After three meetings in three days with Agent Boswhite, both Caldwell and Paulie feel very fortunate to have him as their guide. He’s undoubtably a straight arrow—forthright and generous with his knowledge.
For their first case, Boswhite recommends that they tackle a money laundering scheme for the Sinaloa Cartel. Boswhite advises them to tread carefully since the target is a civic leader, a young and philanthropic owner of a rapidly expanding chain of Mexican supermarkets. Boswhite reminds them to come to him if they have any questions. In any event, he’s available to help guide them through the investigation.
The new partners dig into the files of José Medina Mendoza, the 30-year-old superstar businessman. They’re told that much of the information comes from an informant, a former employee who swore that he overheard Mendoza laying out his scheme. But the information is vague at best—just enough to pique the interest of the FBI, but nowhere near sufficient for an arrest, let alone a grand jury investigation.
On paper, Mendoza is exemplary. Born in Sinaloa, Mexico, the boy was smuggled into the United States at the age of six by his mother Sylvia, then just 22 years old. Mendoza excelled in school but dropped out of college in his second year to join the Marines, serving in Vietnam. He was decorated, gained his citizenship, and came home a hero to his family and his country.
Everything changed for Mendoza when, according to the informant, his uncle Eduardo, his mother’s brother, brought him down to Mexico. There Eduardo introduced the 22-year-old José to his friends in the Cartel, who quickly recognized his intelligence. They lent him money to start his grocery store business, which flourished.
Today, José, now known simply as Joe, is the owner and operator of twenty-two stores throughout Mexican communities in the Los Angeles area. No one knows exactly how he’s doing it, but it’s clear that the businesses continue to flourish, as more and more stores open each year.
What’s more, the papers and the Hispanic media love him. He contributes to political campaigns and charities and aligns himself with respectable businesspeople and law enforcement leaders. In other words, if there is some wrongdoing, he’ll be a tough nut to crack.
There seems to be no way in. Paulie, with his extensive experience in the grocery business on account of his grandfather’s store, is especially frustrated. Weeks go by, but still no results.
Then, one Sunday afternoon, while walking along the beach in Santa Monica, Paulie recalls the countless cases of canned Italian plum tomatoes that were constantly being delivered to his grandfather’s store. When he was younger, it seemed like he and Vincent were always unloading dozens and dozens of cases of tomatoes. He gets that the Neighborhood loves their gravy, but there’s no way they went through that much.
Paulie considers this on his way home and calls Vincent.
“Hey, you remember all those cases of tomatoes we used to unload at Papa Tony’s?” he asks.
“Yeah, so what?”
“Remember how they just seemed to disappear so fast, and we wondered how it was possible for the Neighborhood to go through so many so quickly? Papa Tony must have sold them to other Italian grocery stores, right?”
“Again, so what?”
“Well, I’m working on this big operation and trying to figure out how they are laundering so much money.”
“Have you lost your mind? Are you really trying to get me involved in a Federal investigation? There’s no fucking way.”
“Take it easy. I was just interested in your thoughts. You always were good at figuring out things. But, you know, fuhgedddaboudit. I’ll just talk to you later.”
“Don’t be so fucking sensitive, G-Man. Let me think about it for a fucking minute, okay? First off, how do you know if they are actually laundering money? Do you have any fucking facts or are you just harassing people the way you guys do here in Chicago?”
“My gut tells me that they are. I’m trying to figure out how—which is my job, by the way.”
“Let me roll this around in my mind for a minute. Tell me all you know and don’t spare the details.”
When Paulie finishes laying it out, Vincent says he’ll give it some thought and get back to him.
“But, don’t tell anyone, boy scout,” Vinnie warns his friend. “That’s all I need is for word to get out that I am helping you.”
He hangs up. Paulie looks out the window, frustrated. Vincent, on the other hand, has an idea.