'You'd remember?'
'You bet I would. The code is strict when it comes to historic preservation. We're constantly battling owners who want the rules bent for old structures. We stay on top of those projects. Have to.'
'I believe the passageway to the basement may be concealed.'
'That sounds interesting,' Wadley said with a smile.
'I may do this inspection myself. If it's there, I'll find it. You still haven't told me what you're looking for.'
'Faulty wiring,' Kerney answered with a grin.
Wadley laughed.
'When do you want to meet?'
'The business opens at nine o'clock. I'll have a patrol officer standing by to assist you. He'll be fully briefed.'
'I'll be there with bells on.' kernhy checked with his personnel before going to talk to Andy. Two agents were keeping tabs on Bucky Watson. As soon as Watson had settled into his Rancho Caballo house for the night, one agent had taken up a position at the gated entrance road, while the second kept close surveillance on Watson's house with nightvision goggles. Watson hadn't moved.
At the art crating shop, a patrol officer watched the premises from a discreet distance. Everything was quiet.
Kerney briefed Andy on the scheme.
'How many men do you want to use?' Andy asked.
'Just three,' Kerney replied.
'Two agents stationed out of sight, and a uniformed officer to accompany Wadley into the premises.'
'Narcotics agents?' Andy asked.
'No. I don't want the slightest hint to crop up that we expected to find drugs.'
'This Wadley guy; he's willing to say the complaint was anonymous?'
'If everything goes right, he won't have to say anything.'
'But if he's called as a witness in court, we can kiss the case against Watson good-bye.'
'Do you have a better way to squeeze Bucky?'
'What about the money laundering angle?'
'Joe Valdez is working on it, but it could take time.'
'What if all you find in the basement is some drug residue?'
'My friend Mabel the pig assures me there's more than residue inside.
I'll set up a meeting with Watson, tell him I need to ask him about Amanda Talley, and time it to coincide with the building inspection at the shop. If all goes well, I'll arrest him as soon as the drugs are uncovered.'
'You have a lot of faith in Mabel.'
'She's got a great nose.'
Joe Valdez, looking decidedly rumpled and glassy eyed from his all-night stint at work, appeared in the doorway.
'Got a minute?' he asked.
'Sure, Joe,' Andy said.
'What have you got?'
'I've located the insurance agent who handles Bucky Watson's commercial accounts. He's faxing me a list of all the Matador holdings insured by his company.'
'Good work,' Kerney said.
Joe nodded his thanks.
'This agent also insures Bucky's Rancho Caballo homes. Just as a matter of interest, I asked him if he insured any other Rancho Caballo homeowners. He carries one other policy in the subdivision, for a client Bucky referred to him. It's a Mexican corporation called Tortuga International.'
'Tortuga?' Kerney said. The word meant 'turtle' in Spanish, and De Leon Juarez casino was called the Little Turtle.
'That's right,' Joe replied.
'Anyway, I asked a buddy who works at the corporation commission to go in early and do a search on Tortuga. It's a real estate holding company with an office in the southern part of the state. The CEO's name is Vicente Fuentes, aka Enrique De Leon 'Do you have an address for the property?' Kerney asked.
'I wrote everything down,' Valdez said, handing Kerney a piece of paper.
'That's damn good work, Joe,' Kerney said.
'I just asked the right question, Chief. By the way, Watson controls two corporations: Matador and Magia.
I'd like to follow up to see if there's any connection to Tortuga. It may take me a while.'
'Hit it as hard as you can,' Andy said, 'and keep Chief Kerney informed.'
'Okay,' Joe said as he cracked a tired smile and left the room.
Andy got out of his chair, walked to the front of the desk, and perched against it.
'I'm assuming you have everyone briefed and ready to go.'
'They're on station,' Kerney answered, unwinding from his chair. His knee felt stiff and cranky. He stretched it out to ease the muscles.
'Well, then, have at it,' Andy said as he plucked the piece of paper with De Leon Rancho Caballo address from Kerney's hand.
'I'll put a surveillance team on De Leon house.'
'Remember, De Leon got diplomatic immunity.'
'Yeah, but Vicente Fuentes doesn't. I'll think of a way to get us inside.'
'That would be nice.'
'Cut the sarcasm, Kerney.' senior Patrol Officer Clyde Pratt knew exactly who was inside the art crating shop. Using the onboard computer in his unit, he'd run a record check on the vehicles as soon as each of the two men drove up, parked, and went into the house.
It was amazing what could be learned from a license plate number these days. The registered owners were Skip Cornell and Kiko Segura, and his screen even displayed driver's license photos, which allowed Pratt to confirm their identities.
There were no wants, warrants, or rap sheets on either man, but that didn't mean shit.
A seventeen-year veteran of the force, Pratt had come to appreciate the new technology. It sometimes made it possible to know in advance whom you would be dealing with. Clyde thought that was fucking marvelous.
The more you knew, the less the danger, if you stayed prepared for the unexpected.
He released the thumb snap to his holster as he followed Morris Wadley up the stairs of the loading dock. Prom inside, Pratt could hear the harsh whine of a table saw.
Wadley went in first, carrying a clipboard. As soon as Skip and Kiko saw Pratt, they shut down the saw.
Interior walls in the back of the house had been removed to create an open workspace. Floor-to-ceiling racks along one wall held lumber, and there were various drills and machine tools on stands near the saw. A small office and an adjacent walk-in storage locker ran along another wall.
Pratt noticed a lot of hand tools on tables and workbenches.
Each could be used as a weapon.
'What's up. Officer?' Skip asked as he pulled off his ear protectors.
Clyde smiled and shrugged nonchalantly.
'Nothing to worry about.'
He closed in slowly, visually scanning the men for hidden weapons. Both wore blue jeans and T-shirts with no obvious bulges. Exactly as he'd been told to do, Wadley stepped off to one side and waited. Pratt stopped walking when he reached the angle he wanted between the two men. He glanced at the hammer on a table within Kiko's reach and stayed well out of striking range.
'We just need a few minutes of your time,' Clyde said.
'What for?' Skip demanded.
Kiko looked ready to bolt for the front door. Pratt put his hand on his holster and Kiko froze. It was time to move Kiko and Skip outside.
