by Jeff Nania
“Okay, tell us your story. We’re going to record it. Is that okay with you?”
“Yeah, yeah, I got nothing to hide,” he said. Then he continued, “I went out to visit Marcus. I drove in on the road past a couple of guys cutting wood. Their splitter and saw were making so much noise I don’t think they even noticed me. Well, I get up to the trailer and don’t see anyone. Then I look closer, and I see Marcus lying face down. I started to walk up to him when this big dude steps out from behind the trailer house, and he’s holding like a Molotov cocktail, and he throws it against the side of Marcus’s house and runs. The place starts to burn like crazy. I had heard rumors it might be a lab, and they can explode. I took off for my truck to get the hell out of there, so I put the pedal to the metal. I am flying down the trail, and I lost control a bit and clipped a guy’s wood splitter, but I kept rolling. Then I hear the explosion. I wasn’t hanging around to see what happened next. I took off, and I didn’t look back.”
“What is Marcus’s last name?” I asked.
“Johnson. Marcus Johnson,” he replied.
“What happened to the guy who threw the firebomb?”
“He ran down to the other side of Marcus’s trailer. I couldn’t see what kind it was, but there was an SUV waiting down the hill. You see, Marcus has another driveway that takes you out the back way from his place. You know, like, in case of emergency.”
“What kind of emergency would that be?” I asked.
“Like a fire or something,” he replied. “It didn’t take me long to figure out those guys might come looking for me, so I hid out at my buddy’s shack. Then I hear you guys creeping around and, well, I thought they found me.” Tyler fidgeted. “Hey, what about my truck? Those tires were pricey. Now that you know I am innocent, you should make my truck right.”
There was a knock on the interview room door. One of the deputies summoned me.
“Sheriff, there is someone here to see you. He says it’s important.”
I walked down the hall and found Ricardo.
“John, it sounds like you snagged someone,” he said.
“I don’t know what is going on yet, but we grabbed a guy we can put at the scene of the latest meth lab blowup and homicide.”
“Does that room have a one-way mirror?” Ricardo asked.
“Yes, you can see from the next room over,” I replied.
“Let me get a look at this guy,” Ricardo requested.
I went back into the room and offered Tyler a bottle of water, which he gladly took.
“Tyler, I need the best description you can provide of the guy who threw the bomb. If there is any chance you think you might know who it is, now is the time to say something. The DA is right here. We can’t promise anything, but it would be in your best interest for us to work together. You are facing some serious charges,” I said.
“I’m innocent. I already told you the truth. I didn’t have anything to do with Marcus getting killed.”
“Maybe not, but as a felon, you can’t have a gun, you know, like the one we just took off you.”
“Give me a break, Sheriff. I got a right to protect myself. You know the second commandment of the constitution.”
“Doesn’t apply to you anymore, and I think you mean amendment,” I corrected.
“Honest, you guys, I don’t know who they are. I can’t help you. You’ve got to believe me. I had nothin’ to do with what happened to Marcus. Nothin’,” he pleaded.
“Okay, Tyler, if that’s your story, fine. By the way, we are doing an inventory search of your truck. Is there anything, in particular, we might find that you want to tell us about before we do?” I pushed.
“Oh man, oh man, I am screwed,” Tyler said.
Tyler Winslow was booked and put in a holding cell. Len and I sat down with Ricardo.
“Sheriff, you got yourself one. Tyler Winslow, he’s a dealer alright. He just got out of the joint a few months ago. I think he did about three years on a reckless homicide rap. Sold bad drugs to a girl who OD’d and died. His brother was Travis Winslow, a doper who drowned a while ago.
“The other thing is that he’s definitely not hooked up with the Martin and Gunther crew. We are positive he is connected with the Minneapolis outfit. He connected with them about five minutes after they kicked him out of the joint. One of my people tried to score off him when all the new dope hit the street. He had nothing, or at least he said he had nothing. Maybe he didn’t like the way our guy looked. My guess is that Deacon Gunther and company just hit back, more of the traditional way—firebombs, dead bodies in the yard. Are you going to let us try to flip this guy?” asked Ricardo.
“What do you think he knows that you don’t?” I asked.
“He is on the other side of this thing. I bet he knows some stuff. Just think about it, Sheriff. This is a guy facing a long stretch.”
Winslow’s truck was taken to impound, and the search turned up five grand in cash and a significant quantity of fentanyl. Pharmaceutical grade, most certainly stolen. The quantity was enough that it could put Tyler Winslow back in prison for a long, long time, along with the other charges. •
26
The sun was just coming up when the cabin landline came up on caller ID.
“Hi, Julie. I bet you thought I was abducted by aliens,” I said.
“Not funny, John. You should have called to let me know you weren’t coming home. I was worried something happened to you,” she scolded.
I explained everything. She listened, but I could tell she was not happy with me. The tension came through the phone line.
I was fully expecting to get an earful when I arrived home because I certainly deserved it. That is not what happened. Instead, she sat me down at the kitchen table and fed me breakfast. After eating, I went straight to bed and slept hard. When I woke up, it took me a few moments before I realized where I was.
Julie was gone, but there was a note on the table. “There is more food in the fridge. Just nuke it for one minute. I know that you have got your hands full. Go do what you have to do. We will talk later. If you can, just let me know if you are alright. I love you, John.”
I called Len and Ricardo and asked them to meet at the cabin. By the time I showered and made fresh coffee, they were there. I looked at them, and they looked at me.
“You guys look like hell,” I said.
“So do you,” Len replied.
We sat at the kitchen table.
“Before we get rolling here, anything new?” I asked.
Ricardo shook his head, but Len just looked down.
“Len, what’s up?” I asked.
“Well, Martha has had it. She says that thirty years is enough and anything more is too much. I listened to what she had to say, and she was right on every count. As soon as we get this situation wrapped up, I will retire for good. She told me that she is going to visit her sister in Three Rivers today. That’s what hurt the worst. You see, Martha has always been there for me. No matter what happened when I came home, she was there. Since the day I was first sworn in as a recruit, she has lived every day of this life right along with me, the good and the bad. Tonight when I get home, she won’t be there. I cannot imagine my life without her,” said Len.
We sat silently around the table, each of us lost in our thoughts.
“Anthony, do you have a wife, a family?” Len asked.
“I had a wife. I don’t anymore. I got wrapped up on a case, and I was gone. When I got home, I found a note. She had been gone for over a week, and I didn’t even know. This job and any kind of relationship is just not happening for me. Other guys on the unit seem to make it work, but it doesn’t work for me,” Ricardo replied. “How about you, Cabrelli? Have you screwed up your relationship with Julie yet?”
“I’m working on it, Anthony, and by the looks of it, I’m doing a pretty good job of it,” I said. “So guys, what’s our next step?”
“Our people on the street have made some cases, but I think we are close to weari
ng out our welcome.”
“Solid cases?” asked Len.
“Each one rock-solid,” assured Ricardo.
“Are you getting anything back from your people regarding the homicides?” I asked.
“Nothing other than doper gossip. Maybe it will be different with this last one, but the others, nothing. It seems to me the only potential lead we have is currently cooling his heels in the Namekagon County slammer. He’s looking at some real time. My guess is that given the chance, he’ll flip. He knew and was likely doing business with Marcus Johnson. I bet he can tie Johnson back to that bunch out of the cities. That makes Gunther and his boys front and center suspects, not that they aren’t already. Gunther can’t take the hits on his outfit lying down and stay in business. Two things happen after they get here. First, a new supply of dope appears, making the tweakers very happy. Second, Marcus Johnson gets whacked, and his trailer is torched. Shooting somebody in the front yard, throwing a gas bomb, and running away is not the same program as C-4, a timer and remote detonator. It may not be pretty, but it got the job done. By the way, one of my people says it looks like Deacon Gunther and his crew have set up housekeeping in that sleazy tavern, Outlaws,” Ricardo said.
“What are you ready to pull the trigger on, Anthony?” Len asked.
“We are ready to go on three arrest warrants for people in the area who are probably tied up with Gunther. When the new drugs hit the street, the dealers must have thought it was Christmas and got sloppy. We made several buys.”
“How about we sit down with the DA and draft all the charges on cases you guys have made. You are almost ready to pull your people out, anyway. Why not take the dopers down now, lock them up, and see where that takes us? Let them know that we are looking for information and ready to bargain. All of your cases are against dealers, right? All felonies?” Len asked.
“Most are. We did find a couple of our old friends that we can take for possession. But the rest are felony charges against dealers,” Ricardo confirmed.
“I like this idea. Take them down as fast as we can and see what they know. They have got to know more than we do,” I said.
“We used to call it a doper rodeo. Rope the dopers and haul them in. On the surface, this sounds pretty good. We do this and make plenty of noise. Len, John, your people will make the arrests. I want to limit the exposure my agents have to the media. While this is all going down, we let Tyler sit. We’ll wait him out. The value of what he knows gets diminished with every arrest we make. If he knows something, and I think he does, this will go a long way to convincing him that working with us is a good idea.”
“Let’s run it by Bear,” I said.
Malone talked the plan through with us. These were all felony arrests. Two of the suspects had histories of violence, in particular Randy Muller. He had done two stretches in state prison and had a lengthy record. Notes in his file said he should be “approached with caution” and “considered armed and dangerous.” Two of the subjects met the agents at their place of residence and sold them the drugs. A third suspect met the agent at a bar, then took him back to his apartment to get heroin, which he sold to the undercover agent. The agent noted a short-barreled pump shotgun standing in a corner behind the entry door in that subject’s apartment. No weapons were seen on the other two subjects. We would secure both “no-knock” search and arrest warrants against the suspects. In each case, we would treat these people as armed and dangerous and engage them as such. The takedowns were to be full tactical operations.
We met with DA Hablitch and Lt. Malone, and an assistant attorney general joined us by computer. Ricardo and his people were truly good at their job. The cases were solid. In each case, his agents had gotten into the residences, and while they couldn’t provide a blueprint, they could at least provide some information on the places we would be entering.
In all three cases, they had made at least two buys. There was plenty of probable cause to indicate that they stored their illegal drugs in their place of residence. In addition, they had positively identified the dealers. The warrants were drafted, and we moved over to Judge Kritzer’s office for his signature.
Hablitch called Kritzer’s clerk. She checked with the judge, who said they should meet him in chambers. We knocked, and he opened the door.
The old judge gazed at us with a quizzical look.
“Mr. District Attorney, I see you have assembled quite a crew. Are you here to waste my time, or do you have something of importance for me today? Wait for a minute, though, before we get started,” the judge said and turned to address the chief. “Len, thanks for working on my rifle. It works just fine, smoother than I ever remember. Unfortunately, the deer did not cooperate this year. Now, back to business. Who is going to fill me in?”
“I guess I’ll start. I am Agent Anthony Ricardo of the State Department of Narcotics Enforcement. I was detailed to this area in an attempt to put a drug network out of business. We received confidential information that we have confirmed as being true. A well-established group of drug dealers from the Milwaukee area was going to set up a drug network in northern Wisconsin. While engaged in the investigation, we made contact with several individuals who sold my undercover agents illegal drugs, including methamphetamines, heroin, cocaine, and fentanyl. The specific information regarding each circumstance is detailed in the text of the criminal complaints and arrest warrant.
“There have been four recent homicides in the county. There is no question that these homicides were drug gang related. All the victims had significant criminal records, including arrests and convictions related to illegal drugs,” Ricardo concluded.
“Agent Ricardo, have you and your associates developed a suspect or suspects in these killings?” the judge asked.
“No, Your Honor, we have not. We believe two other drug gangs are trying to establish themselves in the area, and the killings can be attributed to one or both of those gangs,” Ricardo answered.
“Chief Bork and Sheriff Cabrelli, not a week goes by that people don’t appear in my court for drug charges. It seems that illegal drug trafficking, much to my sadness and dismay, is well established here. Please help me understand why this has risen to the level of murder. I am somewhat confused by your approach here. I feel like maybe you are not as forthcoming with me as you should be. Does anyone want to help me sort this out?”
I stepped up, “Your Honor, can I be candid with you?”
“It would be a refreshing change of discourse.”
“The truth is that we have some theories but no suspects in these killings. Our idea is based on several things, not the least of which is that these homicides are a step up from what usually happens. We think these killings are meant to send a serious message to the competition: if you mess with us, we will kill you. The first killing was meant to look like a suicide, and the second involved the use of plastic explosives. These homicides required planning and some sophistication. The next one that happened appears to be more of a normal retaliation. All the victims except the last one were affiliated with the gang from the Milwaukee area. They had to retaliate or pack it up. We think they shot and killed a guy named Marcus Johnson, then firebombed the trailer where he had his lab. We have a material witness locked up right now who we think is connected with Johnson and the gang out of the Twin Cities. He is being held on several charges, including felon in possession of a firearm and possession of a controlled substance with intent to deliver. He is the first real lead of any kind we have had. We believe he has information.”
“So, Sheriff, and anybody else who wants to join in, you believe this rival gang out of the Twin Cities is responsible for these homicides. Is that correct?”
“Your Honor, that is where the difficulty is. We don’t think they are responsible,” Ricardo said.
The judge looked at us incredulously. The DA started to speak, but the judge silenced him by putting his hand up.
Judge Kritzer pulled a gold pocket watch out of his shirt pocket. He push
ed a button that released the cover. He stared at the dial, then raised his head.
“You boys have five minutes to tell me what the hell is going on here. You had better be convincing because if you’re not, you will leave my office immediately.”
Len took the lead. “Judge, we think the people trying to take over the drug dealing in this area are most likely former members of the gang from Superior Shipping and Container. We know the feds got most of them, but they didn’t get all of them. We are not the only ones who think they are trying to pick up the pieces. Lt. Malone agrees with us. They are hitting hard, moving out any competition. That is how they operate. If they are back, we need to get rid of them before they get a foothold.”
The judge closed his watch. “Agent Ricardo, what do you think about this theory?”
“I believe it is highly likely. It fits the pattern that these cartels have established. They take out the competition and put their people in place. They are ruthless. The people they killed were the movers and shakers for the Milwaukee gang. They didn’t waste their time taking out low-level street dealers. The Milwaukee gang doesn’t get it. They are bad boys themselves. They never thought about the eastern Europeans, and they hit back at the wrong outfit. All the better for the Czechs. If they can start a war between these two gangs, it’s less they have to do,” Ricardo responded.
“You have three arrest warrants and three search warrants you would like me to sign. My guess is you hope to gain some information from these people. Maybe do some horse-trading. Is that the plan?”
The DA spoke up, “Yes, Judge, that’s what we hope is going to happen. We also believe the person we have in custody now may be more cooperative if the value of his information has lessened because of the arrests.”
“I am going to read every word of each of these complaints. Let me warn you. If you have in any way come up with trumped-up charges simply to use as leverage to get information, you will find yourselves in front of me, and I will make sure you rue the day you tried to deceive the court.”
