by Sims, R.
Phillip looked at her. “Placing an ad online for some look-alikes sounds more likely, but let’s hear your theory.”
She said, “Placing an ad isn’t likely to produce three or more people who can be counted on to take part in a conspiracy to commit ID fraud. You and I have seen either pictures and even videos of the look-alikes as they conducted those large transactions in Dexter’s name. These guys resemble Dexter like, say, a close cousin, but none of them could get the part for a twin if it were a movie.”
“Interesting,” he said. “None of them had to look exactly like Dexter, or even close, as long as they looked like the photos on their fake IDs,” Phillip said.
“Dexter is using people that he knows.”
“Or people that someone close to him knows.”
“Right,” Laura said. “This morning I learned that Reginald Macon, the McDonald’s manager and owner in Philadelphia, attended the same university as Dexter, though it doesn’t appear that they shared any of the same classes. I’m not sure they even know each other, but it looks like more than a coincidence.”
The light changed and Phillip resumed driving. “That would support your theory of Dexter using people he knows, but if you’re correct it would be nearly impossible to discover the real identities of the look-alikes.”
Laura looked at him and smiled weakly. “Terry Adams, Larry Grover, and Chris Carson.”
Phillip was astounded. The rookie was apparently working harder than he was. “Who are they?” He had to hear it from Laura.
“Adams lives in California and most likely made the vehicle purchase at the Hyundai dealership. Grover lives in North Carolina, and I believe he opened the bank account with $50,000. Carson lives…”
Phillip cut in and said, “in Alabama and could be the one who put the quarter million down on the new home.”
“Exactly. Last night I contacted Dexter’s old girlfriend, Delores Smith, and she knew all of his old friends.”
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Phillip said, “And once she mentioned some of the places they were now living, you knew you were on the right track.”
“Of course. Delores and Dexter had a bad relationship. She married twice and had two children after he went to prison. I wanted to talk to her in person, or send someone over to interview her, but I thought the phone call would quickly produce some information that would be useful at this morning’s hearing,” Laura said.
“I’m sure you’ve sent someone to interview her more formally.”
“I have, same email.”
“I have to admit that you’re doing an excellent job.”
“Thanks,” she said. “So, how do we proceed with Adams, Grover, and Carson?”
“We find out as much as we can about them and then we interview them.”
***
The media was both outside and inside the Los Angeles District Courthouse. The reporters were there to see the star, Dexter Parker. He stood at a table with Dana as the judge entered the courtroom.
Dexter wore nondescript blue canvas sneakers with a white rubber bottom, blue pants, and a blue top that promoted the L.A. County Jail on the back. His hands were cuffed, his ankles shackled, and a waist chain restricted some of his arms’ movement.
Eric Adkins was standing at an adjacent table with a federal public defender. Eric, too, was a new resident of the L.A. County Jail. He kept cutting his eyes over at Dexter, wondering why the black son of a bitch hadn’t looked at him yet.
It was a packed courtroom, but there was no support there for either of the two defendants. This was, after all, only an arraignment hearing.
“Please be seated,” said the magistrate judge as he arrived at the bench.
Laura and Phillip, along with two other FBI agents, sat near a table at which two government attorneys took a seat.
“Good morning to all. I’m Judge Franklin Gates, and I’ll be presiding over all pretrial matters in the case of United States versus Dexter Parker and Eric Adkins.”
The judge, at age forty-eight, was a balding white man with a full beard. He was short, damn near obese, and had a deep voice that was slightly raspy.
The Honorable Judge Gates said, “You folks in the media are expected to know and comply with Local Court Rules 17.3 through 19.6. Where specified, these rules apply both in court and out of court. Violators will be quickly escorted from this courtroom. Any questions from the media?”
Silence. They’d all been given a copy of the pertinent local rules; to ask a question now would either suggest that the journalist could not read or could not comprehend.
“Good. This hearing is an arraignment for Case Number 12-6319-LG, United States versus Dexter Parker and Eric Adkins. We’ll also take up the matter of bail concerning Defendant Parker. Defendant Adkins is here on a writ from the state of Pennsylvania; because of his custody classification, bail consideration would be moot.”
Laura’s eyes cut toward Dexter then quickly back to the judge.
“At this time, I’ll ask counsel of record to give a brief introduction, beginning with the attorneys for the government.”
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The prosecutor and his assistant stood, “Your Honor, Wesley Henderson as counsel for the government.” He was a tall, good-looking white man who would turn fifty-one in May. With his full head of hair and gray streaks beginning at his temples, he looked to be in his early forties.
The assistant prosecutor said, “Your Honor, Isaac Crowe as co-counsel for the government.”
Dana stood and said, “Dana Searing, Your Honor. At present I am counsel for Defendant Parker, but I may act as co-counsel before trial starts.”
Eric’s lawyer stood and said, “John London, Your Honor, as counsel for Defendant Adkins.”
“Very good,” the judge said, then motioned with his hand for the lawyers to sit. “Mr. Henderson, does the government oppose bail with respect to Defendant Parker?”
The prosecutor stood again. “No, Your Honor. However, the government requests that bail be set at four million.” It was a strategy. Opposing bail would be silly in this public arena; he wanted everyone to know what Dexter could now afford. Besides, hadn’t Bernie Madoff been granted bail years ago despite his $50 billion Ponzi scheme?
The judge looked at Dana.
The prosecutor had more to say. “Your Honor, the government also asks that the defendant surrender all passports and that he be placed on home confinement.”
“Mrs. Searing, how do you respond?”
Dana stood and said, “Your Honor, my client respectfully asks the court to set a reasonable bail that is within the parameters of the Eighth Amendment. I object to home confinement on the grounds that my client…”
“I have the parties’ position on bail; I’ll hear arguments and support after a few other important matters are squared away,” the judge said. “I’ll rule on the issue of bail before this hearing is over.”
Over the next thirty-two minutes, the judge made sure each defendant had a copy of the indictment then read the substance of each charge in open court. Eric was facing fourteen counts; Dexter, twenty-three.
Some of Dexter’s charges included racketeering and the laundering of monetary instruments; conspiracy to commit racketeering and money laundering with a person whose alias is known to the grand jury as Geneva Lansing; seven counts of wire fraud in connection with the Herbyte commercial and the transferring of money over a wire; and bank fraud.
Dexter was also charged with identity fraud for the purpose of effecting bank fraud and telemarketing fraud; conspiracy to commit identity fraud with a woman whose alias is known to the grand jury as Geneva Lansing; ID fraud in connection with the use of a passport; and conspiracy to commit false personation of an employee of the United States government with a person whose alias is known to the grand jury as Angelique Brooks.
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It was nearly 6:00 PM when Dexter Parker left the county jail with a bail bondsman named Barry Fitzgerald, a middle-aged blac
k man who was taller and heavier than Dexter. Barry was well-dressed but short on good looks — and he knew it —but he could care less. He was more interested in making enough money to live comfortably.
In the parking lot, he and Dexter entered a Chrysler 300 E. From the driver’s seat, Barry leaned over, opened the glove box, retrieved a sleek black handgun, and slipped it in the holster inside his sport coat.
Dexter was wearing the same clothes he’d had on during his TV interview with William Oxcart. He adjusted the front passenger’s seat for more leg room then said, “I don’t know anyone named Scott Ames. Why would he pay a $3 million bail for me?”
“You’ll have your chance to ask him when we reach Burbank. From what I understand, I think he wants to show his appreciation for the fact that you’ve brought his long-time rival to the edge of financial ruin.”
“Then he obviously doesn’t know that I pled not guilty to all charges this morning.”
Barry did not respond. He fastened his seatbelt, started the engine, and backed out of the parking space. His large, clay-looking hands gripped the steering wheel as though it was a toy. He began cruising away from the jail.
“I was expecting someone else to bail me out today.”
Barry said, “I met her at the courthouse shortly before three. She was with another bondsman. By the time they arrived, I was already ten minutes into the process.”
Dexter checked the side mirror and was watching for tails. “Can I use your phone?”
“I don’t have one. Listen, Mr. Parker, we’re going to switch cars in about fifteen minutes. Patricia’s going to take you to Burbank. I’m sure she’ll have a phone for you to use.”
This time Dexter did not respond. He was working something out in his head.
A minute later, the cell phone inside Barry’s coat pocket rang. He didn’t answer it, and didn’t even look Dexter’s way. After a full twelve minutes had passed, Dexter glanced at the side mirror again and was confident that they weren’t being followed.
Barry pulled into the parking lot of his company, Out On Bail, and drove around back. He parked a couple of spaces away from a black SUV.
Inside, Patricia Teague sat at Barry’s desk while speaking with Peter Boone on the office phone. When she heard the vehicle outside, she leaned back and looked out the window. “They’re here now,” she said to Peter after seeing two figures in the Chrysler.
“Good,” Peter said. “Get him in cuffs and bring him to my place.”
She turned back toward the desk and leaned forward again. “When this is over, I’ll be looking at a few years for obstruction of justice and impersonating a federal agent. Should I get off the radar and keep using phonies, or plea it down to two years and live happily ever after?”
Outside in the back parking lot, Dexter watched as Barry slipped the gear into Park. Without warning, he rushed his left elbow to the giant’s right temple. Twice. Extremely fast and hard. A third time for good measure.
TKO.
He slipped his hand inside the man’s sport coat and retrieved the handgun. Barry’s head was leaning against the driver’s window, and he looked as if he would tilt forward at the slightest touch.
Dexter quietly got out of the car and hurried around to the driver’s side. He opened the rear passenger’s door first then opened the driver’s door. The giant fell into Dexter’s arms, and Dexter dragged him out of the car.
It took another thirty seconds for Dexter to muscle the big man into the backseat area. He calmly forced the door shut, cramping Barry’s legs, then threw himself in the driver’s seat.
Dexter leaned over and softly closed the front passenger’s door. He threw the car in Reverse, backed out of the parking space, then slowly drove away as if he had never heard of assault, carjacking, or kidnapping.
CHAPTER 81
Dexter’s new residence was a nice 2-bedroom house in a quiet neighborhood of Palmdale, California. The place was fully furnished and down to a new desktop computer in the main bedroom. Because it was leased in Danielle’s name, nobody would find or disturb him anytime soon.
Dexter stood near a wall phone in his kitchen, staring at Barry.
The large bail bondsman was lying on the kitchen floor, facedown, his hands now cuffed behind his back, unconscious. For the second time.
Before dragging him out of the car, Dexter had discovered a set of handcuffs, a cell phone, and a wallet on the man. When Barry had stirred, as if coming to, Dexter had crashed another elbow to his head. Then another.
Dexter picked up the kitchen phone, called Que, and sat at the small kitchen table.
“Que Films, Marquise speaking.”
“When can you have that package waiting for me?” Dexter said. “I just made bail.”
“Is tonight too soon? Will you be in the Burg?”
“No. I’m still in Cali. How about tomorrow evening?”
Que said, “Just call me and give me the go-ahead.”
“I will. Listen, my problems are growing and are springing up unexpectedly. I may need for you to move here sooner than we planned.”
“No problem. Did the judge set any release restrictions?”
“The usual — relinquish passports, don’t leave the country, don’t commit any crimes…”
Que said, “What was your bail set at?”
“The government suggested $4 million, but the judge set it at $3 million. The government argued that I should be confined at home with an ankle monitor, but the judge denied that.”
“Sounds like you have a fair judge,” Que said.
“Not really. I believe the judge and the prosecutor had already conspired to release me under those exact conditions. They want to know if I’m foolish enough to have someone bail me out with my own money. What’s more, an ankle monitor would prevent me from leading them to the money.”
“Nah, that doesn’t make sense.”
“Of course it does. My brother has told them about everyone with whom I associate, except you. Rather than keeping me under surveillance, they would best monitor my friends and associates. Their main objective isn’t to send me to prison again; they want to recover the money.”
Que said, “Madoff stole fifty billion. Why did they put him on house arrest after he made bail?”
“Madoff swindled investors over a 10-year period, which made it more difficult to recover the money. Plus, he never really stole $50 billion; he simply shuffled that amount of money through his hands and the hands of other investors.” Dexter paused. He thought he’d heard Barry snore slightly. “Que, I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Yep.”
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Dexter ended the call with Que then made another to Professor Mackie, and another to Dana, and another to Danielle. Finally, he made a call to Janet at her new place in Santa Clarita. It was another 2-bedroom house leased by Danielle.
Janet said, “So, how long have you been out?”
“Less than an hour, and right now I’m only a few minutes away from you. Should I stop by?”
“Please don’t. It will be weeks before I’m ready to see you.”
He glanced at Barry. “If my hands weren’t full, I’d come over tonight. I don’t want you to be insecure about your mouth. This may sound strange, but what you’ve been through makes me care about you even more.”
Barry stirred again.
“I don’t feel sexy anymore,” she said as she started to cry.
“I’ll help you feel that way again, and I won’t wait for weeks.” He kicked Barry’s leg and watched him stir again. The man was awake now. Dexter said to Janet, “Did you see the dentist today to have him access your dental records? He could get started on your partials and have them ready without even seeing you again.”
“Yes, I saw him earlier. How much money did you pay him? I ask that because he treats me like a priority. I don’t even have to set an appointment as long as I give him an hour’s notice before I show up.”
“And if you need to see him
after-hours, he’ll be there for you. He received a hundred thousand from a third-party connection of mine.” He was trading stares with Barry. “Hey, call 60/40 and have him email some info to me about a California bail bondsman named Barry Fitzgerald. Do this right now if you can.”
“Okay. Call me back.”
“I will.”
Janet said, “I love you.”
Dexter hadn’t expected those words from her, but he felt compelled to say, “I love you, too.” He hung the phone up before she could say good-bye.
The bondsman said, “Why am I.in handcuffs” He had rolled over onto his side. “You got anything for a headache?”
“Medicine is overrated. Do you know who I am?”
“The guy I just bailed out of jail, and this is the thanks…”
“That’s good,” Dexter said. “When I was in prison, I knocked a guy out twice in about twenty minutes. He had a concussion and lost his memory for two days as a result.”
“What’s your point?”
Dexter laughed. “You have a hard-ass head.”
“Are you saying you knocked me out? I don’t believe that. Take these cuffs off and do it again.”
“You’ve seen too many badly written movies. If you don’t tell me what I need to know, you may end up in the afterlife with those fucking cuffs on. Now, I want to know who sent you to bail me out, and don’t give me that Scot Ames story.”
“Well, that’s all I have. He hired me to get you out of jail and to get you into Patricia’s custody.”
“Who is Patricia?”
“Patricia Teague. She’s a bounty hunter who works for the elite.”
Dexter recalled his investigator giving him information about the Teague woman. He knew that she was likely working for real estate mogul Peter Boone. “What are you being paid?”
“Thirty thousand. It was supposed to be easy money.” He threw his head back and let it rest on the floor. while he stared at the ceiling.