C.: Now that I’ve given d.c. the information he asked for, I can relax and read. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, chapter ten of ‘ The Magruder Mysteries’ Murder 8; The Inert Ingredient.’ I wonder if this is the chapter where Alice dies?
CHAPTER TEN; THE SOUTH AMERICAN CONNECTION (CALL ME ‘AL’)
The next night Alice did not wait for Magruder to offer to continue the story. She was too interested in it to wait for the offer. “Did you take down the cartel you were involved in? And how did that cartel get started? You said that it was a fairly new one, but rose to power quickly. My question is ‘How?’”
Jay stretched and thought for a few minutes. If he was going to tell Alice the WHOLE story, he would need to start at the beginning. “It was the late 1970’s when the Leal Cartel began….”
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“Javier Leal was a hardworking longshoreman on the Houston Ship Channel when a distant relative called him from his home in South America. Javier provided well for his family. His job paid a decent wage, and he was careful with his money. He had little reason to seek out new ways to make money. However, there were relatives of his that were not doing as well as Javier. They all wanted him to help them in their new country.
One called the distant cousin and told him about Javier’s job unloading ships at the ship channel. It was the perfect opportunity to make a large amount of money while expending little effort, the relative said. Relatives in both countries would benefit immensely. The problem was, they needed someone to unload precious cargo without being noticed. Javier was the person who had the best job to accomplish this...”
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“Your cousin called from South America while you were at work,” stated Gabriella, Javier’s wife of twenty years. “He said that it was important for you to call him back after you got home from work, no matter what time it was. I left the phone number by the phone. He said to call him collect. He would pay for the phone call.”
Javier looked at the number. It had a Colombian area code. It was from someone whose name he did not recognize. He dialed the number anyway. Family, even distant relatives, were important to Javier Leal. The phone was answered on the first ring.
“Hola!” A cheery voice said, enthusiastically.
“Buenas Noches,” Javier was hesitant. He did not know what the strange voice would ask him to do. He quickly found out.
“I know you are in America, so I assume you speak English. I will speak that language to you. My family will not understand me that way, so it is better this way.”
“My name is not important. Just call me ‘Al.’ What IS important is that you keep my phone number and listen to the information I am going to give you.”
Javier listened intently as the voice only known as “Al” cautioned him not to breathe a word of what he was saying to anyone, even his wife. The voice said that poppy plants grew wild in Colombia, and they were easy to harvest. In their pure form, it was not hard to export them from his native country at the present time. He had connections in the shipping regulatory agencies in Colombia who would “overlook” certain things if paid enough money.
It WAS illegal, and risky, however, to export them and import them into the United States, and much more difficult to get the drugs into the country. It would be easier to do, though, “Al” said, if the plants had not yet been processed. He had a friend who could make fake certificates to take popivar seniform out of Colombia. This friend would certify that the plants were strictly for ornamental use.
“Al” said that he knew a very smart doctor who could turn the poppy seeds into powerful narcotics if he had someone to unload the cargo without being noticed. The cargo would be marked with a red dot on the bottom of the box, so it would not look TOO suspicious. All Javier must do, “Al” stated, was to declare the cargo to be defective. It would then be put in the discard pile.
“Al” had a relative who worked for the same shipping company for which Javier worked. He would pick the boxes up and pretend to take them to be destroyed. Instead, though, he would load them into the back of his pickup and take them to the brilliant doctor/chemist and have the cargo processed into powerful narcotics. It would benefit everyone involved, “Al” said. The only thing that must be avoided was an inspection by the DEA.
“Al” said that his relative was familiar with the schedule of the DEA’s inspections, so it was practically a risk-free way to make a large amount of money. Javier would know when a shipment was coming, the voice stated, because he would receive a collect phone call from South America, which he should refuse. The voice further informed him that his coworker knew where he lived, as well as the habits of Javier, his wife, and three sons. If Javier refused his request, his family may meet with a series of “unfortunate accidents.” If he complied, he would be richly rewarded, since his cut would be one-quarter of the profits.
“Now,” said “Al,” “Yell something in Spanish at me, slam down the phone, and tell your wife to NEVER accept a collect call from this number. Tell her that IF I call, you should be notified immediately, even if you are at work.”
Javier did as he was told. He loved his family too much to risk their lives for his principles.
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