I SAT STRAIGHT UP IN BED. Of course! How could I have been so stupid? I’ve always been a sucker for a pretty face and soft brown eyes. Well, I may be slow, but at least I will look into this. And if I’m right, we’ll have one of the big boys. I showered, dressed and headed for my office in less than thirty minutes. Tootie would have some ice tea for me; she was always in by 06:00 hrs., made the coffee for the squad and put on fresh brewed tea for me, so I didn’t even hesitate to stop along the way.
At my desk, I pulled out copies of old reports that I had filed, and Tootie was right there helping me to find everything. She’s one fine secretary! I found the name I was looking for, Sergio, ‘Kiki’ Saavedra. I should be kickin’ my butt all the way up the street and back. Damn! I had even been to his house. Twice! And I had never entered more than the foyer or checked anything all because of his pretty little wife who answered the door and was so helpful. She was the beautiful Cuban woman that I thought looked so innocent because she was headed for church the Sunday morning that I was tossing apartments and houses looking for the shooter of Officer Reinholdt. She had told me where Manuel, the cop killer (that’s what he had tried to do), worked and had begged us to not toss her house. Like the asswipe that I was, I didn’t enter or check her house, but continued to follow her lead.
Why, I wondered, would I not have a clue that the bitch was turning Manuel in because there were bigger fish to catch if we entered her house. I would never forgive myself for this one. Now, Manford was dead and we had another, Officer Weston, along with Reinholdt that would be strapped in wheelchairs and tied to desk jobs for the rest of their careers because they had been crippled by Cuban killers.
Steam was probably coming out of my ears when Sam Sikes entered the office and headed for his cubicle. “Sam, get your ass in here. I can’t believe that Wells and I have been so blind. Look at this file on Sergio, ‘Kiki’ Saavedra. How clean is he? Too damned clean!”
“What’s up, Rod?” asked Sikes. “Didn’t you have a good night? Or are you just out to kick some Cuban’s ass?”
I looked my buddy straight in the eye and responded, “Both, both, Grumpy. That ass hole is too clean. A pillar in the community, damnit, a local business man. But he’s a Cuban and I know he’s as dirty as they come; I’m gonna nail him! I’m gonna need back up when I go after him, and I’d like to know that it’ll be you. Those people are still out to kill me. They think if they knock me off, that Wells and the rest of you will back off. Sikes, I’ll kill you myself if you ever think of backing off from the drugs busts even if something happens to me.”
“Shit, Hawk, you’re not after me. I’m the wrong man. I know you’d haunt me from the grave. I won’t back off and neither will the Sheriff. What you got in mind? You know the whole squad and our crew are one-hundred percent behind you.”
“I know, I know, Grumpy. I’m just so damned mad at myself for being so stupid. I’m gonna get a warrant for the Saavedra house, and I don’t care what little Mrs. Saavedra says with her pretty face and those round, brown, calf eyes; we’re stormin’ that house and tossin’ everything there. I know there’s shit there, and I intend to prove it.”
“I’ve got your back, Randel. Just let me know when and where. We’d better head for briefing. Wouldn’t want to be late!”
“You go ahead, Sikes, I’ll be along in a minute. I want to make a couple of calls first.” I’ll make it under the wire as usual. I’m never late! I put in a call to the captain and asked him to arrange for the warrant. “Captain, if we can obtain the warrant today if it’s not too late, I’d like to storm that house about 05:00hrs. in the morning. If there are any leaks, no one will have time to let Saavedra move anything or hightail it out of there. Can we get a tail on Saavedra this evening and stake out the house? I want to know who goes in and out of there. My guys can all be ready by morning; we have all our equipment, and I can have Criminalistics out there early too. I want this guy so bad I can taste it, Cap., and it doesn’t taste good.”
“I’ll take care of everything, Randel, and I’ll clue in the Undersheriff. I’ll talk with him personally. What do you have on this guy anyway?”
“Not a damned thing, Captain. That’s what’s so damned weird. But I know that he’s dirty as they come. I just need some proof. Tell the judge that we suspect that he is hiding or transporting illegals or some crap like that. I don’t care what the excuse is, I want in that house, and I don’t want to have to ask permission.”
“See me after briefing, Randel. Come straight to my office.”
“Yes sir, Captain. I’ll be there. Want me to bring Wells with me?”
“No, I want a little private time with you first.”
I slid into my chair at briefing just under the gun. Lieutenant Arnold looked at me guardedly as he began. “Officers, this should be a fairly quiet evening and weekend. We don’t have any big events scheduled in the downtown area, so you should all be able to check every door to see if it’s locked, every alley to clear the street people, and to keep the parks clean.
I want good reports tonight, Saturday and Sunday. You’re crew, Officer Randel, is still scheduled to clean up the prostitution and drugs, so any officer spotting anything going down, call Officers Randel, Sikes, Wells, Riley… You all know who they are. We’ve got to support these guys all we can. They’re doing a great job. Sergeant Douglas will call out the pertinent issues for today.” With that, (Benedict) Arnold shuffled from the podium. He looks a little harried, I thought. Wonder if he still thinks that someone is following him? Could be! Maybe a good psychiatrist got hold of him.
Now I am not one to cast dispersions on anyone, but I felt that Lieutenant Dan (Benedict) Arnold was becoming a little paranoid. Recently he had become obsessed with the feeling that someone was constantly following him, and he actually thought that maybe some of the Cubans might be after him. What the hell would they want with a little chicken shit like him? He’s so inept that you could consider him on their side. That would include Sergeant Dumb Dumb Douglas too. They make a perfect pair.
In reality, he was being followed. After he ditched Sikes and me at the car-jacking where Sikes was shot, and then appeared at the undersheriff’s office for my private briefing, I never forgave him and neither did my buddies. We had worked out with some of our friends from vice to keep an eye on him for us so that we could tantalize and worry him. They had done a great job.
Arnold would call dispatch and complain that someone was following him, and ask that one of his or our squad check it out. Of course, by the time one of Frank, Adam, Baker or David units called in, there was never anyone tailing Arnold. “I know someone was there. I just saw a dark car without headlights, about two cars behind me. When I turned the car turned, when I drove up the alley, they followed. I called you and high tailed it out of the alley and now you tell me no one was behind me? I’m not blind! I know when I’m being followed. I want somebody to catch the sons-of-bitches!”
Officers would assure Arnold that they were right behind him; they would flash their lights for him, and would tell him that they saw no one. Of course, the vice officers would have turned the corner, or would have gone the other way. Sometimes, even they would come on and say, “Lt. Arnold, we’re right on the corner that you just passed, sir, and there is no one behind you that looks suspicious. We’ll follow far back for a block or so to see if we notice anything.”
All this was taking a toll on our infamous lieutenant. He had even engaged Sergeant Dumb Dumb in following him, trying to spot his tail. We had continued to torment him for about two weeks, when he literally screamed over his radio, “Damn it, Control, send all available units to Decatur and Charleston. I know that I’m being followed by a dark vehicle. I have pulled over twice and so has that car. When I move, it moves. I’m not messing around. I want that bastard arrested.” Huh Uh! That’s not correct radio procedure. We’ll have to write the Lieutenant up for that one.
“All units be advised:” ordered Cheri’, “320 needs immediate back up at Decatur and Charleston. A possible 425 vehicle is following the lieutenant.”
The radios were silent as no officer responded.
“Control, where the hell’s my backup? Where’s Douglas? Can’t he at least respond? Where is everyone?”
“Control, Frank-3 Enroute. I’m right behind 320. I have him in view. There is no one following him except a little old man and woman that just now turned into Joe’s Café parking lot. Sorry sir, false alarm.” I passed Arnold on his right and drove ahead of him. I neither acknowledged him further nor spoke directly with him. Little bastard!
Situations similar to this continued to happen for the next few weeks then one morning Lieutenant ‘Mean’ Gene Germain took me aside. “Rod, the captain asked me to tell you fellows that he thinks Arnold has had about all he can stand. He has been scheduled with the psychiatrist. I think it’s time to knock it off. Even Douglas is paranoid now. You’ve made your point, so drop it.”
“You mean you don’t want us to follow him or back him up anymore? That’s great, L.T. We’ve got better things to do than to baby sit that numb nuts. No problem. Consider it done.” Germain smiled snidely. He knows that I never lie. Well, sometimes I do skirt the truth though. Anyway, Arnold and Douglas got what they deserved.
“We’ve all had enough fun with this little game, Hawk. Let vice know we’re through too.” Damn, the L T. knows everything! He’s one ‘with it’ guy. I’m glad he’s my supervisor and not Arnold.
After briefing I stopped by the captain’s office. “Good morning, Rod. How are things going? You seem pretty frantic about getting into Saavedra’s house. What you thinking?”
“Well, Captain, I should have realized before that Mrs. Saavedra was too easy to work with. She is one beautiful woman, and she seems like such a nice lady, a young mother and all. But this morning I woke up thinkin’ about her and wondering why she was so anxious to tell me where that killer Manuel was. She directed me to the restaurant where he worked. Then, when we didn’t find him and went back to her house, she even called the restaurant manager and told him to give Manuel up to us. I should have realized then that it wasn’t that she didn’t want us to mess up her clean house. Hell no, she knew what we’d really find.”
“And what do you suppose that is, Hawk?”
“Like I said, Cap., I’m not sure, but there’s something there. I need the opportunity to look. I’ve already put out some feelers and I know that Saavedra owns six Mexican food restaurants and bars in town. They all have Cuban managers. He also dabbles in fast cars and light airplanes. I’m very curious where he spends his own time. I sure as hell don’t want to alert this ‘Kiki’ before I’m ready to run him in.”
“You sure you don’t need more time to get your ducks in a row, Randel?”
“No sir. I’d like to know that the judge will be available for the weekend though, just in case we need to storm Saavedra’s restaurants, warehouses his plane hangars, or anything else. I may need more warrants, and quick. Right now, I’m just looking for a little evidence, maybe some drugs, maybe some book work, anything. I know I’m not wrong.”
“Well, Hawk, the judge and I are both putting our trust in you. If you’re wrong, we’ll both be hung out to dry.”
“Well sir, I won’t leave either of you hangin’, I can almost guarantee it. I seldom have premonitions like this that don’t pan out. I’ll keep you in the loop, but I’d just as soon use land lines to speak with you while the toss is in progress.”
“You’ve got it. You’ve got my home phone, Randel. The wife and I are planning on going to Lake Mead tomorrow for a little fishing. But, I’ll call you. Let dispatch know where. The judge will have your warrant ready in thirty minutes. Take it real easy Randel. We need your experience and quick mind. You’re the best we have. Sikes too! Your whole team is first rate.”
“Thanks, Captain. We won’t disappoint you.”