The Innocents, Nathan Senthil [best life changing books .TXT] 📗

“Yes. And if we have his latent print recovered from either the casings or the slugs, we could search for it in NCIC.”

“But we don’t,” Raymond said. “They always wipe their cartridges clean and wear gloves when they fill their clips.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Forgetting wishful thinking, returning to topic,” Raymond sternly said. “Lolly comes out after serving his sentence. His gang, who was using shitty vehicles in their jobs until then, starts to use top end cars? Could be Lolly made a new friend. Prison contact?”

“Bingo!” Joshua chirped.

“A professional carjacker.”

“Yes.” Joshua walked out of the room, to the kitchen. “From 1987 till last week, a robbery in Chicago, they used a total of nine getaway vehicles. I visited the places where these cars were stolen and conducted my own investigations.”

“By yourself?”

“The FBI didn’t think I had a lead and refused to help me.”

“So all the annual leave you made me approve for your ‘marriage counseling’ was just me getting my anus bigger, uh?”

Joshua laughed. “I wouldn’t put it in so many words, but yeah.”

“Let me remind you to whoop your ass when you come to the precinct,” Raymond grumbled. “Anyway, tell me, did you solve those cases?”

“Not officially. I got no evidence.”

“But you found out who stole those cars?”

“I did. With the help of our brothers in blue.” As Joshua approached the fridge to get some water, he spotted a note stuck on its door. “Excuse me,” he said into the phone and read the note.

His wife’s attractive cursive reminded him that her parents would be joining them for Thanksgiving dinner, and he should not forget it.

After filling his stomach with half a pitcher of cool water, he ambled to the couch in the living room and plunked himself on it.

“Hello?”

“Still here,” Raymond said.

“Alright. Sorry about that.” Joshua burped. “So those nine cars were stolen from different cities, by various unrelated professional carjackers, controlled by various unrelated auto theft rings. Nine cars, nine rings. But the respective PDs had info on them.”

“They gave you the names of the gang leaders?”

“And I spoke to them.”

“And they told you to fuck off.”

“They told me to fuck off, yes.”

“But you didn’t.”

“But I didn’t, no. Instead I spoke to the snitches and low-level assholes who needed a quick buck. I mean, I’m not asking them to testify or anything. I just needed a name, a common denominator, who bought nine cars from these nine rings.”

“But why? Why can’t the gangs sell the cars themselves? Why do they need him? What’s linking them all?”

“Greed. That’s the link.”

“I don’t get it.”

“These nine cars were stolen from three states: Tennessee, Missouri, and Kentucky.”

Raymond didn’t speak for a few seconds, possibly his brain recovering from the sudden apparent change of conversation. “That supposed to mean something?”

“They’re landlocked.”

“I am still lost.”

“You remember the time when the Mafia used to export cars to Arab countries.”

“Oh…” Raymond said. “From Jersey and New York?”

“Yes. The Auto Theft gangs in these three landlocked states stand to make a lot of money if they sell it to a middleman who later exports the stolen cars to foreign lands.”

“They are reasonable discoveries. Where did it all lead you to?”

“Every scum I spoke to—snitches, gang members, thieves—repeated only one name. And according to the criminal records of the leaders of these nine rings, under the Known Acquaintances sub-divisions, the same name was repeated again.”

“The middleman. The common denominator.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Who is it?”

“Jake Caridi. A chop shop runner.”

“Let me guess. He also exports scraps?”

Joshua chuckled. “He exports scraps to the Eastern hemisphere.”

“I don’t think any of this is coincidence, but are you sure it’s him who supplies the wheels to Lolly?”

“I am because he was serving a three-year sentence in the eighties. Care to guess when?”

“Any period that includes 85-87?”

“Right you are. The same timeframe when I believe Lolly was in prison.”

“It all makes sense in a strange way. My mind is now just one soup of random information.” Raymond whistled. “You did a lot of work. Alone.”

“It’s worth it. Numerous family members of the victims can finally get closure and see that justice gets done.”

“Definitely worth it, if everything goes to plan,” Raymond said. “When are you visiting Jake?”

“Gonna have to do some backgrounds.”

“Like what? His cellmates?”

“Already did. Jake had three bunkmates during his stretch in West Virginia, but none of them is Lolly. They are all white.”

“Shit.”

“As you know, apart from the witnesses swearing by the conjecture that the robbers spoke with a slight Ebonics dialect, the surviving cashiers reported they saw through the eyeholes in the mask and Lolly was black. With blue eyes.”

“That’s correct. Then what else are you checking for?”

“Don’t know but I need to find some dirt on Jake. Then threaten him and make him believe that he has to give up the name of his friend who’s been buying cars from him.”

“Those Mafia types don’t rat much.”

“Italians are only interested in killing a snitch and stuffing a canary down his throat if it affects other Italians.”

“What are you gonna threaten him with?”

“Jake recently had a baby. I’m gonna tell him that I will have my friend in Child Protective Services take the baby away, what with Jake having a mile-long rap sheet and all.”

“You won’t do it.” Raymond chuckled.

“I won’t. It’s a bluff. I’m gonna act all desperate and angry and—”

“Act?”

“I’m gonna give him what will seem like an ultimatum. Give up his friend or his child.”

“What if he calls Lolly and warns him—”

“Looking forward to that.”

“What? Why?”

“Already tapped his phone. He makes a call, we don’t just have Lolly’s identity, but also his address.”

“The FBI tapped his phone?”

Joshua murmured, “I didn’t