Part 1
Part 2

Case 30 - The Neighborhood Part 3


    It was still raining lightly at the end of a heavy rainstorm when Keiko went to a parking garage that was specifically selected by Ron Clancy as the perfect stakeout location.  It was directly across the street from a car dealer - one that expected to have a truck show up at some point during the afternoon to transfer cars to another dealer.

    What really made Keiko curious about this case was that cars are hardly ever transferred individually.  There were usually several loaded onto a truck.  They would drive the cars to another dealer, usually not far from the first.  But sometimes, somehow, one car would disappear from the truck in-transit.

    That could only mean that either the truck would stop somewhere, unload a few cars rapidly, and then reload them minus one, or the truck drivers were in on the scam and would know which car onto the end of the truck so it can be removed quickly somewhere along the route.

    Being in a parking garage across the street was helpful because Keiko could park on the second level, and from a bird’s eye view, watch the truck load up when it arrived, without anyone seeing that she was there.  And it was more comfortable than the alternative, which was to park in a lot nearby facing away to avoid suspicion, and crouch in the back seat to watch through the rear window.

    And because nobody would be around to see her sneak into the office building next to the garage for bathroom breaks, or to get snacks or drinks.

    After one such break, she was munching on corn chips and a bottle of iced tea when the transport truck arrived.  She sat up suddenly and picked up binoculars she had on the passenger seat, to watch more closely.

    The transport loaded up seven cars, one at a time.  It wasn’t terribly entertaining to watch, but it was essential - Keiko had to make sure that one of the cars wasn’t treated differently from the others.  She also had to note which ones were placed at the rear of the transport, since those would be the most likely suspects for possible diversion.

    Eventually it was clear that the transport driver had finished loading, and was locking everything down and getting ready to leave.  That was Keiko’s cue to start up her car and drive to the lower level, so she could follow the truck.

    The rain was picking up again, which made following the truck a little easier.  The driver would be too focused on the weather and traffic to worry about a small sport coupe a few car lengths back.

    Keiko’s heart was racing as she followed the truck.  Excitement and danger, she could handle easily.  It was anticipation, waiting for something that may or may not happen, that made her nervous.  She tried to relax as much as she could by controlling her breathing, but even that had its limits.

    Her emotional state steadied as the moment she waited for finally looked like it might come.  Years of practice led her to be able to fully relax, yet remain completely alert, in times of danger.  The truck had pulled into a parking lot that was empty except for a single flatbed tow truck.

    As anticipated, the last car on the transport truck was unloaded, and transferred quickly to the tow truck.  Quickly, because if the transport ran too late too often, it would be suspicious.

    Keiko waited until the transport drove away, and she began following the tow truck.  This time she was following it closely, because she had a plan.

    Just as she guessed, the tow truck driver was in no hurry to get to his destination.  Just as he parked his rig for a moment in front of a convenience store, Keiko left her car safely parked and locked nearby, and approached the rig.

    She opened the driver’s side door and slipped inside.  The cab of the rig was slightly filthy, and built more like a big-rig truck than a car.  She would have some difficulty learning to drive it...but she would have to learn fast...

    ...because the driver just exited the convenience store with coffee and donuts.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Hey!”  he yelled as Keiko found the reverse gear and backed up quickly.  

    She ended up slamming the rear of the bed into a pole which held up the awning over the gas pumps.

    Then she threw it into first gear and stomped the gas, turning it hard.  She narrowly missed the driver and the convenience store building as she quickly pulled onto the street.

    Second gear was easy after that, and by that time she was easily outrunning the angry driver.  She noted that his cell phone was sitting on the passenger seat, so at least he couldn’t call his criminal friends for help.  He would find a way to contact them eventually though, so she had to think fast.  And he wouldn’t be stupid enough to call the cops, or he’d have to explain why there was a stolen car on the back and instructions in the cab.

    Yes, there was paperwork.  She breathed a sigh of relief as she spotted a clipboard with printed delivery instructions attached.  That’s all she needed as evidence.

    Or it was, right up until a patrol car pulled up behind her and flicked on its emergency lights.  The one thing Keiko hadn’t counted on was a diligent clerk at the convenience store.  She sighed and pulled over.


---


    Ã¢â‚¬Å“You know this one?”  an uniformed Garden City Police officer announced    as he pushed open the door to Sean Morrison’s office downtown.

    Sean looked up from his paperwork.  The officer was holding his friend Keiko by the arm.  She was silent, and looked defenseless and defeated.  He smiled, because he knew she did that purposely to gain more gentle treatment from the officer.  She wasn’t even wearing handcuffs.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Funny thing.”  the officer summarized, “She was driving a stolen tow truck.  Only it was stolen before she stole it.  A car from a local dealer was on the bed.  It was scheduled for a delivery but never arrived.  She says it’s because she’s a private detective working on a case.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“She is.”  Sean confirmed.  He then added a small but clever lie, “I’ve been helping her with it.”

    Keiko didn’t say a word.  Once she was let go, she simply moved over to Sean’s desk and sat in one of the desk chairs quietly.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well you’re a detective, so technically this is your case.”  the officer said dismissively as he tossed the associated police report onto Sean’s desk.  “She’s your problem now.”  He then stepped outside the office and shut the door.

    As the door was closing, Sean yelled after him in an exaggerated tone, “Thanks a lot, Frank.”

    There was a moment of silence while Keiko made sure Sean had nothing to say.  “Where’s your partner?”  she finally asked.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“He’s getting coffee.”  Sean told her.  “So you got busted trying to break a theft ring?”

    She couldn’t help but smile slightly.  “I suppose.”  she replied.  “It will only help me in the long run, though.  I needed the paperwork more than I needed the car or tow truck.”

    Sean raised an eyebrow as he read the report.  “Hmm.”  he said.  “So the tow truck was already stolen.  The driver you took it from left the convenience store in a hurry after the clerk called the police.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I suppose that means I’ll be charged with receiving stolen property.”  Keiko guessed with a sigh.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“No, not necessarily.”  Sean replied.  “You are a licensed private detective.  A charge like that won’t stick because you were working on a theft case.  You could have been recovering stolen property.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I was.”  Keiko agreed.  “The car on the back was stolen property.  I didn’t think the tow truck was too.”

    Then there was only silence as Sean and Keiko stared at each other across the desk.  Finally, Sean said, “I’ve missed you, Keiko.  We’ve both been so busy.”

    Keiko looked around at first, making sure nobody was watching.  She then stood, leaned over the desk, and hugged Sean quickly as she smiled.  She touched her forehead to his.  “After this case is done we should do something fun together.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yeah.”  Sean replied.  “It’s a promise.”


---


    The paperwork Keiko found turned out to be shipping orders.  They were designed to be delivered to an international shipping yard along with a car, so that it could be sent overseas and look legitimate at quick glance.  The forms had vehicle identification numbers, a dealer it was supposedly sold from, and the name of the international shipper.

    Going after the shipper would be useless - it was likely innocent in a deal like this.  The orders for the cars were placed overseas, and filled locally.  The shipper was just paid to get it from one place to another.  Still, it was Sean’s job to notify the shipper through the police so they wouldn’t accept the stolen cars for shipment any longer.

    With that part taken care of, the thieves would be up against a brick wall.  Half filled orders, already stolen cars with nowhere to go.  Orders that need filling but can’t be.

    Keiko would offer them a way out...and it would be a trap that they couldn’t resist.

    She arrived at the address of the shipping yard.  It was a riverfront water shipping center combined with a rail shipping center, essentially switching shipments between road, water, and rail.

    There would no doubt be someone there to make sure the transfer went off without a hitch - there was money at stake, after all.  Just as she anticipated, there was a tall man in an expensive dark blue suit, loitering next to the loading dock and smoking a cigar.  He quite obviously didn’t fit in among the dock workers in rumpled work uniforms and orange vests.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Your delivery has been intercepted.”  Keiko informed him calmly as she approached him from behind.

    The suited man wheeled around, his hand inside his jacket.  Keiko didn’t even flinch - she expected him to be armed.  Fortunately that was an asset, she would have seemed a lot less professional if she did.  It also made Keiko sure of his identity - an executive of the shipping company would have been unarmed, and looked confused.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Who intercepted it?”  he asked.  He had a New York accent and sounded arrogant.  “You?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“The police.”  Keiko replied calmly.  This was one of those times when honesty worked just fine.  “They got me too, but they couldn’t make any charges stick.”

    The man looked down at Keiko, like he believed himself superior.  “I don’t remember you being one of my drivers.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I’m not.”  Keiko replied with a sly smile.

    He drew his gun then, but it never made its way out of his jacket.  Keiko chopped his neck quickly and violently, and he stumbled backward, gasping.  She used the interruption to confiscate his gun in one smooth motion.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“The police are on their way.”  Keiko whispered to him as she slowly moved closer, as he fell back against a stack of crates.  “You won’t be conscious when they arrive.”

    The last thing he remembered was Keiko hitting him on the back of the head with the gun.  The next thing Keiko saw were two men carrying machine guns.  She didn’t wait until they saw her...she began running full speed back to her car.

    Keiko heard yelling and gunfire.  She felt fortunate that they had such bad aim.  She stopped momentarily to return fire with the stolen gun, to keep them hiding from her so she could make it to her car.

    She climbed in and threw the car into reverse.  As soon as she started backing up something hit the windshield, like multiple high speed rocks, very hard, leaving tiny punctures.  Her heard raced and she pushed the accelerator further.

    The last thing she remembered was a loud bang, and the sensation of being thrown backward against the seat.


TO BE CONTINUED
    


-- Story written and copyrighted (C) 2008 by Jason Froikin, and may not be 
--    reprinted without permission.  
-- World Class and all characters therein are property of 
--    Strike Two and Jason Froikin.