by Pat Muir
Wednesday morning went as planned. I dropped the car off among similar inconspicuously parked vehicles on the street about fifty yards from the subject house, and turned on the camera. Steve picked me up at the end of the street and took me to his home, a small, three-bedroom house built in the fifties.
“I bought this house ten years ago,” he remarked. “It was the only house I could afford at the time.”
“Yes, but it’s convenient to the office,” I said. “I was lucky enough to buy my condominium in Carmel Valley directly from an owner who had lost all his savings in the stock market slump of 2002.”
Inside, Steve introduced me to his wife, a pretty oriental woman named Emanya, who returned to the kitchen after shaking hands with me. A small boy emerged and clung to Steve’s legs while looking askance at me. “This is Shane, who I work with,” said Steve, lifting the child up. “Austin, shake hands, please.”
The little boy stuck a hand out at me, his face a little fearful at seeing a black woman taller than his father in the house. I was reminded of the pleasure I’d had with my own son at that age.
“Nice to meet you, Austin,” I said, a wide smile on my face. Emanya served us a breakfast of fried eggs, sausages, mushrooms, and hash browns, which Steve devoured with relish. It was a much bigger breakfast than I normally eat, but I consumed it all to avoid embarrassing my hostess. She disappeared into the kitchen with Austin, leaving Steve and me together.
“I met Emanya in Japan when I was in the Navy,” volunteered Steve.
“Why did you leave the navy and get into law enforcement?” I asked.
“I had become a lieutenant,” replied Steve, “and I could see I would have tours of duty away from home to gain promotion. I didn’t think it fair to Emanya, who misses her family in Japan. The other thing is that the navy, indeed the military, is very hierarchal in nature. It doesn’t allow the individual initiative that I enjoy as a detective.”
“So, you retired from the navy ten years ago?” I asked.
“Yes. After studying at the San Diego Regional Academy, I worked for the city police before moving to the sheriff’s department, which pays better. I was a patrol deputy for two years before I became an area detective in the burglary division. It took me another three years to get into the homicide unit, which we know is the premier section in the division.”
“You made very good progress,” I remarked, speaking honestly, while thinking how my own progress might have been faster if I’d had his advantage of being white, a man, and a veteran. The sheriff’s administration had encouraged the recruitment of minorities like myself and might have relaxed entrance standards to do so. The practical result was that non-minorities disliked the perceived advantages we had and felt we were not quite as capable. I had to work very hard to prove that I was, in fact, equally as capable as them. I could see Steve would rise in our division. He liked his work and was both smart and diligent. I was lucky to have his assistance in the case.
Steve asked me a few personal questions, and then we began to talk about local events, the news, and politics. The latter wasn’t a good choice, since he, like most veterans, was conservative, while my background makes me a centrist or slightly left politically. We passed the time until 8:45 a.m., half an hour after Collins should have picked up the money package. I bid goodbye to Emanya and Austin, and Steve drove me back to the camera car. I took a quick look at its recording and told Steve that we had what we wanted and that I would see him later at our 10:30 meeting.
Back at the office, I looked at the camera recording in detail on my computer screen. It showed a large white Mercury sedan, license number 4CWH265, arriving at 7:51 a.m. at the Clairemont house and leaving at 7:56 a.m. That car had magnetic decals on its side saying “Jiminez Real Estate” and a phone number. I moved the recording to Collins’s arrival, which had occurred at exactly 8:10 a.m., only fourteen minutes after the drop, a time barely enough for Bolder to enter the house and add the marked bills in an appropriate mix—strong motivation to impede Collins. It took Collins just five minutes to leave his car and return to it, a time consistent with his stop at the Mira Mesa house.
I grabbed a detective, Baker, from the fraud section and asked him to identify the registered owner of the Mercury and his address. I gave him the camera recording. “Check with the Department of Real Estate to see if he is a sales agent with Jiminez, and don’t do anything to alert his being investigated,” I commanded. “Find out his home address,” I added.
I got a hold of a smart deputy by the name of Emily Rose and told her I wanted her help in a major operation that she should discuss with no one, including fellow deputies. “Be ready for my call at 5:30 Thursday morning, where I will tell you where to go. You will then call our contract tow operator when I give you the time and have him block a certain car at a certain location. You should be in either your own car or an unmarked car if the transport pool has one available, and you should not be in uniform.”
“Why don’t you tell me that location now,” asked Emily, “so I have plenty of time to be there in the morning?”
“This operation is hush-hush, and full details will not be released until tomorrow morning. I can tell you that it will be in North County, and I will give you the specific location Thursday morning. You will tell the tow truck operator where you are to meet and advise him which car he is to block and then disappear. You will observe the car owner searching for the tow truck operator and will wait for twenty minutes before calling for unblocking.”
Emily nodded her understanding, and I gave further instructions. “When that is done, you will call me at the communications center and tell me the exact time the car owner left.”
I gave Emily a key to our leased office and a radio receiver with encryption channels and told her which channel to use. “You will then drive to an office whose address I will give you tomorrow, unlock it, and wait inside for further advice.”
I then ordered up two surveillance teams, one to monitor Collins and the other to monitor the drop man. I figured the drop man would much more likely spot tailing from the drop house rather than tailing to the drop house. I did not inform Ryan of this and felt I was technically in compliance with his stricture. I simply could not afford to have Collins find Bolder inside. I asked their team leaders, Verbinski and Wallace, to come to my meeting. I told them to have their surveillance teams ready for deployment by 5:30 a.m. on Thursday.
A courier brought marked bills from the DEA office. They comprised twenty and one-hundred-dollar bills, each in packages of one hundred and tied with thick elastic bands. That detail nudged my memory, and I immediately phoned Bolder to get a hold of a portable package sealer and practice using it. I asked Hanson, another junior detective in our homicide section, to be at my ten-thirty briefing.
Just before the meeting, Baker got a hold of me. “The registered owner of the Mercury is a Geraldo Perana, with an address in San Ysidro, near the Mexican border. I looked at the photo on his DMV license, and I felt reasonably certain he was the man getting out of the car. He was of the same height and weight, and he wore glasses, as required in the license.”
“Well done, Baker,” I said. “Please follow this up by getting a warrant for his arrest and the search of his home based upon suspicion of drug money possession. Also, please get me half a dozen photos of Perana.”
Baker said he would be happy to do so and asked me to put in a good word for him to transfer to the homicide detail. I asked him to come to the briefing and bring his partner with him.
The ten-thirty meeting started with my requesting the assembled crew to stand up and introduce themselves. Thompson did not show. Baker had brought his partner, Watts, with him. I then began with my opening statement.
“Thanks for coming to this operational meeting. We want to catch people involved in a drug money drop and pickup, part of what we believe is a major money laundering operation. We will let you know where it is to take place tomorrow morning. You will be issued radios wi
th the encryption option at the end of this meeting so I can inform you as to the what, the where, and the when. Drug money is dropped and picked up at a location I will know by very early tomorrow morning. It triggers our start time of 5:30 a.m. We want to catch the delivery person after he has made the drop and away from the drop position. We also want to follow the person who picks up the drug money to where he takes it, where other team members will arrest him. Absolutely no word of this operation must leave this meeting. That is why I am not giving out address and other info until we are sure the drop and pickup are in progress.”
I paused before continuing. Hanson asked, “Is this anything to do with the raids Sergeant Thompson is organizing?”
Furious that others outside my team already knew of the associated raids, I replied abruptly, “Yes. The word should not have gotten out.” I clenched my fists and swallowed as I tried to contain my fury. It took me a half-minute before I could speak calmly. “Let me detail what we are to do and who is doing it. I handed out photos of Perana. “Verbinski, I will give you this drop man’s home address tomorrow. I believe he will start from home, though I am not certain. I do not know if he has the drop funds already or if he will be picking them up. Your task is to monitor the progress of this man’s white Mercury towards the drop address, which you will be given at the start time. You’ll get the car’s license number tomorrow. If he stops to pick up or receive money, see if you can find out about it. The case is so sensitive that I would rather you not investigate than be spotted.” Jackson, Ryan and Thompson would kill me if that were to happen. “Wallace, your task will be to monitor the progress of a blue Honda Civic to the drop address. You won’t have to tail it since it has a transponder. I’m having someone delay the Honda from leaving its home site, just so you now. You’ll position your cars along the route and tell me when it passes. You’ll get its license number and start location tomorrow.”
Verbinski and Wallace asked if I could give them some general location to help them position their team, and I told them it would be South and North San Diego County respectively. “Baker and Watts, I want you to be walking or jogging”—I pointed my finger at the trim-looking Watts—“along opposite ends of the street where the drop and pickup take place. Your task will be to monitor the arrival and departure times of the two perps. After they have both gone, I want you, Baker, to pick up a couple of deputies and follow the drop man to his end destination, where you will arrest him and get an evidence team to search his home. Verbinski’s team is to guide you on his return. Wallace, your team can disassemble once our pickup man has reached his final destination.
“Hanson, you’ll go with Bolder in an unmarked car and park it where it can’t be seen by the drop address or its approaches. You will drive to the drop address as soon as you get the go signal from Baker, Watts, or Steve Hall that the drop man has driven away around the corner. Bolder, you will enter the drop house and add marked bills to the dropped package and will exit as expeditiously as you can. It is extremely important that the pickup man in his blue Honda does not see you.”
“Where will this package be in the house?” asked Bolder.
“It will be semi-hidden, such as under the kitchen sink, under a vanity, in the water or furnace closet, or even in a cabinet drawer. Timing is critical. You won’t have more than ten minutes to get into the house and leave.”
“I take it the house is vacant?” asked Bolder.
“Yes. There will be nobody in the house.”
“And if there is?”
I felt fortunate to have people like Bolder on my team, asking tough questions like this. I felt like saying that wouldn’t happen, but I gave an answer that would better satisfy my questioner. “Arrest them. Put them in handcuffs and call Hanson to get them into the car.” Bolder nodded, and I continued. “The marked bills you put into the package should roughly match what is already in there in the sense of currency mix and how the bills are bound together. Come up and sign a receipt for this money and examine the set closely. If the drop package is sealed, you should reseal it when you are done. Hanson, I want you to monitor the tap on our perp’s phone until the operation gets the go-ahead signal, which is my responsibility.” I had told Steve what I wanted him to do beforehand, but I wanted the attendees to know his vital role. “Steve will be walking a dog by the drop house to oversee the operation. He will inform the team when the drop man has exited the house. Afterwards, he will go to the pickup man’s destination and lead deputies in, making arrests there.”
The team did not ask questions at this point, so I went on. “Dane and Norman, you should regroup and then report to Sergeant Thompson, who will have you go to another location, where a raid will later take place. Your task will be to supervise the deputies in that raid.”
“Both of us?” asked Hanson.
“Yes. It will be a big raid.” I did not want to tell the team at that time that the DEA would be involved, though Steve, of course, knew. As I spoke, I realized Collins might return home first, especially if the drop location were near his apartment, but we would know that since we had a transponder on his car.
There were more questions from the assembled crew, the principal one being why they were not being given the time and location of the operation. “Because, I don’t know it myself,” I replied. While I had stated the truth, I knew I would have the information that evening, but I wanted to keep it secret until just before the operation was initiated, scared as I was of loose tongues.
I told everybody to pick up their radio receivers, go home, and get a good rest to be prepared for the next day starting at 5:30 a.m. in the morning, when I would notify them of the drop house location and time.
CHAPTER 20
I called Drew Ryan late afternoon that Wednesday to give him a synopsis of our plan. He informed me Niles Svenson had prepared all necessary forms to get search and arrest warrants from a federal judge. The warrants would cover the Collins brothers, Swift, Arzeta, Bert Swanson, their offices, their homes and all of Swift’s businesses.
“Are you ready for the operation tomorrow?” he asked.
“I think I’ve covered all the bases except yours,” I replied. “I understand Mr. Jackson will be leading the arrest at Swift’s office?”
“That is correct,” he said ruefully. “I will be there also and will have two other DEA agents with me, but we will need help from sheriff deputies as well as an evidence team with vans to haul off files and equipment.”
“I am having Steve take care of that,” I told him. “Drew, you and Jackson should go to our leased office, which our deputy Emily Rose will open up for you within half an hour after Collins has left to get the money package. You can call in your team from there.”
Drew thanked me, and I continued. “Are you able to be in touch with our communications center, where I will be supervising the operation?”
“Yes. Jackson set it up with your communications supervisor.” He paused and then asked, “You will know this evening where the drop house is, and I understand you or Steve will check it out. If there is a problem, are you going to be able to call off the operation tonight? You don’t want to order a stand-down tomorrow morning.”
I hadn’t thought of this possibility. “I take it you can contact your agents tonight if that were to occur?”
“Yes. And you?”
“My direct participants have radio transmitter-receivers, and I can let them know…but thanks for pointing it out to me.”
I immediately got hold of Thompson to tell him of Ryan’s concern.
“If that happens, my raiding crew can be called off tomorrow morning by regular communication channels since they won’t be starting until after eight thirty,” he responded. “You just take care of your participants.”
It had been a busy day. Steve and I went out for dinner together, and then we returned to the communications center and stood by Hanson as he monitored Andy Collins’s phone. The warrant for the arrest of Joe Bailey had already been issued. Law
enforcement agencies across the country had been notified, but there had been no sight of him. He would be a key in the prosecution for both money laundering and murder.
Hanson got the phone call we were waiting for at ten o’clock that Wednesday evening. I looked up the corresponding listing number on the San Diego MLS. It was a mobile home in the Madrid Manor mobile home park in San Marcos. I cursed. Mobile home park dwellers are very communal. They would know immediately that Steve walking the dog was not one of their own. That would also be true of the detectives walking or jogging. There was no parking on the main street outside the park, and street parking in the park was nominally prohibited. Stationing our crew to be unnoticeable would be impossible.
I phoned Thompson and Drew Ryan and told them the operation was off for the next day and why. I spent an hour calling my team, including Emily Rose, and telling them of the cancellation. I called Steve and asked him to get a camera-equipped car and set it up to watch the drop-off and pickup the next morning.
“I’ll try,” he said. “If I can’t get one, I’ll go there and make the observations myself.” Anticipating my concern, he added, “I’ll position my car where it can’t be seen from cars entering the mobile home park.”
I was extremely tired when I went to bed just after midnight. It was the first example of how things can go wrong. It made me think of Dwight Eisenhower having to call off the planned first day of the Normandy invasion of World War II due to bad weather. We had the same problem. Would our plan leak to the enemy by its postponement?
Steve called me midmorning the next day, a Thursday. “I was able to pull a camera-car and park it near the mobile home park entrance. I’ve looked at the recording. The good news is that Geraldo Perana in his Mercury is still the drop guy. The bad news is the time interval between Perana’s leaving and Collins’s arrival was only fourteen minutes.” He let me digest this information before adding, “My neighbor has let me keep the dog until the operation is over. He thought it better for the dog to get used to me…or me to get used to the dog. The problem is the dog has peed in my car and on my living room carpet, and Austin has fallen in love with it. I’ll have to buy a replacement dog for my neighbor or my son.” We laughed together.