"Did Glen every mention going somewhere on vacation before he quit here," asked Stacy.
"We'll he did say he was going south on some business and would be back in a few weeks time. He told me that he would find a way to supply at least a few of us who had money," he said.
Back in the van they drove to Glen Wilson's apartment just off east Burnside. The apartment was a long ways from the high rent district. All of the evidence had been removed to the Portland office. However, all three wanted to see where he lived and how he lived. One never knows what might reveal itself. Stacy for one knew this very well. Her training taught her to look for the little things and the obscure or unrelated what might be construed as superfluous. Be that as it may, Stacy was eager to get a 'feel' of Glen Wilson. Once inside the crime tape, Stacy first went to the kitchen.
He might have been sick porno drug dealer, but he was fairly clean about his kitchen. No dirty dishes were evident, but then upon inspection, there were few dishes to be found period. Other than two frozen ice trays, a bottle of almost empty ketchup, some stale bread, the fridge was empty. It was clear that the police who had searched the apartment had done a thorough job. However, she remembers taking a class where the instructor said that the kick board under the counters in the kitchen or in the bathroom was favorite hiding places.
Stacy looked carefully under the kitchen counters, but could see there wasn't any recent disturbance there. She moved to the bathroom. Even though the room smelled like urine, Stacy ignored that fact and squatted down for a look under the sink. She saw where a small flap of linoleum hung down for an easy pull. Stacy pulled and after she removed a piece of plywood, about 3" X 12" she discovered his hiding place. She called for Rory and Ben to come see what she found.
"I've found the lost treasure of Peru Flake," she said while drawing out a large kilo bag of cocaine. "And lookie here what we have," pulling out a Zip lock bag full of pictures. Then with a small Maglite she saw one more Ziplock bag. It was full of hundred dollar bills. Rory gave off a big whistle.
"That money bag would explain the four one hundred dollar bill in his wallet. Also, it would appear he wasn't on a buying run because his stash of money is in his apartment. This complicates the case somewhat," Rory said.
"I agree," said Stacy. "Why would he drive all the way to Bandon to shake down Gordon Yeast? There's more here than meets the eye."
Ben said, "Maybe our vic had a partner and the meeting went wrong somehow. We need to find that van. I thing some answers reside inside his vehicle. Of course it's entirely possible it's not even in the state anymore."
They went to the state police office. An hour later all had combed through the evidence of pics, websites, video all related to pornography. One thing Stacy wondered about was what bank or banks were used to stash the money in. It isn't hard to set up a credit card account at a bank. Well, Stacy thought she'd leave that end of things to the local investigators.
Flying home she was very quiet; Rory noticed. Stacy was mulling over the time spent in Portland. After considerable thinking, Stacy had written down some questions:
1. Found one kilo bag of coke.
2. Found baggie of cash: $35,000.
3. Found porno pics of men with men.
Note: The evidence lends itself to major drug dealing and porno exploitation.
A. Was Glen Wilson working alone?
B. Was he meeting someone in Bandon?
C. Why quit his job?
D. Where is his vehicle?
E. Who took his vehicle?
Stacy felt the wheels hit the runway in North Bend. Rain was streaming down the windows from a late summer storm on the west coast.
It was agreed they would meet the next morning to hash over what had developed from their trip to Portland. Stacy drove home more confused than ever. She had read that Glen Wilson drug screen showed no signs of any drugs. He was clean and sober. The deeper she went the more complex Glen Wilson seemed. It was doubtful he was working alone. But why would someone kill him? He didn't have any large amounts of cash on him, but wait, she thought, maybe he had a wad of stash in his van. She pushed the foot feed down in a bit of hurry to get home and talk to her father.
Back home, clothes changed after a hot shower, she sat down with her father to talk about the case. She told him all the facts of the Portland trip. He just nodded and grunted a couple times. Stacy finished and said, "We think his van or vehicle is germane to the case. I'm thinking he was on his way for a buy of drugs or to sell some porno pictures. What did Paul find out in Langlois?"
"He found a burned out van with the license plates missing. However, we're sure it was the homicide victims vehicle. The numbers matched. We did a fairly close search but the inside revealed nothing of interest. No burned cash, no burned pictures, just a typical vehicle. Sorry Stacy."
"It seems to me that we're just spinning our wheels here. I've no doubt we're missing something. What that something is, well………. I don't know."
"Okay Stacy, let's assume he was here to buy or sell either drugs or pictures. It would seem to me that Bandon is a strange place to do either of those transactions. Now if he were just traveling through, to make a buy or to sell, where on the coast would he do that? There's not much between here and San Francisco. If he was going to California, why wouldn't he take the I-5 freeway? Let's go back to why or possibly why he was here in Bandon. I'd say he was here to meet someone. Who that someone was, is your job. We could speculate all night long and not come up with the answer. However, let's set aside the porn and think about the drugs. You say he had a kilo of cocaine in his house. If there was any drugs in the van, they're long gone by now. Besides, the population here doesn't warrant that volume of cocaine. Let's not forget that some high rollers come to the condos just to the north of us to play golf and party. But once again, those types would have brought it with them rather than order it delivered.
I'll leave you with this thought Stacy. What does Bandon have that would seem workable for a large transaction of drugs?"
Stacy went to bed. Physically she was beat; but mentally the wheels were turning faster than ever. The last time she looked at her bed stand clock, it was just past 1 am. She finally drifted off only to be woken up with the sun streaming through her bedroom window. The rain had passed and what followed showed signs of a lovely fall day coming. She needed to think so she put on her sweats and drove to the jetty. The wind had a bite to it, but her Portland Trailblazer wind breaker was adequate for the job. Amazing there were a few people out and about. Two old timers were jetty fishing with steaming cups of coffee keeping them company. She smiled thinking someday her father would be joining the senior group. A few small boats were inside the bar fishing.
She looked back towards town and saw a larger boat coming towards the bar. She recognized the boat as a charter. Bandon by the Sea was becoming known for charter fishing. It was nice to see the tourist dollars flowing into the small community, she thought, as the boat passed by with hopeful folks smiling and waving. The captain saw who was on the jetty and gave a blast of the horn.
Stacy stared at the charter boat as it crossed the bar heading out to the open ocean. Her brain was on fire, or maybe it was electricity, as a 60 watt light bulb went off in her mind. She turned on her heels and for short legs she took long strides to her car. She needed to see the Coast Guard about some idea she had.
Meanwhile Rory had been trying to call her. Stacy had forgotten to turn her cell on. Besides, if the truth were known, she didn't have time for him right at this moment in time. She hurried into the office where a smiling Coast Guard sailor welcomed her. At this time of year, just after Labor Day the Coast Guard boat moves up to Coos Bay leaving a skeleton crew down in Bandon. If need be, in an emergency the Guard can call in a helicopter for rescue purposes. Labor Day is the last day for the Coast Guard to be in Bandon. With storms approaching it's not advisable to cross the bar at this time of year.
Stacy asked, showing him her police ID, "H
ave you heard or know about any ocean going crafts coming into the harbor from the south? What I mean is anything that might be suspicious transporting drugs?"
"Not that I'm aware of at this time. Let me contact Coos Bay and see what they have to say. We don't have a lot of sea traffic in or out. Mostly it's just the charter boats and occasionally the sheriff's boat that patrols for fishing infractions. Once in awhile we see a large pleasure yacht come in from California."
Stacy heard every word he said. She asked, "Does the sheriff's boat ever go out across the bar?"
"Yes, we have a record but we understand the sheriff is going out fishing for his own pleasure. We know he pays for his own fuel and never on official duty; or at least that is what he says."
Stacy was inwardly churning with excitement. She asked, "When was the last time the sheriff's boat went out across the bar?"
"Let's see," as he flipped through the daily records, "ah here we go, the boat went out three weeks ago last Friday."
Stacy didn't need to write it down. She thanked the guy and left to go home, change and make contact with Rory and Ben. She was not sure if what she had about Sheriff Yeast was germane to the case, but it was lead to follow up on. It might be stretching the distance, but it could be possible the counties sheriff's boat might have met another craft at sea for a drug shipment? Even to her it sounded a little farfetched. She decided to tuck the information away for the time being. There was plenty of work to do in the meantime.
At the police station Flo told Stacy as she walked in that Rory had been trying to reach her for hours. "Lord girl, that man has it bad. I wish someone had a crush on me like that boy has on you!" she said. Stacy laughed and knocked on the chief's door.
Chief Ray looked up and motioned her in. "He said, "You left the house early. Something on your clever mind officer?"
"If you promise not to laugh, I'll tell you what I've uncovered, but can't prove," she said while sitting down across from him.
The chief popped in a Halls to help ward off a sore throat that he knew was coming. "I quit laughing when your mother passed on Stacy. Go ahead."
Well, it's possible, but kind of far out, but the victim Glen Wilson was a big time drug dealer. From the evidence he was both a dealer in drugs and porn. I think he came down here from Portland to pick up a drop or to pass on some porn to an unknown person or persons. I was at the Coast Guard Station and discovered that besides the charter fishing boats going out across the bar, the sheriff's boat makes an occasional trip out to open water. What if the sheriff's boat was rendezvousing with a shipment of drugs from the south; even as far south as Mexico?"
"My first reaction is that you're reaching, but you can't discount the possibility. A sheriff doesn't make a lot of money; like me too. His cost of rehab for his son is not cheap. Be that as it may, don't neglect what you have going on at this time. I suggest start at the beginning and look at what you know and what you don't know. See if you can find a money trail. I wonder, what they found on the victims computer. If this money trail leads to banks, then the FBI will become involved; especially if it leads to off shore accounts."
"I found the answer to our question: 'what does our town of Bandon have of interest to a drug dealer?' The answer is: a harbor."
The next thing she knew Rory and Ben walked in. Rory was all smiles, but questioned why she didn't answer her phone. She told him she forgot to turn in on early this morning. He said, "How about some breakfast. I'm starving and Ben already ate at home. He wants to do a search on the burned van just to satisfy himself. After he leaves, I'm afoot. I want to interview the sheriff's son Gordon Yeast. Could you or would you call and see if we can see him this lovely morning?"
"Indeed I will. Meanwhile, is there any news on tracing Glen Wilson's bank accounts or credit card trails," asked Stacy.
"Let's talk about across the street where I know they have some ham and eggs waiting for me."
"I'm ready. Let me call first and I'll meet you across the street. I don't want your eggs to get cold. Order me some sourdough toast with strawberry jam please," said Stacy.
Ten minutes later she said down with Rory. His breakfast had almost disappeared. She jammed up her toast and said, with a mouthful, "We can meet him at 10 am here in Bandon. He said he needed to see a friend down here anyway."
"Tell me what you think has transpired before the homicide and all subsequent events until today."
"You don't want much, do you," he said swilling down the last of his coffee. My captain, colleagues from Portland, all think we have something way bigger than just a homicide here in Bandon. First there's the drug issue, then the porno issue, then the trip down here from Portland issue; and last of all the homicide where somebody glued his feet to the wall. Why would anyone do that is beyond me," he said drooling over her toast. She gave him one slice. He smiled as if it was a gift from heaven.
Stacy wiped her mouth and said, "Glen's van was found burned out in the hills east of Langlois. Why? Because of some evidence inside or was someone just pissed off. A ton of coke is found in his apartment along with a ton of cash and a pile of trash pics of guys doing guys. Now, Rory, why was Glen Wilson here in Bandon?"
"If I knew that we'd be half way home. Needless to say, with a kilo bag of cocaine and a pile of cash in his apartment tells us he intended on coming back home. Why did the guy quit his job? It appeared he had a good thing going on. If you can call that a good thing. Okay, the big question is what was he doing at that little store in the middle of the night?"
"And, let's not forget it probably took two guys to assault him," said Stacy.
"Yes, that means we're looking for two killers and not just one," said Rory.
Both sat there thinking. Stacy was thinking who two guys, who must be friends, would meet Glen Wilson at the small store and kill him. Rory was thinking alright, but not about the case. He was gazing at Stacy admiring her almost hidden freckles. He thought that when she was younger she must have had very evident freckles. He'd love to see a picture of her then. He realized she was talking to him and he looked up……….
"Earth to Rory," she said. "You looked like you were a million miles away. I said, "Let's take a drive down to the store and talk to the Perkins girl again."
"Eh….sorry…..okay, where did you want to go," said a confused Rory.
"I said, follow me. We've a little time to kill before Gordon arrives. Pay the bill by the way. You make a lot of money," she said smiling as she walked out the door with him checking her backside out.
"I think we're missing something with the Perkins clan. Remember the boy said they came home around 1:30 to 3:00 am. Let's see if we can shake them up a little bit. I'm going to bluff so just follow my lead. Maybe with the threat of a murder charge, they'll fess up to what I think might have occurred," said Stacy.
"And what might that be," asked Rory as they pulled into the store parking lot.
"I think they found some drugs in the van. The keys were in it and one of the boys drove it down to Langlois and set it afire," said Stacy.
"You mean they looked around and found a body behind the store. Then they stole the van? Well, what have we to lose," said Rory as they pulled behind the store into Stan's place.
"Junior answered the door with sleepy eyes. Working swing shift usually means sleeping till noon. However, his mother saw the police car and woke him up. Junior beckoned with is hand to come in. He flopped into his father's easy chair and pointed at the old sofa for the two of them to sit down.
Stacy said, "Junior, we found the burned out van of the victim. A gas station attendant saw it drive up the hill at around 2 am. Now here's what we think happened: you may have murdered the van driver and discovered inside the van a large cache of cocaine, along with an undetermined amount of money. At the very least we can see you charged with accessory to commit murder and if we can find the drugs, so much the better. Now what have you to say?"
Junior was wide eyed with both hands gripping the arms of the chair.
He tried to say, "Ahhhhhhhh……no, no - no…. I, we, have anything to do with stealing his van and we only saw it sitting on the corner of the store with the front door open. Me and Eddie looked behind the store and saw this dude's feet up against the wall. Eddie checked and he was still warm, but dead. We high tailed it out of there. But wait, there was another car not far from the van. We thought that someone ran out of gas or broke down as nobody was around that we could see. I swear we didn't have nothing to do with killing the guy. We drove down the Beach Loop road to see if anyone was following us. Nobody was and we made a full circle and came home around 3 am."
"When you came back was the van still there or gone," asked Rory.
"The parking lot was empty of both cars. We went home and locked the doors; or at least I did," said Junior.
"Continue your work routine and make yourself available if we need you. Don't leave town," Rory said. "I don't suppose you have any idea what kind of car you saw?"
"No, it was very dark and we were scared as hell," Junior said.
"We'd like a DNA sample Junior," said Stacy. "You'd be volunteering it by your own free will."
"I'm game. Take what you need," said Junior.
Deep Sea Fishing
Gordon Yeast was waiting for Stacy at the police station. They found him relaxed and apparently very confident of his non-involvement in the homicide case. Stacy said, "Thanks for coming Gordon. Please follow me to our conference room."
After sitting down, Rory asked, "Gordon, we need to learn more about the drugs and porno operation of Glen the Weasel; as he's known by. Help us out here."
"Well, I'm not bashful. The Weasel had a rate for different methods of sex. The biggest payoff, a 1/4 ounce of wiff, if you agreed to take it up the backside. The smallest was a handjob where each person received a gram. One thing about him he was clever to never have on his person any drugs; only his smart phone. He'd pass the drugs off using a restroom. As he was the janitor, he had access to the paper towel holder and toilet paper."
Murder Mysteries Page 10
