THE HAPPY HAT

by Peter Glassman

  The pause brought Bizetes shouting into the phone again, “But…what…you motherfucker?”

  “Sorry. My mouth was dry. I had to sip some water.” Mindel wiped his sweaty brow. “It appears Perkins is also doing some heroin plaster processing on his own. If Linsky’s urine is heroin clean it means Perkins urine is heroin clean if he’s assisting with Linsky’s processing technique. However, Perkins on his own is sloppy and therefore his domicile was positive for both heroin and gypsum. Perkins dirty urine was not from Linsky’s operation but from his own. They’re both running separate heroin cast diversions on us.”

  “Dead. They’re both dead men.” Bizetes knew what he had to do. “Don’t leak this information out to anyone. I have to run financial checks and find out how they’re selling the heroin.”

  ‡

  Skagan had no alternative but to meet with Kaplan in the hospital. This was hospital business and both Kaplan and she were the main administrators of the Vietnam plaster cast disposal. Their meeting would in no way be construed as Officer-Enlisted fraternization. “Get someone to cover for you and come to my office. I‘ll be there in thirty minutes.”

  The other ward corpsmen were at lunch. Only LT Sparrow was at the Nurses Station.

  “LT Sparrow, LCDR Skagan wants me stat to go over an irregularity with the Vietnam plaster. The other corpsmen will be back in half-an-hour.” Kaplan’s request was delivered with urgency and as an order from Skagan. Sparrow went white.

  “Trouble with the casts? What kind of trouble? I have to know. I’m charge nurse on G-1.” She clutched his forearm.

  “I won’t know until I see her. If you want you can go in my place but she insisted I go there immediately.” Kaplan removed her hand.

  “Me? Meet alone with Skagan. Are you nuts? Go. Go. But come back as soon as you can and tell me what’s going on. I have to know what you know. I’m the nurse after all.”

  Kaplan’s forearm was moist from Sparrow’s sweaty palm. What does she have to be so fearful for? Skagan isn’t really a wicked witch. Kaplan took the elevator to the fifth floor of the central main hospital building and knocked on Skagan’s office door.

  “Enter.”

  The room was small, windowless and furnished with a Navy gray metal desk, high-back gray desk chair plus two Navy gray armless chairs in front of her desk.

  “Sit down Ike and tell me what’s going on.”

  Kaplan had been thinking rapidly about how to broach the problem. “Phil, some plaster from the air-evacs isn’t reaching G-1.”

  “What do you mean? Only the plaster from Viet Nam goes to biological waste disposal.”

  “I spot checked a few ortho air-evac returnees and some did come from Nam whose casts didn’t make it to G-1.” Kaplan gave her the name of a patient from two months ago.

  She opened a file drawer on her desk. “I keep meticulous records. What’s the patient’s name again?”

  “Marine Lance Corporal Ross Sliden. He arrived on a February thirteenth air evac. His medical record indicates his cast was applied in Vietnam.” Kaplan watched the intensity of purpose on her face and he had a flashback to her bedroom when she was mellow with affection and passion. Why am I thinking like this?

  “Ross Sliden. Ross Sliden. I have him on the admissions list for February 13, 1973.” She looked from an admission summary to the air-evac list. Her face paled. “There’s something wrong. His date of plaster application is different on the air-evac triage list than in his medical chart. The triage roster says it was applied in the Philippines not in Vietnam.”

  Kaplan stared as her color returned. “That’s unusual. It never happens.”

  “Unless someone changes it. But why would someone do that. Those Vietnam casts are full of pseudomonas bugs. And who would be able to do it.”

  “Who was the JMOOD that day? He’s the only one who has access to the triage air-evac list.” Kaplan moved closer to her desk.

  “LT Paul Norman.” Skagan put her hand to her mouth.

  “Dr. Norman? I don’t believe it. He would have no purpose.” Kaplan saw a new look as she took her hand away from her mouth. “What?”

  “Dr. Norman didn’t make the change. The G-3 corpsman did.”

  Kaplan stood up. “Corpsman Amstel Perkins? How do you know?”

  “He told me one day how he accessed the list for triage so Dr. Norman wouldn’t have to do it. It allowed Norman to make rounds on his JMOOD days and saved him time. I was going to check this out with Norman but never got around to it.”

  Kaplan went around to the back of her chair. “Phil, we have to make sure about this.”

  “But why would anyone do such a thing. Who would want a dirty cast contaminated with a South East Asia deadly organism?”

  “Phil, you have to first verify that Perkins was and maybe is still doing this. Can you approach Norman about the triage list responsibility with Perkins?”

  “I could go right to Perkins. Perkins was the one who told me he was doing this advance triage.” She reached up and touched one of his hands on her shoulder.

  “I think proper protocol would be for you as an officer to talk to Norman. Then as Senior Corpsman in charge of the cast disposal I can approach Perkins.” Kaplan looked down at this petite feisty woman who he had developed feelings for. If Perkins is part of the cartel Skagan could be vulnerable for cartel action if she messed with him.

  “Okay. Ike can you check on how many other changes were made like this.” She moved her chair back and stood up facing him. “I’ve fallen down on my job. How could this happen?”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll correct the problem, believe me.” He embraced her and they kissed.

  Chapter 28

  Agent Adam Stokely

  Stokely picked up the phone and hit the encryption button. “Go ahead Kaplan. The phone is secure.”

  Kaplan described his suspicion about Perkins who was triaging the air-evac list well ahead of its physical arrival.

  “You think Dr. Norman is involved?”

  “I doubt it. This Corpsman Perkins must be part of the internal cast diversion for the cartel. He seems to be living beyond his Navy salary. Check on his bank account and off-hospital relationships.”

  “Do you have any more leads within Queens Naval? We’re going to make a move at the end of the month not only at your place but all across the country. The war is over and Washington wants this heroin thing nailed shut and archived ‘secret’. We have a coordination plan to grab the civilian disposal groups at all military hospitals. We’ve identified the top heroin kingpins for this whole operation.”

  “When? I have one other suspicious corpsman and he’s linked to a patient. However, they’re both from the Dirty Surgery units. Up to now I’ve been looking for orthopedic personnel and patients.”

  “Follow your instincts and training. There has to be a doctor or a nurse in this mix. How did you hit on the Dirty Surgery possibles?”

  “One of the patients from a colostomy ward delivers mail throughout the main hospital. He’s been lingering longer here on G-1 and the guy’s from F-1. When I was following up on Perkins I caught this F-1 patient–his name is Sebastian Remo–spying on Perkins. At first I couldn’t figure out what was going on until I zeroed in on Perkins stealing Nam casts for his personal skimming. This Remo must be a cartel man and an insider to keep the Navy operatives under observation.” Kaplan cleared his throat. “What’s going to be my part in the end of the month operation?”

  “Fortunately the combined military services did what your Navy people did. They centralized one ward for Vietnam cast collection and disposition for civilian pick-up and disposal. That’s what gave the Bureau the idea of a simultaneous sting. We’ve been following the civilian delivery trucks and know their drop-off points. We’ll have agents and local police grabbing them on the same day because the cartel chemists will be waiting for the deliveries.”

  “Two-weeks doesn’t give me much time to find out the nurse or doctor who’s the pivotal Nava
l Officer cartel administrator.” Kaplan felt butterflies in his stomach as Skagan’s image flashed in his brain.

  “Give it your best shot. We’re running bank account checks on all doctors and nurses. Any spikes in deposits will raise red flags. The trouble with the doctors is some of them moonlight in civilian practice and have fat incomes. We’re also checking tax returns for this year and last but if our person is a cartel individual he or she may be hiding the funds via a laundering scheme.” Stokely changed the subject. “Who’s the other corpsman you suspect? We’ll need the name.”

  “Achilles Spinelli. He’s a senior corpsman from the Dirty Surgery wards. He’s been thick with this Sebastian Remo who’s also on his assigned ward–F-1.” Kaplan felt more under control now. He sensed the pieces of the cartel puzzle finally coming together. “So what’s my role on D-Day for the civilian pick-up?”

  “Think back to your initial briefing on hospital containment and isolation strategy. It’s going to be an FBI and DEA textbook operation. Timing is critical.” Stokely looked at his watch.

  “Well I know the day and date because cast specimen collection is fixed. Give me the time.” Kaplan didn’t need to write anything down. His adrenalin was up. Finalization of his two years of undercover for the heroin smuggling infiltration was nearing its end. And what about Philomena Skagan? Will that end too?

  ‡

  “Remo, today’s payday for our people. Make sure the envelopes are hand delivered.” Acky Spinelli handed Remo the envelopes which had initials and numbers as the only identifier address.

  “You don’t have to give me orders like that. I’m over you in our organization.” Remo glared at Spinelli.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just this Perkins thing bothers me. I mean if he’s skimming he could also be ready to run to the DEA or FBI if his ass is threatened.”

  “Don’t worry about that. Perkins will be managed and plucked from this world soon.” Remo took the envelopes. “I have to get moving with my mail route. By the way, they have that big Boomer guy scheduled for cast removal.”

  “I hope Skagan gets every piece of his cast accounted for and down to G-1 before Perkins cannibalizes any of it.” Spinelli waved to the departing Remo.

  Remo remembered his orders from Bizetes. “Do nothing until you hear from us. We have to track how Perkins is marketing his heroin before we make an example of him.” He also thought of his pending colostomy closure. It was scheduled in three days. He was to start his bowel prep tomorrow. Someone else would get his mail delivery and it wouldn’t be any cartel crony until a month from now according to Bizetes. Both his surgery and Boomer Stiles cast removal under anesthesia were scheduled for the same day. Bizetes had reassured him. “You’ve done well and we’ll take it all from here Remo. Once you’re out of the Army and into the VA system we have a nice position for you in Brooklyn.”

  So I should relax. Just let it happen. No one knows of my ties to the heroin smuggling ring. Remo entered G-1 with his mail bag and went to the Nurses Station.

  “Hey Remo, I see you’re finally on the OR schedule to get your colostomy closed.” Kaplan watched as Remo deposited several envelopes addressed to G-1.

  “How’d you find out?” Remo looked around the ward.

  “We have Boomer Stiles scheduled for cast removal in the OR the same day as your surgery. You’re both on the end of the OR day’s procedures. The head of the OR considers both of you as contaminated soldiers.” Kaplan looked through the pile of mail. “Nothing for me today–as usual.”

  Kaplan went to the cast room as Remo picked up his mail bag. As soon as Kaplan closed the cast room door, Remo quickly plucked one envelope from his bag and went to one of the G-1 patient’s bed where the nurse was checking a post-op dressing.

  “I won’t be seeing you anymore ma’am. After my surgery I’ll be going to the VA and then home. I just want to say thank you for helping to get me the mail route. Being active helped my recovery.” Remo extended his hand.

  LT Dina Sparrow smiled and shook his hand. “Yes. Sometimes being bedbound is the worst thing for healing.”

  Remo left G-1 passing Kaplan who was going back into the Nurses Station. Kaplan picked up the phone and watched as Sparrow continued to tend to a post-op marine.

  “Agent Stokely, I think I have the Queen’s Naval Officer cartel medical staff. It’s a nurse.”

  “That was quick. How did you pick her out so fast?” Stokely had his notepad ready.

  “I’ve been watching the patient mailman closely–the suspect from F-1. He just handed her an envelope which she pocketed discretely.”

  Chapter 29

  Abraham Linsky

  “Puerto Rico? Twice a month?” Bizetes looked at Mindel with the phone pressed to his right ear. “That costs money but we pay him pretty well. He also probably has a huge cash stash to draw from. Where does he go in PR? Does he have a place down there?”

  Mindel stopped his paperwork and held his eye contact with Bizetes. The plan for Perkins and Linsky was to get the details of their life outside of the Brooklyn heroin processing warehouse.

  “Okay. I think I’ll take a vacation in Puerto Rico at the same place. And don’t worry, Linsky will cooperate himself into our hands totally.” Bizetes hung up and sat across from Mindel’s desk.

  “I only heard one side of the call. Linsky’s escape route is PR?” Mindel tapped his pen on his desk blotter.

  “Not exactly his escape route. I would call it his main bank and heroin dealer contact site. He’s heading back to PR this weekend and so am I.” Bizetes smiled.

  “What about Amstel Perkins?”

  “Perkins was easier. The guy is sloppy. He has a local dealer and he’s cooking the plaster-heroin himself. The jerk is actually using a dealer who works for us. Can you believe it? Perkins must think we’re totally stupid.”

  Mindel leaned forward. “What do I say when he shows up Saturday for his paycheck?”

  “Nothing. Give him his envelope. We won’t have any casts until the end of the month–the last weekend of the month. I understand we have a total body cast worth almost half-a mil with the rest of the lot.” Bizetes stood up. “We’ll process Perkins next weekend after I tend to Linsky at his lush condo in PR.”

  ‡

  Linsky packed his two suitcases with the pure heroin secreted in the false bottoms. Customs going out of New York’s JFK Airport and going into Puerto Rico was lax about drugs. On the other hand, leaving PR was a more vigilant matter for Puerto Rican Customs. His luggage, like almost everyone else’s, was picked apart looking for drugs destined for New York, Chicago, Miami or other major US city. The same was true with entry into JFK Customs. The New York Customs Agents were looking for import of heroin not export. It had been a dream come true for Linsky.

  His 737 landed in San Juan and he welcomed the warm climate and late Saturday sun from the still mostly chilly March New York weather. Linsky paid no notice to the taxi following his rental car to his resort condominium at the snug San Juan resort ocean inlet.

  ‡

  Bizetes’ plane landed four hours after Linsky’s. He was met by the same cab driver who had been following Linsky the past few weeks.

  “Did he go to the same condo Jaeko?” Bizetes donned his Polaroid sunglasses as he left the air conditioned airport and emerged into the bright PR sun.

  “Yes Mr. Bizetes. His routine is so far the same. He usually goes to the same restaurants and on Monday goes to the bank for deposit from his business on Sunday.” The cabby took Bizetes’ bags, put them in the trunk and sat behind the wheel. He looked in the rearview mirror at his passenger.

  “I’m staying in the Hotel Dominguez across the street. We’ll meet with Mr. Linsky after he sells his heroin and has his money. What does he do once he finishes his business on Sunday?”

  “Senior Linsky goes back to his condo for about an hour and then goes to a bar in the next block across from your hotel Mr. Bizetes.” The traffic was moving in a disorganized fashion with dri
vers changing lanes to no particular purpose.

  “Good. Here’s our plan for Sunday.” Bizetes leaned forward. “Keep your eyes on the road.”

  ‡

  Linsky put the kilo bags of heroin in a closet safe in his condo’s only bedroom. He went to the balcony and looked at the light-sanded beach below. Maybe I’ll retire down here. The war is over but the patients will still be coming back for about a year. I’ll have a few million in the bank. I can live here in semi-retirement–maybe buy a beach bar further back in the suburbs. Linsky would take no more risks and get out of the drug business once he disappeared from Brooklyn. His only loose end would be Perkins. Maybe he could arrange an accident with Perkins–maybe a drug overdose or a strychnine dose by a dealer. He could arrange that easily. He’d seen it done by some of Bizetes’ dealers to eliminate loose cannon addicts.

  He looked out at the ocean from his open balcony. A cruise ship was slowly being assisted into the inner harbor and he thought he might take one of those cruises to another island one day. Linsky was totally oblivious to the man with the binoculars looking at him from a balcony on the Hotel Dominguez two stories above Linsky’s condo across the street. The Dominguez was on a curve actually sharing the same beach on the arcuate inner harbor.

  ‡

  Perkins was trying to think of how to get some part of Boomer Stiles’ cast for his own. The main problem was getting into the OR. That could never happen. And then there was that capo nurse Skagan and the OR Commandant Captain Darmin. She would make sure every gram of that dirty cast was accounted for and out of her precious germ-free domain. No, the OR was impossible. He did know the OR’s routine for cutting up big hip spica casts or long arm-shoulder and leg-ankle casts. They removed them in sections immediately bagging and labeling each segment. There has to be a way to get a part of Boomer’s cast.