“Definitely,” I said.
“Oh, by the way, I got a message from our gang unit-they’ve assigned us the guy they say is most plugged into the north side. They asked me to set something up with you guys. He’s free to meet with you tomorrow.”
“Great,” I said. “We can make any time tomorrow work. Just let us know.”
“I’ll send you a text,” she said.
“Good. Thanks for setting things up for us.”
By 11:45 a.m., all four vehicles were in position. I was parked in the Bryant Playground parking lot-the same lot where the Winnebago had been parked over the weekend. Only I wasn’t driving the Winnebago. I wasn’t driving my red Jeep, either-the consensus of the Logan PI staff being that it stood out too much (an opinion that was hard to dispute). I didn’t set out to make the Jeep conspicuous-I just wanted it to be a pretty decent off-road vehicle, but by the time I’d lifted the body a couple of inches to accommodate the tall wheels and thirty-one-inch tires, well, I have to admit, it wasn’t easy to hide anymore. So I drove the dark green van with
When properly executed, the rolling box method of vehicle surveillance doesn’t give the subject an opportunity to ID a tail, because the tail is constantly changing. One of the vehicles-usually the closest, is the “prime” vehicle and has command. That vehicle directs all the others. The prime vehicle might not be behind the subject, it might actually be in front with additional vehicles staged on parallel side roads in case the subject turns off. The command changes constantly as the team members take turns rotating into the prime position, never staying long enough to arouse suspicion. Good communication between all vehicles is essential, as is proper staging and placement of vehicles around the subject.
We started by staging Toni across the street in a supermarket parking lot. If Martin turned to go south on Sixty-Fifth, I’d follow him as command vehicle, and Toni would follow me as backup. Doc was further west on Sixty-Fifth. He’d take off as I approached. When we got in range, I’d pull off and allow him to become the command vehicle while he was still in front of Martin. Toni would continue to stay well behind as backup. Meanwhile, Kenny was about a half mile south on Fortieth in case Martin decided to head off in that direction.
At 12:15 p.m., pretty much right on schedule, I saw the door to the house open, and Crystal stepped out, followed a moment later by Martin.
“Showtime, guys,” I said into the headset. I watched as they got into the car and pulled north. As soon as he put his left turn blinker on, indicating he was turning west on Sixty-Fifth, I was immediately relieved-Martin was following his pattern. I said, “He’s turning westbound on Sixty-Fifth. Kenny-start making your way westbound.”
I followed him westbound on Sixty-Fifth for a mile, with Toni behind me by about one hundred yards. Kenny was about five blocks south of us, paralleling our direction of travel. When we approached Doc, I pulled off, and Doc became the command vehicle. Toni continued to trail.
Martin continued westbound for another mile, and then Doc said, “He’s turning south. Looks like he’s turning on Brooklyn. I’m already past.”
I was just about to reach Brooklyn.
“Kenny,” Doc called. “Are you at Brooklyn yet?”
“Negative.”
“Then just pull up on Fifty-Fifth and stop short of Brooklyn,” Doc said. “Don’t cross. Cover us in case he keeps heading south.”
“Roger,” Kenny said.
“Toni, are you going to follow him down Brooklyn?”
“Yeah. It’s a tight street, though-I’m going to hang back a bit.”
“Okay,” I said. “Toni, you’ve got command.” I was looking at the portable Garmin GPS suction-cupped to the dash.
A few seconds later, Toni said, “He’s slowing down. He’s parking along the curb at a house across from the park. I’m going to slow down and then turn east here on Sixty-Second before I get there.”
“Okay, they’re getting out,” she said a second later.
“Kenny,” she called out. “Turn north on Brooklyn. Come up slow and do a drive-by and grab the address. The beemer is parked right in front of the house they went in.”
“Roger,” Kenny said.
“I’m making my turn onto Sixty-Second eastbound,” Toni said. “Kenny, you have the command.”
“Roger.” Kenny loves the military lingo.
“Do it slow but not stupid,” I said.
“Got it,” he said. “I’m just going to call it out. One of you guys can write it down.”
“Good.”
A few seconds later, Kenny started counting the numbers. “6131. . 6135. . 6139. . 6143. . it’s 6147! 6147 Brooklyn.”
“See anyone outside?” I asked.
“Nobody,” he said.
“Good. Keep driving. Toni, can you make a U-turn and sneak back up to keep an eye on the house?”
“Yeah. I’m already on it. I’ll call you when I’m in position.”
Was this the boys’ house or the girls’? I didn’t know, but at least we now had an address. We could stake it out later and try to decide who actually lived there. Meanwhile, I redeployed all the vehicles in preparation for when Martin moved out again. Toni reported from her vantage point that four cars had arrived over the next twenty minutes. Each car was driven by a young black male. Using her binoculars, Toni was able to report that all of the drivers appeared to be in their early twenties. She took license numbers for all of them. Two of the drivers were accompanied by young white girls, neither of whom looked anything like Isabel. We waited. Forty-five minutes later, Toni said, “Here comes Martin and Crystal,” followed a minute later by, “They’re getting in. Doc-you ready?”
“I’m rolling,” he said. Doc was going to take over as command vehicle, this time from behind. We figured that since Martin hadn’t seen Doc’s vehicle in a trail position, it might be our best bet. Toni was going to be backup again, and Kenny was back down on Fifty-Fifth-this time, pointed east.
“They’re heading south,” Toni said.
“I got ’em,” Doc said. “I’ve got command. Just driving past the house. No other apparent activity.”
Martin drove south until he reached Fifty-Fifth, where he turned eastbound. We followed him for another two miles as he worked his way south and east, deeper into the U-District.
“He’s stopped on Nineteenth,” Doc said. “They’re getting out.”
“Can you break off?” I asked.
“Yeah. I’ll just keep going straight here.”
“Okay,” I said. “Don’t go down Nineteenth. I’m fifteen seconds away,” I said. “He hasn’t seen me in profile yet. I’m going to make the turn on Nineteenth and check it out.” We were running out of vehicles that hadn’t already been in prime position.
I turned south onto Nineteenth off of Fifty-Fifth. Immediately, I could see the white BMW parked alongside the curb, four houses down from Fifty-Fifth. The car looked empty.
“He’s parked at a house down the street. Looks like they’ve gone inside,” I reported.
The street was heavily tree-lined, making it hard to see the address. I slowed down before the house-I didn’t want to change speeds in front of it. As I approached, I looked for the address on the mailbox. Finally, just as I reached the house, I saw the box. The address was pasted to the side in inexpensive foil letters. “5387 Nineteenth,” I said. “5-3-8-7.”
“Got it,” Toni said.
“Nobody visible. House looks like a frat house. Big brick sucker-big porch. I’m going on past.”
I drove to the end of the block and stopped. I could see Doc parked around the corner.
“Think the other house was the boys’ house and this one is the girls’ house?” Doc asked over the radio.
“Maybe. Is there a place for me to pull in and park on the curb north of the house, someplace where I could still get a view?”
“I don’t know,” Doc said.
“Hey, guys,” Kenny said. “I’m up here at the top of the street. How about if I make a U-turn and come back
