Special Agent

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Special Agent Page 9

by Dan Arnold


  “I’m aware of that, Tony.”

  “Yeah, but what you are not aware of is the fact he no longer works for the Tyler PD. He’s working as a PI, period. That’s his only job.”

  “How’s that possible, did you fire him?”

  “No, he had already been fired. He was fired last week, after an Internal Affairs investigation discovered he had been moonlighting on Tyler PD time. I-A had been investigating him for more than a year. There were some additional abnormalities related to him using his police badge to obtain information for his private business and dirty money making its way into his pockets. They tell me he had been providing muscle and running interference for some prostitutes, while in uniform. The Union didn’t even try to defend him. They struck a deal with the department. If the department didn’t bring charges against him, he would go away quietly. He turned in his badge and gun. The point is; Kirby Wilson was no longer a Tyler cop when he showed up in Arkansas.”

  “He had a badge and he flashed it when the local law stopped him for questioning.”

  “Maybe, but that’s pretty thin gravy down here. He may have impersonated a police officer in Arkansas, but it would be their problem, not ours.”

  “What are you saying?”

  Several Hispanic men had noticed me and were approaching the truck.

  “We can’t really connect him to the killers for hire. We only know he followed you to Arkansas and the killers eventually showed up there. J.W. can you prove he had any contact with them?”

  I sighed.

  “Yeah, you get my point.” Tony said.

  “Do you know where he is now?”

  “No, I just got done talking with Internal Affairs. I figured I’d better let you know.”

  “OK, Tony thanks. Is the package with you?”

  “Yes. All is well.”

  The good news was there was very little chance former Patrol Sergeant Kirby Wilson would be anywhere around Tony’s office at the Tyler police station. The bad news was we couldn’t pin anything on him that would take him out of the picture.

  “Tony, I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

  I stepped out of my truck to greet the men gathering around.

  There were five of them and they varied in age from about sixteen to about sixty. Each man was dressed for work in long sleeved shirts, ball caps and jeans. All of them had work gloves tucked in their pockets. Others were watching from a distance. It was after nine o’clock by now, which meant most of the good jobs had already been filled.

  “Buenos días. ¿Alguno de ustedes habla a inglés?”

  “Yes, I do, a little. So do I. We all do,” was the general response.

  “OK, I need men who are experienced concrete and general construction hands. Have any of you done construction work here, in East Texas?”

  Two of them indicated they had done construction work in the area.

  I addressed them.

  “Dónde hiciste el trabajo?"

  “We do some work near Lindale, Tyler, Longview, Kilgore, Whitehouse, but out in the country mostly,” one of the men said, shrugging.

  The other man nodded his agreement.

  “OK, I’m paying one hundred dollars, per man, per day. Even though we’re getting a late start, you’ll still get one hundred dollars today. I’ll also provide lunch today. I can only take you two men. Are you ready to go now?” I asked.

  They both nodded. The other men began to wander off.

  We got in my truck. The older of the two men appeared to be about forty. He sat in the passenger seat, up front beside me. The younger man appeared to be about thirty. He sat in the back seat, directly behind me.

  I don’t like to have strangers sitting directly behind me.

  As we drove away from the Mexican Market, I phoned Gary.

  “Where are you today?”

  “We’re building a big barn, a little ways outside of Troup, in Cherokee County.”

  “Congratulations again on getting the job as the crew chief.”

  “So, what can I do for you today?”

  “I’ve picked up a couple of workmen. I’ll bring them out to you, if you’ll give me directions.”

  Gary gave me directions to the worksite.

  Thirty minutes later, we pulled through an open farm gate and drove directly across the recently cut hay meadow toward the construction site. We passed hundreds of fresh square bales of Coastal Bermuda grass hay. It smelled like summer time.

  The construction site was nothing more than a pad, cleared and leveled, at the edge of the hay meadow. As the day heated up, there would be little shade from the trees some thirty yards away.

  Gary was supervising a four man crew. The men were building the forms for the barn’s concrete foundation. They were working on a grid of re-bar. Lumber, roofing shingles, siding and other materials were stacked nearby.

  The three of us got out of my pick up, as Gary approached us.

  “Gary, this is Juan Vargas and Julio Garcia. They are ready to go to work.”

  Gary looked them over and nodded.

  “OK, you men can start carrying supplies over to the others. Go over there and introduce yourselves.”

  When the men walked away, Gary spoke to me quietly.

  “I’ve been re-thinking this thing, John. I don’t think I have the authority to hire extra men.”

  “It might be a chance for you to show off a little. Show some initiative and get more work done, faster.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think it’s a good idea, my first day as a crew chief. Kevin Watkins is the Foreman and he’ll be back by here sometime later today to check on me. He’ll probably want to be here when the concrete truck gets here. He’s a jackass, and I’d better not make him mad. If he shows up, I’ll tell him some story about how you had hired these guys to work for you, but the job fell through, so you stopped by here to see if I needed anybody.”

  “Good plan, but I don’t think it’s going to be an issue. They’re coming back here now.”

  Juan and Julio were hurrying toward us.

  “¿Cuál es el problema?” I asked.

  “We cannot work here, señor. We have had troubles with this company. We have worked with these other men before. We are all worried about the boss man. He won’t like to see us here.”

  “Do you mean Kevin Watkins?”

  They both nodded.

  “Es un hombre malo. He will give us much troubles.”

  “I see… well, we can’t have that. We’ll figure out something else, don’t worry. Get back in the truck. I’ll be along in a minute.”

  I looked at Gary.

  “Problem solved.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve never seen anything like that before. Those guys are scared.”

  “Yes, they are. It should be an interesting conversation on the drive back to Tyler.”

  Gary looked thoughtful.

  “I’ll try to get some info from these other guys, as the day goes on.”

  “Do that, but you be very careful and take care of yourself. It’s going to be hot today.”

  Seventeen

  When I got back in the truck, I addressed the men.

  “I’m sorry, this was the only work I had for you today…”

  “… No es un problema, senor. We cannot work for this company.” Juan interrupted.

  I nodded in response.

  “By the time I drive you back to Tyler, the morning will be nearly gone and there will be few opportunities to find other work. I tell you what… I promised you each one hundred dollars for today. If you will tell me everything you know about the company and why you won’t work for them, I’ll still pay you the one hundred dollars.”

  Juan turned and looked back at Julio. In the rear view mirror, I saw Julio shrug.

  “Why do you want to know? If you are working for this company, you should already know.” Juan enquired.

  It was getting hot in the truck, so I started it up and got the air conditioning going.

  “I
don’t work for this company. The crew chief on this job here is a friend of mine, and he told me if I could find a couple of extra men he would appreciate it. I just picked you up to help my friend. Why won’t you work for this company?”

  “Why are you willing to pay two hundred dollars to hear about it?” Juan demanded.

  “I have already heard some bad things myself. I need to know if the stories are true. I can probably make some money if this company has bad practices. Do they?”

  Juan and Julio were both thoughtful for a moment.

  “You keep your money then. I think maybe it is not safe to talk about these things.” Julio said.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Esto es mal negocio, y no le conocemos,” Juan observed.

  “I agree Juan. It is bad business we are discussing. My name is John Tucker. I am in the business of helping people who have troubles. I know of a man who worked for this company and he was injured on the job. His friends and co-workers are afraid to tell what happened. They are afraid to tell about the bad things that happen to people who work for the bad company. I think you are both afraid, too.”

  Juan did not like hearing me say I thought he was afraid. His eyes blazed and he set his mouth in a firm line.

  Julio was younger and had less self-discipline.

  “We are not cowards, señor. If you knew what we know, you would not judge us so.”

  “So, tell me what you know, and I will be the judge of that.”

  “Why should we trust you?”

  It was a fair question.

  “Trust me because of justice. Debe hacerse justicia. When good men do not stand up for what is right, there is no justice. I intend to find out the truth about this company. When I do, I will make sure they answer to the law.”

  “Huh, the Norte Americano, white man’s law? They will not listen to us. We are not welcome in the Estados Unidos. They will send us back to Mexico.”

  “You can tell me. I won’t send you back to Mexico.”

  They were both silent for a moment.

  “Por favor, Sr. Tucker, nos llevan de aquí.” Julio entreated.

  “Why? You are safe enough here in the truck.”

  “It is the bad man. If he comes here and finds us…”

  “Do you mean Kevin Watkins?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is the second time you’ve mentioned him. Is he dangerous?”

  “Sí, él es... muy peligroso.”

  “OK, tell me more about him.”

  I put the truck in gear and started to drive away from the job site, waiving at Gary as we left. As we drove across the hay meadow, Julio opened up.

  “This man is bad. He is cruel and he hurts people. He pushes and trips us as we work. He laughs about it. One day he pushed and taunted Eduardo so much, Eduardo pulled a knife on him. Eduardo is not a man to taunt. Eduardo is stupid, but very strong and fierce, and his knife was always very sharp.”

  “What is Eduardo’s last name?”

  “Ruiz, Eduardo Ruiz. He is from Mazatlan.”

  “What happened when Eduardo pulled the knife?”

  “The bad man, he beat Eduardo, with this little whip thing he had clipped to his belt. It is small and short, no more than a foot long, but it gets long and thin. Senor Watkins knocked the knife out of Eduardo’s hand, very quickly, and then he beat him with the stick. Then he cut Eduardo with his own knife.”

  “Did he kill Eduardo?”

  “No, we did not see this. He hurt him. We saw him cut a mark into Eduardo’s chest, but Eduardo did not die.”

  “Where is Eduardo now?”

  “No one knows, señor. After the fight, Mr. Watkins drove Eduardo away. He said he was taking him home to get cleaned up, maybe see a doctor. Mr. Watkins came back to the job site, Eduardo did not. Not that day, or the next, or ever again. No one has seen him since that day.”

  “When did this happen? Cuándo sucedió esto?"

  “Fue en Noviembre".

  “Where?”

  “Somewhere over east of here.” He pointed over his shoulder.

  “Do you think Mr. Watkins killed Eduardo?”

  They both shrugged.

  “Who can say? Maybe Eduardo, he just go somewhere else.” Juan observed.

  “Have you ever met the owner of the company?”

  “No, only the bad man. He is the one who hires the men and he is the one who torments the men.”

  “Did you get a paycheck from the company?”

  “No, always cash money.”

  “Why would anyone want to work for that company?”

  They both shrugged again.

  “We need money. There are many others who want the work. When the white man got hurt on the job, Mr. Watkins tell us to shut up and talk to no one about what happened. He say he know where we live, if we talk to anyone, he will find us and make us to pay, Julio and I decide we won’t ever go near this bad man again.”

  “Were you there on the day the bricks fell on the white man?”

  Juan and Julio looked at each other.

  “Si’, but we did not see it happen.”

  “The reason I ask is because we are going to make the company pay for what happened to that man, and we can make them pay for what they have done to you.”

  “Pay us what? What have they done to us? Nothing, we quit because we don’t want to work there no more.”

  “Would you testify to what you know about the company and about how Mr. Watkins treats the men?”

  They looked confused, so I repeated the question in Spanish.

  “Se dan testimonio de lo que sabes sobre la empresa y sobre cómo el Sr. Watkins trata a los hombres?"

  They looked at each other and then back at me.

  “We are not Americanos. We will not talk in the gringo court. They would send us back to Mexico.”

  We drove along in silence for a little while.

  “I will find a way we can get your testimony and not put you in danger. In the meantime, you must stay away from those people. You have earned your money today.”

  I gave each of them five, twenty dollar bills.

  We drove the rest of the way back into Tyler, in silence.

  After I dropped the men off at the Mexican Market, I phoned Gary and warned him about Watkins and his ASP.

  “What is an ASP?” Gary asked.

  “It’s one of those telescoping batons some law enforcement types carry. Evidently Watkins is very good with one. You watch him closely. He may not show his meaner side to you on the first day, but he almost certainly will, at some point. Juan and Julio tell me he’s very cruel, and he may even have murdered a man named Eduardo Ruiz.”

  “What has it got to do with me?”

  “Eduardo Ruiz worked for your outfit. He got crosswise with Watkins on the job one day, and took the worst of it from Watkins. Ruiz got hurt and Watkins put him in his truck and drove away. Ruiz hasn’t been seen since.”

  “Oh, that’s just great! Do I get to collect hazardous duty pay?”

  “If you feel like you need to pull out, I’ll understand.”

  “Naw, remember, I’m a fireman. We run into burning buildings for a living.”

  “Yeah, well watch out for burning debris. You don’t have any other firemen with you in this deal.”

  Eighteen

  The next call I made was to Tony.

  “Tony, could you look into whether or not there have been any unidentified bodies found in the general area, between now and October of last year?”

  “Well, J.W., you know on those rare occasions, whenever someone finds a body, it tends to be big news.”

  “Right, I know, but if no other information becomes available, the story just kind of goes away. I think I remember something from a few months ago, maybe over in Henderson County, but I’m not sure.”

  “OK. I’ll look into it and call you back.”

  Ten minutes later, my phone rang. I saw the call was from Tony.

  “You know, J.
W. you continue to surprise me. Yes, there was a body found in January of this year, on an old abandoned oil well site, over in Rusk County, near the town of Henderson. That’s why you thought it was in Henderson County. A guy riding an ATV found it.”

  “Oh, OK. Was the dead person a Hispanic male?”

  I could hear Tony hesitate. I knew he was struggling to compose his answer.

  “No one knew, at the time. The Rusk County Sheriff’s department had to wait for the forensics people in Dallas to report back. Nothing was reported to the public. The remains were those of a male, of Hispanic origin. But of course, I expect you already knew that.”

  “Was he ever identified?”

  “No. It says here the body was in advanced decomposition, and had been pretty well torn apart by animals. You know, first the vultures, then the coyotes or feral hogs. Mostly it was a skull and some bones scattered around. They had to work to gather all the remains.”

  “How did they identify the remains as being a Hispanic male?”

  “Well, you know it’s pretty easy to determine the gender and approximate age, from the bones. There was some other evidence at the scene and on the remains. Maybe DNA indicated it was a person of Hispanic origin.”

  “Was this person about thirty years of age?”

  I could tell Tony was scrolling through the information displayed on his monitor.

  “So it would seem, J.W.”

  “I guess we are going to have to have a conversation with the Rusk County Sheriff.”

  Tony groaned into the phone.

  “What do you mean ‘we’, J.W.? I don’t know anything about it. It has nothing to do with me.”

  “I think the body may have been the remains of a man who was murdered. He was a resident of Tyler. He may have been murdered in Tyler. If he was murdered, I believe he was murdered by a man who is also a resident of Tyler. Is that something that the Detective Lieutenant of the Robbery/Homicide Division for the police department of the city of Tyler, might be interested in?”

  “Ohhh, man.”

  “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”

  “You said ‘may be’, maybe this and maybe that. For all I know there was no murder.”

 

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