by R C Cameron
“And it’s not over yet,” continued Jennifer. “We believe there's a link between the yacht’s captain, Steiner, Yang Nelson running the Black Cat bar and his girlfriend involved in the import and distribution of vitamins. We must look at her website, her place of business and the relationship with the captain, maybe even the yacht rental company. Something illegal is in play here, we need to identify it. Then we’ll know what happened to Mark Taylor.”
“We are still searching for the two Asians to question them on the incident on your boat. This inquiry is not over,” stated John.
I added, “When you have time, sit around the Black Cat. They hang around there. Or, another option, the Ocean Dancer next trip could see them aboard if they sail again.”
“I’ll check with Freeman if he has these two leads on file. Anything else I can do?” asked John.
“Yes, and this is my central question, John. Do you think we should involve the DEA? I believe Taylor worked for them or they used him. As Jennifer said, this smells like a drug case for several reasons. What do you think?”
“Yes, contact them sooner than later. A case may already exist for Nelson or the Black Cat. You should work with them, or at least advise them you’re in the neighborhood. I can introduce you to the DEA region manager, his office is in Fort Lauderdale.”
“That would be perfect John. Thank you.”
After a pause, I looked at Jennifer and nodded, a sign we had agreed upon earlier.
“Gentlemen, it was a pleasure to meet you but I have other business. If you’ll excuse me.” She said.
She got up to leave, and I motioned JR I had one more thing to discuss. He got up to open the door. “I hope you’ll find your way out Jennifer, just turn left at the corner, you'll reach the elevators. And I hope you’ll find your way back,” he said with his best smile.
He closed the door and now we were one-on-one.
“Nice lady you have working with you, mate.”
“I noticed you liked her. Married with two kids.”
“That’s unfortunate, for me at least.”
“I have one last subject I want to bring up: the murder on my boat.”
“Yes.”
“Over one hundred ships were in the Miami Beach Marina on that day. How did the perps discover which boat I was on? Answer that one, John. The marina's video was clear, the first man walked without hesitation or looking around to my boat. I questioned surfers the previous day and provided them my business card with my phone number only. Nowhere does it say I have a boat and that it’s parked at the Marina next door.”
“What’s the name of your yacht?”
“Private Eye.”
“Not undercover one would say. If I was searching for an investigator that's the first place I would go.”
“Seriously.”
“You could have been followed,” he proposed.
“Unlikely, only one person knew of my boat's location because I told him when I invited him over for dinner.”
“Who’s that?”
“Wayne Freeman.”
“And you think Freeman passed the information to the suspects so they could hurt you? Why would he do that?”
“Uncertain, but when he got dispatched to my location, he seemed surprised to see me. It’s just a feeling, but it’s strong.”
“What do you recommend I do, Jason?”
“Launch an Internal Affairs investigation into his external associations.”
After a long pause, JR continued. “It takes more than a feeling, even a strong one, to launch an IA investigation. You should know that.”
“I know. But I was still hoping you could.”
“I will if you bring me some proof of wrongdoing.”
“OK, I’ll dig and get back to you.”
“Fine. Let me contact the DEA region manager and get back to you, all right?”
“That’s fine JR. I’ll wait for your call. I’m returning this afternoon, take care.”
(--)
I took the elevator and back at the reception desk, I asked if Wayne Freeman was in the building. Might as well strike while the iron is hot. The policeman on duty consulted the directory and placed a call.
“Mr. Freeman, someone to see you at the front desk.”
“The name is Jason Tanner,” I whispered.
“A Mr. Jason Tanner. OK, thanks.”
“Detective Freeman is coming down, take a seat.”
A few minutes later, Freeman arrived in the lobby and after we shook hands, we walked to a quieter space.
“Thanks for seeing me. I was in the neighborhood and curious about the murder investigation aboard my yacht.”
“Well, as you know, the autopsy report confirmed a drug overdose, given by outside action. LeBron and I studied the marina video files and although we see two men walking towards your boat and come back, it does not convince us of their involvement.”
“Did you at least talk to them?”
“Not yet, we must locate them first.”
“I believe the two gentlemen on the video and the Asians that left the Black Cat bar with Mark Taylor are the same people.”
“You think so. I must review the Taylor casebook, I don’t remember this testimony, but I’ll verify it.”
“These two gentlemen crossed my path on a few occasions. If I point them to you, can you at least bring them in for questioning? You have a couple good reasons to talk to them. How about putting a warrant out for their arrest?”
“Too early for a warrant, we don’t even know their names. But we can have a talk with them if you point us in their direction,” Freeman said.
“Did you look at a Yang Nelson during the Taylor investigation?” Freeman was staring, figuring out his reply. The case files never mentioned Nelson even if his name shows up as a part owner of the bar. A basic search on the Internet would give this information.
“Not that I can remember, no.”
“Well, Nelson was a friend of Mark Taylor, a surfing buddy, he may have information.”
Freeman got his notepad out and wrote the name down. “Where can we find him, any idea?”
Reaching for my notepad, I gave him the address on NE 28th Street being careful not to mention the link between Nelson and the Black Cat.
“The apartment may be under his girl friend's name. At least, it's a good starting point. Otherwise, he surfs most mornings at South Point beach. You could find him there.”
“Excellent, thank you for the information. We’ll get on it.”
“Fantastic then, keep me informed if you can.”
“I will. What’s on your agenda now?” he inquired. The last time I provided information to him, a friend got killed. I’ll be damn if I tell him the truth this time around.
“Chicago, I have family matters to attend to and cannot postpone them. I’m flying tomorrow and should be in the windy city for at least a week, maybe more, there are legal issues with my wife’s succession. I’m not sure if I have enough warm clothing for this time of year.”
“Yeah, it can get cold up there. Have a good trip, I’ll call you if something turns up.”
(--)
On my way back from Miami, I called Nadine with an update. I provided Freeman with a new person of interest, Nelson, and where to look for two Asians, connected to Mark's disappearance. We would sort this out, I told her not to despair.
I again reached out to Jennifer about my solo conversation with JR and the brief encounter with Freeman. She was my partner, and I needed to share the information and not keep her ignorant. She confirmed emailing Hank about the Vitamin World of China website to dig out numbers on sales volume or any other pertinent information. Hank had said he would give a 24-hour turnaround.
Late afternoon I arrived in Pompano and avoided most of the heavy traffic on this Monday. I rejoiced to find my yacht again after spending time in my car and on a bunk of crew quarters. I loved my new living quarters and happy to find my bed. The sound of cars crossing Atlantic Bridge did
not prevent me from falling asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
The next morning, with a clear sky promising a warm day, I put on my sneakers, shorts, and headed towards the recent North Pompano Beach Boulevard for a morning jog. This renovated area presents a pleasant separation between the beach and Ocean Boulevard. It has a large grassy areas for sporting activities, family BBQ parties, training equipment, restaurants, and room for small concerts. It was frequent to see folks take part in exercise, or yoga classes along the small strip. The wide sidewalk allowed residents and vacationers to view and enjoy a sight of the ocean and the beach. Other than strolling, you could see all kinds of activities like running, cycling, and roller boarding. Kids, adults, and many pets visited the site. Best times were on weekends when groups arrived early to get a good BBQ spot and set up tables for a beach dinner. Aroma coming from the site was enticing.
After my 45-minute jog, I stopped at the training area where a dozen exercise equipment were waiting to hurt your muscles if running did not get it done yet. I returned aboard for a quick shower. Life was great.
My phone’s message light was flashing. JR had come through again and scheduled a get together with the DEA regional manager day after tomorrow, 10 AM, his office. I was to call JR back only if it was impossible for me to attend. I sent JR a quick text message to thank him.
Mid-afternoon, my phone vibrated in my back pocket, a result of an email from Hank, addressed to both Jennifer and me. Hank would be available at 7 PM if we’re interested to discuss the website. I verified with Jennifer and confirmed she and I would be on the early evening call.
I used the rest of the day to fish waters off Deerfield Beach looking for my dinner on the reefs. During these quiet times, I reflected on the strange Mark Taylor case. They never recovered his body. What was the purpose of his trip to Marathon with the Asians? How close was he to Yang Nelson? We knew he was a DEA informant from Barry Gilmore’s research into Government files and that could explain the cash found in his safe deposit box. But Fentanyl? Why did he have that?
And then, sighting Bruce Steiner. What was his role in all this? He ordered people around and described Nelson as a minor player. Was he leading the pack? Would those trips to Marathon persist? If he continued to captain Ocean Dancer, he would be easy to pick up by authorities, assuming they still looked for him.
I walked inside, grabbed my phone and dialed Barry Gilmore’s number.
“Barry, I am reporting a sighting. Can you verify if any warrants are outstanding for Bruce Steiner? I ran into him and I have an idea where he hangs out.”
“Bruce Steiner, you say? Let me verify right away.”
It only took a few seconds before Barry returned.
“We have a Bruce Steiner on our most wanted list for several criminal offenses including drug possession, distribution, and manufacturing. He has evaded capture in multiple states. He's a slippery person. Add to this, possession and use of explosive materials, linked to the bust that went boom in your days Jason.”
“Nice way to put in Barry. What else?”
“He is armed and dangerous.”
“I can confirm that. Take notes, Barry. I came across Steiner but I believe he goes under the name Brad Scott and captains Ocean Dancer, a large yacht, in South Florida. Yacht Charter of Miami rents the ship out. This would be his current employer. If you start there, see a man named Averell Thompson, he’s the manager. I presume they would have all his contact data.”
“There’s a reward for information leading to his capture, you know.”
“Excellent, send the tip in my name, you’re not eligible and we’ll share the reward if the FBI catches him.”
“Will do, Jason. Talk to you soon.”
I walked back to the aft deck to see my fishing cane agitated and bent in a half moon’s position, to the point of breaking. I grabbed it and reeled in whatever was on the other end. After a short but epic battle, I pulled in a rare red grouper around two pounds. My dinner had arrived. I raised anchor and headed home.
After a delicious meal, I sat at the salon table with my laptop, a notepad and my cell phone. I first dialed Jennifer’s number and then added Hank to the conversation.
“We’re all present Hank. Thanks for your time. As you know, we are interested to know if the website is related to our missing person and how. Is there a connection between the vitamin and the drug distribution businesses? We know both principals live together, it’s natural. Did you find anything else?”
“The vitamin website is a full-fledge transactional site with sales and orders. It includes a product list and functions to set up a user account, view the list, place orders and go ahead to the checkout function. You have run into dozens of similar sites for clothes, jewels, auto parts, and others. It’s like an Amazon but on a smaller scale.”
“That seems elaborated for a mom and pop operation, no?” asked Jennifer.
“Years ago yes, but now, all kinds of providers offer these services in your own colors and brand name. They call it white labeling. They offer all the technology, and you manage a catalog. You create it with descriptions, images, pricing and a few more information. Then, bingo, you have a machine that sends the owner its daily sales figures, and the money posted to his bank account.”
“So, all Sun My has to do is prepare her catalog of vitamins, specify her bank accounts, and she’s in operation,” I said.
“That's it in a nutshell. Orders come into the system, payment is made, and products shipped. So the website will direct every order as they arrive, by email for example, to a location that will match the order with the inventory. Someone would pick the merchandise, package it and ship it, by postal service or by private delivery firms like FedEx or UPS. And that’s about the entire cycle, it’s not very complicated.”
“Do we know where these operations are located?” asked Jennifer.
“Well, the website itself runs on virtual servers in Seattle but business operations can be anywhere, it’s typically sent by email remember.”
“I see, but it would have to be close to the business manager who needs staff for administration and production. It could be in Miami or somewhere close by,” I added.
“My research started with creating a user account to look at the product list and buy some vitamins . My doctor recommends it anyway. But then I dug deeper. I connected to the Seattle servers and poked around databases and files of the site. At first, everything looked normal. But then, I found a series of web pages displayed just like the regular product catalog but inaccessible under my user account.”
“Meaning,” both Jennifer and I asked in unison.
“I presume only selected customers have access to the secret part of the website and not available to the common buyer. Or they have their own private catalog.”
“And how different are these pages?” I asked.
“Well, the catalog included products like Oxycodone, hydrocodone, and buprenorphine, not your common vitamins.”
An ominous silence arrived as we tried to understand this curious information.
“And you don't see these products as a regular customer?” Jennifer asked.
“No, I did not. A site manager would have multiple means to associate a different catalog to a specific user, it's easy. It could be a simple code in the customer account showing a 'special' customer. He would then access the special files.”
I presented my theory to get comments from the team. “So, if I understand well, she sells vitamins, he peddles drugs or opioids or even both, she presents the regular products, he tags his ‘special’ customers for a separate listing. Orders come in, are prepared and shipped from whatever secret location they use, probably around Miami. Does that make sense?”
“It does and do you know the beauty of it Jason?” Hank continued. “Payment arrives with the order, before delivery. It’s excellent for the company’s cash flow and its legitimate money, coming in small amounts and not $10,000 installments that triggers an investiga
tion from banks. The other advantage is cash is king on the street, but on the web, credit cards dominate. They'll get orders from drug users using their own cards or most likely, stolen.”
“Do we have any idea about transaction volumes Hank?” I asked.
“That’s hard to say. I got a look at yesterday’s orders, over a hundred. If the average size is $50, then we’re talking about a $2-million-dollar business with few expenses and no more than two employees.”
“OK, great Hank, thanks for the information. Back to your computer games now.”
“Yes, thanks. I have an epic Battle royal going on, bye.”
While I still had Jennifer on line, I wanted to continue the discussion. “Your thoughts, Jennifer?”
“It looks smart. A vitamin store fronts a drug store, like a magician, a feat of the hands.”
“I’m trying to figure out the delivery aspect, Jennifer. If Hank is right and they ship a hundred orders daily, they must work with a delivery service. Either a pickup occurs where they produce the orders, or they transport them to a delivery office. It’s 100 little or medium-size boxes, just about every day.”
“What if the trips to Marathon were to pick up or drop ingredients or products, Jason? Things they don’t want in a car for obvious reasons such as interception by cops or involved in an accident. The water has always lacked police enforcement.”
“Possible.”
“In that case, they are working with a local delivery service. If we find who, we can locate where they operate from.”
“To deliver all over Florida, they'll use a major carrier, not a local delivery boy. There is just a handful of majors.”
“Here’s what I suggest, Jason. I can go to Marathon and visit each available delivery service. I can be someone looking to ship multiple boxes every day and I’m trying to decide if their service can do the job. Perhaps I could ask for similar companies in the area who are doing it as I'm looking for references. What do you think?”
“That works. But be careful.”
We discussed details and agreed Jennifer would head to Marathon tomorrow while I meet the DEA. We would exchange notes on Thursday.
