up buying more juice there if you don't get the production out of your own vines. When are you going to begin experimenting with these new grapes?”
“I ordered the juice already so really as soon as it arrives. Are you planning on being my guinea pig?”
“You bet. Just have me taste once you think you have the right mix, some of those grapes you're mixing can be very acidic if you don't get it right. Spare me that stage,” he said with a grin.
“Of course, do you think I'd poison you?” Jill leaned in and gave him an elbow and then her cell phone rang.
She frowned, looking at the clock, “I wonder who's calling so late. It's almost ten pm.”
“This is Dr. Quint,” Jill said thinking it might be a potential client.
“Hi Jill, it's Special Agent Ortiz and I have an update for you that I think you'll enjoy.”
“Nathan is here with me, so I'm going to put you on speaker phone.”
“So here's a summary of the night in Louisiana. Mr. Rodriguez and ten of his men are in Federal detention and the DEA is in possession of ten tons of various illicit street drugs with a value of about $200 million dollars. The DEA asked me to pass their thanks on to you for your help.”
Jill paused for a moment thinking about the cache of drugs and said, “Today's Thursday, it wasn't supposed to be a shipment day. What happened?”
“Since you alerted law enforcement to expect Mr. Rodriguez at the airport today there were agents ready to tail him through the airport and get on his plane. He passed a newsstand and did a double take. So our guys moved closer to see what was concerning him. There's a front page, large headline story of the senator's unfortunate death in a fiery car accident.”
“Wow, they published that news quickly.”
“Yes, so he left the newsstand and made several phone calls, all in Spanish and we could neither hear no understand his words. Thirty minutes later he left the airport in a car rental shuttle bus and picked up a rental car and began heading north we thought to the plantation. We managed to get several undercover agents on the senator's property with about ninety minutes notice. Kudos to my brothers and sisters in the FBI, DEA, and State police that got the operation going with so little notice.
“He arrived on the dark property followed by two vans and then they all sat and waited. Just after midnight, a ship pulled into the dock and began unloading pallets of fertilizer.”
“Except they weren't.”
“Except it was a pallet of cocaine, methamphetamine, and fentanyl all headed north for distribution.”
Jill clapped her hands in glee hearing about the arrests and seizure of the drugs and paused to ask, “Were any agents injured?”
“A few were bitten to death by mosquitoes and other bugs, but no alligators got any of the men nor did Rodriguez and his men. They weren't armed and didn't have night vision equipment to outrun the law.”
“That's all great news! The case is finally closed. A man gets poisoned by nutmeg and that paves the way for the destruction of a drug distribution ring that's earned over a billion dollars for the Mexican drug lords over its existence. In the end, the senator finally did something right that permitted the end to this ring.”
“Kudos to the men and women in Louisiana and I've been asked to introduce you to some leaders in on the sting. They 'want you to have more than me in your Rolodex for when you spot a bad criminal that needs arresting.' That's a direct quote from the DEA.”
Jill laughed and replied, “I'm just a simple winegrower. As long as I have you Special Agent Ortiz in my Rolodex, I don't seem to need anyone else. You take me at my word and get things in motion.”
“Glad I could help my colleagues and I think that man who owns the special software is about to see new interest from the United States.”
“I'll pass that on to Henrik! Do you know if Mrs. Cheval was notified about these circumstances related to the death of her son?”
“I'll check back with my colleagues and suggest that they do that. It might ease her heart a little to know that his death was the tip of the iceberg that allowed the authorities to uncover a large drug ring. It won't bring back her son, but perhaps it will bring her some solace.”
They said a few more words and then ended the call.
Jill had been typing slowly while she was on the phone with Ortiz. She paused a moment reading what she wrote and then hit one more key.
“I just dropped a note to Jo, Angela, Marie, and Alicia letting them know what happened. They each had a role in ending this drug distribution ring.”
Nathan picked up his wine glass and gestured that she do the same. Once she raised it, he said “To you Dr. Jill Quint. Thank you for making our world just a little better today and every day.” The toast led to a kiss, followed by an adjournment to his bedroom.
The End
Also by Alec Peche
Jill Quint, MD Forensic Pathologist Series
Vials
Chocolate Diamonds
A Breck Death
Death On A Green
A Taxing Death
Murder At The Podium
Castle Killing
Crescent City Murder
Damian Green Series
Red Rock Island
Willow Glen Heist
The Girl From Diana Park
About the Author
I reside in Northern California with my rescue dog and two cats. I love to travel, play sports, read, and drink wine and beer. I enjoy the diversity of the world and I'm always watching people and events for story ideas. In a prior life, I worked in healthcare which powers my medical knowledge for Dr. Quint.
If you would like to sign up for my monthly blog and announcement of new books, please follow this link: https://www.alecpeche.com/
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