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Authors: Gerald Petievich

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BOOK: The Quality of the Informant
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"He's going across," Kelly said. "Should we stay on him?"

"We might as well see where he's going," Carr said.

"With our luck, he's probably going across the line to pick up a six pack of American beer," Kelly said.

At the checkpoint, a border patrolman leaned down and said something to Mora. Mora answered. The patrolman stepped back from the camper. He nodded, and Mora drove into the United States.

Carr followed, using other vehicles on the freeway for cover. He sped up as they neared the outskirts of San Diego. Maneuvering the sedan around some vehicles, he pulled up to within three car lengths of the green camper. "We'd better stay close," Kelly said. "He might turn off for town."

"That's not it," Carr said in a worried tone. "I think it's the wrong camper."

"You're right," Kelly said angrily.

Stepping on the gas, Carr zoomed past the vehicle. Ahead on the highway were a couple of sports cars and a sedan pulling a boat.

"
Sheeyit
!" Kelly said. "He must have already turned off.
We missed him!"

Carr jammed the accelerator to the floor. The car sped north on the highway for two miles. Teddy's camper was nowhere in sight.

"Time to backtrack," Carr said.

Carr swung the sedan violently onto the dirt shoulder of the road, threw a wheel spinning U-turn, and crashed across the curb and grass in the middle of the highway. Racing south, he took the next off ramp. Similarly structured motels had been built on either side of the freeway. Slowing down, Carr pulled into the nearest motel parking lot. He drove slowly, scrutinizing the rows of automobiles. It took a few minutes to cover the whole lot.

"
Sheeyit
!" Kelly said. "We've lost him. We came all the way to Mexico on our day off and lost him!" The Irishman's bear paw hands slammed the dashboard.
"
Shee-hee-yit
!"

"Let's check out the motel on the other side of the freeway," Carr said.

He maneuvered the sedan up the street and into another motel lot.

The green camper was parked under a strong streetlight next to the motel office. "There's our boy," Carr said. "Standing by that phone booth."

"Must be some kind of a deal," Kelly said.

Carr's eyes surveyed the other cars parked in the lot. He made one pass and drove out of the lot and up a grade that led to a residential area. They passed a foreign car facing down the bill toward the motel.
It was occupied by two young men
.

"Looks like Teddy might be in a little trouble," Carr said.

Kelly nodded. "Now that you mention it, there were some people sitting in cars..."

Carr pulled into a parking space across from a Spanish stucco home. Below, the motel parking lot was in full view. Teddy paced around the telephone booth. He kept looking at his watch.

"This could be real interesting," Kelly said.

 

LaMonica
had been staring out the motel window for a long while.

Sandy stood in front of the bathroom mirror applying makeup. "I'm going to go over there and talk to Mr. Cool," she said.

"Not just yet,"
LaMonica
said, leaning against the window frame. "I want to show you something."

She came to the window and stood beside him. "Just watch for a few minutes," he said.

She gave him a puzzled look. "What am I supposed to be watching for?" she said. "Oh, there's Teddy's camper."

LaMonica
grabbed the phone off the table beside him and dialed.

A woman's voice: "Sandstone Motel."

"Mr. Cole's room, please,"
LaMonica
said.

The phone clicked. Mr. Cool said hello.

"This is
LaMonica
. Sandy wanted me to phone you. We've decided to call the thing off. I just spoke with Teddy. He says
there's cops
watching the Sandstone. He's got the package in his camper right now the whole thing. I told him to get his ass back across the border as fast as possible. You'd better do the same."
LaMonica
set the receiver down. He picked it up again and dialed.

Sandy stared at him. "Why did you tell him there was something wrong? Why did you lie to him?" she said angrily.

"Keep your eyes on Teddy," he said.
LaMonica
dialed the pay booth. The phone rang.

"Teddy's going into the phone booth," she said.

"Hello." It was Teddy's voice.

"The whole thing is burned!"
LaMonica
said. "Get the hell out of there right now! We've been snitched off. Cops all over the place!" He slammed the phone down.

Teddy ran out of the booth to the camper truck. Men in street clothes jumped out of vehicles and ran to the camper. They had guns. Cars sped into the motel lot.

"Cops!" Sandy said.

The plainclothes cops spread eagled Teddy against the side of his camper truck. They ripped seats and bedding out of the van and tossed it on the pavement. Teddy was searched and searched again.

Sandy shook her head for a long while. Finally she dropped back on the bed as if she had been punched in the stomach. "It had to be Mr. Cool," she said stoically. "Mr. Cool is an informant." Her hands covered her face. "That rotten ... How did you know?" she moaned.

"Just an educated guess,"
LaMonica
said.

"What about Teddy?" she said.

"They've got nothing on him,"
LaMonica
said. "They'll have to let him go." He picked up the telephone.

"Who are you going to call now?" Sandy muttered.

"Lockhart," he said. "Now it's safe to go ahead with our thing."

 

****

 

Chapter 21

 

KELLY USED the binoculars to get a better view of the activity at the Sandstone Motel. "
Feebs
," he said. He put the binoculars in Carr's hands. "That's my guess.

Carr used the binoculars for a moment. "You pegged that one," he said. "Tom
Luegner
just walked out of one of the rooms.

"I wonder what that asshole is doing down here?" Kelly said.

Plainclothesmen climbed in and out of Teddy's camper. They took out the seats and put them back. Someone lifted the hood of the vehicle and fiddled around in the engine compartment. The hubcaps were removed and replaced.
Luegner
pointed his finger at Teddy's face. The gaunt man kept throwing his hands up and gesturing at his van. Other agents milled about. Some made notes on clipboards. The camper was searched again. Finally, after an hour or so, Teddy was allowed to leave. He got in his truck and drove out of the lot, steering south when he reached the freeway.

The FBI men took their time piling into vehicles and departing. Only
Luegner
was left. After a while, the crowd of motel guests that had gathered to watch the gangbusters returned to their rooms.

A black man came out of a ground-floor room. He approached
Luegner
sheepishly, shaking his head. As he spoke, he kept throwing up his hands.

"He must be the snitch," Kelly said.

Carr nodded. "Could be," he said.

Luegner
patted the man on the shoulder. The black man shook his head some more and returned to his room.
Luegner
climbed into his sedan and departed. Minutes later the black man exited his room and climbed into a gold Cadillac. Carr noted the personalized license plate: MR. COOL.

"Let's follow him," Carr said.

"What for?" his partner said.

"It might be interesting."

Carr started the engine. He drove down the hill and waited near the freeway. The Cadillac headed south. The agents followed, keeping far behind. When it became clear that they were about to cross the border again, Kelly made a gruff remark about having nothing better to do on a weekend than drive in and out of Mexico.

They followed the Cadillac through Tijuana and along the coast past
Rosarita
Beach. By the time they reached Ensenada it was almost midnight. The black man pulled into a motel at the edge of town and parked. He climbed out of the Cadillac and strolled to a room near the swimming pool. Removing a key from his pocket, he unlocked the door and went in.

Carr and Kelly approached the motel room carefully. The light was still on. Carr put his ear to the door. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kelly slip his revolver out of its holster and hold it in the pocket of his windbreaker. They positioned themselves on either side of the door. There was the sound of a radio playing rock music.

Carr knocked.
The sound of a drawer being opened and closed.
"Who's there?" said the black man.

"Agent Carr. My partner and I work with Tom
Luegner
." He kept his voice low. Footsteps came to the door. Carr thought he could hear the man breathing.

"What do you want?"

"Tom asked us to run something by
ya
," Carr said.

Nothing was said for a few moments, and then, "Slide your I.D. card under the door."

"Sure." Carr removed his Treasury credential from his wallet and shoved it under the door.

"This
ain't
no Bureau I.D.," said the voice inside.

"Look man, Tom
Luegner
and I work together on a federal agency task force," Carr said. "You can call him if you want," he said, showing a set of crossed fingers to Kelly.

Footsteps. A drawer was pulled open and something heavy was tossed inside. The drawer slammed closed. Moments later, the chain latch was removed and the black man pulled open the door. Without a greeting, he shuffled to a chair and plopped down.

"What is all this bullshit, man? I need to get me some
muthafuckin
' sleep."

"Sorry to wake you up," Carr said, "but Tom said you wouldn't mind talking with us for a few minutes. It's about
LaMonica
."

The black man rubbed his eyes. "I don't know
nothin
' about the
muthafucka
'
cept
he's a paper man and he escaped from the federal joint. He's got a crib down here, but nobody knows exactly where it is. Say, how come Tom isn't asking me these
muthafuckin
' questions his own self? He knows I don't like to be
meetin
' a lot of
muthafuckin
' people."

"What kind of paper is
LaMonica
into right now?" Carr said. He sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Fuck if I know. I didn't even know what kind of
muthafuckin
' paper was supposed to be delivered at the Sandstone tonight. I just knew the thing was supposed to go down there. I worked my way in through this bitch
ya
see. She's
LaMonica's
ex-girl friend. She's using me as insurance
cuz
she don't trust the
muthafucka
." The black man's eyes were on Kelly. The Irishman stood at the dresser staring at a flipped-open wallet. "
Luegner
told me he wasn't going to give my identity to anyone else. He told me I didn't have to meet no other cops." The man's eyes darted back and forth between the T-men. "I don't think I'd better say anything else until I talk with him."

BOOK: The Quality of the Informant
12.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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