Chapter 25

My alarm went off at 5, so we both got dressed and I made breakfast as she put on her makeup and did her hair. Becky looked great, with her hair in a simple ponytail. After eating, this time she just laid down across the front seat when I pulled out and sat up once we were on the freeway a few minutes later.

We got caught in morning traffic of course but were at the Post Office by just after 8. And then, well I should have expected more. We had made several copies of the paperwork, and when we handed them one they kind of acted like it was not a big deal. They questioned both of us and kind of treated it like it was a simple fraud case. Which I guess it was, but Becky was acting scared to death.

Finally, they more or less dismissed us, and we went out, Becky looking frustrated. Once in the car, I used my mobile phone and called the lawyer that George had told us about, and he thanked me for calling. He asked me for an update, and I said that the Postmaster Inspector’s office seemed to not take it very seriously, and treated it like a standard fraud case.

“Yea, that means that in six months they might actually do something. I will admit they are good and thorough, but their speed is about like the rest of the Postal Service. OK, do you know where Parker Center is?” My mind flashed back to all the Dragnet shows I had seen over the years, and I said I had never been there but was familiar with City Hall. “OK, good enough, There is a parking lot about three blocks away, what does your car look like?” I described the Isuzu to him and he said he told me what parking lot to use and that he would meet us there in 30 minutes.

Well, when we pulled in a young-looking guy around our age came up and had his hand extended. “Hi, I’m Nick Redding, nice to meet you both. My office is around the corner, let’s go over there.” It was in a rather generic office building, and looked like one Sam Spade might have worked out of. He then sat down and sighed.

“OK, I already talked to George, and he agrees that the need to keep you out of the loop is over now Pete. But first, I want a statement from you about everything you know up to this point.” He then laughed as I smiled at Becky, and she handed over the ones we had both made the day before. He read through mine, and she smiled and handed over her statement also. “Oh, this is excellent. One moment, let me call somebody over.” A few minutes later a guy came in, together they filled out and signed a form, and he smiled and left. “There, this is just to affirm I got these before I disclose anything. But in short, what you think is probably right.”

He took a deep breath and sighed. “The facts as we know them so far is that the DBA was filed in July of this year, and your name is nowhere in the filing papers Mr. Culver. The only name on the filing with the County Clerk is a Mr. Arturo Cristobal. In addition, the bank that the checks were deposited in is the branch he works at. Now I have a friend in the DA office, I think I can get her to move fast, but I have to ask you first Ms. Maldonado, do you have an honest fear for your life or safety?”

“Yes, yes I do. I have been, intimate with Mr. Cristobal, and he can have a big temper. He is also very driven, and I think he might lash out at anything or anybody that might threaten his rise as he sees it. And he has some friends that frankly scare me to death now that I am learning more. He has keys to my house, and knows the alarm code as well.”

“OK, we will go talk to my friend in a few minutes. But in short, we are looking at a string of fairly minor but substantial felonies here. The mail fraud can be the worst, but we have a great many lesser ones that I expect will see him in jail for three to five years at least. Ms. Maldonado, I want you to swear out a statement to the effect that you are in fear and do not want any contact with Mr. Cristobal, and then we are going to talk to my friend. I am going to see if we can push this faster, and swear out a restraining order. What is your cover for the moment? Do you have a safe place to stay?”

“My assistant Mike is running things in my absence. He is aware of this, and Pete and I both trust him completely. The story is that my uncle in Mexico is in the hospital, and I am down there for about a week.”

“OK, that is Mr. Michael Kwan, good. Yes, we will keep that up. Here, let’s go take a walk.”

Soon we were waiting outside the DA’s office, and a secretary had us follow her inside to the main office. It looked like almost any Admin section at a Division level unit in the Marines. Lots of desks with computers and people typing away on them. But we were shown to a small office and met Janice Smith, a middle-aged but harried-looking gal. She listened to our stories as Nick told her everything, and read through the files. Then she smiled and nodded. Then asked what we wanted.

Nick laid it all out for her, Becky was safe at the moment but feared going home. She got on the phone and asked for somebody to come to see her. She was writing notes as she interviewed both of us more in-depth. Becky had first met Mr. Cristobal when he helped her open a bank account, and he came into her shop a week later. They started dating that weekend, which was in August. She asked me if I had ever met him, and I said not formally, but I had seen him in August at a presentation I did.

She was pumping Becky for more information when two detectives came in. They were in regular clothes, but something about their body language screamed “Cops”. We then went through most of the details again, and Nick said we already had an idea.

“We will have Ms. Maldonado call her assistant Mr. Kwan, and tell him she had forgotten to send some updated checks for the accounts. We both suspect that one of the other employees is also involved, and we have that employee assist in making and sending these checks. We send it out, and then start surveillance on the PO Box that it is picked up from. At that point, there is sufficient evidence to arrest Mr. Cristobal, or we can see when he deposits the money can get him then. At a minimum at that point is fraud, forgery, mail fraud, and embezzlement. You all can pick him up, she can submit the restraining order while he is in custody, and then start the bank’s team digging into any other similar activities he has been doing.”

Ms. Smith thought that sounded workable, and so did the detectives. “A bit faster than we like to work, but you say you are afraid Ms. Maldonado?”

“Yes, Art has a gun collection, and he can be violent. He has never hit me, but he has yelled at me and threatened anything he thought would stand in his way. He also has some ties to some radical elements in the Chicano community.”

“OK, one moment.” The female detective then pulled out a small tape recorder, and in an almost bored but professional voice gave the time, date, where we were, and who was present in the room. She then gave a brief synopsis of the facts as she understood them, then asked Becky if they had permission to record her voice and monitor her movements as part of this investigation. Becky gave her full name and affirmed this permission. The detective smiled and turned the recorder off. “Janice, can you give her the form as I set this up please?”

Becky signed the form handed to her, then I handed Becky my phone. The detective changed tapes and made a similar statement, then attached a microphone to the back and Becky called her store. She talked to somebody, and read off several names and amounts, and said she had some checks she forgot to send off. “So please tell Mike to get these off ASAP, they might want that money in time for Christmas. OK, thanks doll, see ya. No, my uncle is stable, but they are still worried about some internal bleeding. Maybe the end of the week I hope. Thanks, bye.”

The detectives then asked her if she had recognized the voice, and she said she had. And identified it as Jean Danner, one of her employees. They closed that tape out and smiled. “Now this will take a few days at least. But we will have that post office staked out, we have a friend in the Postal Service who can inform us when that box is accessed. They also give us unofficial access to the lobby video feed, so we will know who picks it up. If I guess, the check will be in the hands of this Mr. Cristobal tomorrow, put in the bank that day or the next, and on Friday we can pick him up. Is there anybody else you suspect?”

“Yes, Miss Jean Danner. She is his cousin, and I went to his bank because she recommended him to me. Mr. Culver and I were in a relationship for two years, and when that ended I decided to create new accounts. Not because I did not trust him, but because I wanted a clean start.”

All three of them looked at us, and we could tell they had questions. “Becky, Ms. Maldonado and I did not break up because of a fight, or anything like that. We both want family, and we decided that we ultimately were not the right match for each other. There was never animosity, and the end of our relationship was civil and fairly painless. We are still friends, and I would do anything I can to help her.” Becky nodded and kissed my cheek.

“When he and his attorney asked me if I knew a place I could be safe, Pete is the only place I could think of. I believe he would die before he let anybody hurt me.”

“Well, let’s do everything in our power to keep that from ever happening. And tell me everything you can about your other dealings with Mr. Cristobal.” And that turned out to be quite long, as she indeed had turned over most of her assets to his care as her financial advisor. I could see the DA and both cops look at each other, and the DA nodded. And they wrote down quite a few names of friends of his she had met. Some were even street names, and the detectives recognized some of them. The female cop asked her if this was a La Raza matter, and Becky nodded.

“I had no idea he was into that when we started dating. He acts like a macho guy, all about heritage and pride. But I was already starting to distance myself from him before Pete even came in because I could recognize that he actually believed that a revolution was coming.”

“Well, we are going to just treat this as a local case. But this could have larger investigations to follow. The Postmaster for sure, but this may also turn into an interstate wire fraud case, which means the FBI. Nick, fuck you, you sure brought me a lot of shit here today.” But Ms. Smith smiled as she said that, and the cops both laughed. They had Becky fill out several other forms, which included the right for them to access all phone records at her business and home. And they had my mobile phone number, and she said we should head home. But instead, I got on the freeway going South. “Pete, where are we going?”

“Becky, you did not tell me he had guns! Or his temper. Or links to gangs and maybe even revolutionaries. We are getting out of town until this is resolved. I was thinking of going to Long Beach somewhere, but I just had a better idea.” I got on the phone and called Julie. I told her that I had to leave town, and for her to handle everything while I was gone. She promised she would, and I hung up. “OK, now I am clear for the next week also.”

“But where are we going, Pete?”

“The most secure place we could go that I can think of. Camp Pendleton.”

She looked at me funny, and I laughed. “Becky, we check into the hotel there. It’s on a military base, that means people with guns at all the gates, and people with guns inside the gates. Art would have to realize you are with me. Remember, I am a Marine, he may or may not try to look for me on a military base. But I think that would be a challenge even for him. If he dared to try and get at us there, he would be a fucking idiot.”

“Oh yes, that it would. And trust me, he hates the military. He hates the US in fact. He honestly believes that California should be part of Mexico again.”

“Part of Mexico, that’s crazy!”

“It is, but he’s crazy about that. He and I were already drifting apart, and that was part of the reason. My grandparents hate him, Grandpa told me to never bring him again. He said he fought for this country, and our ancestors fought in the Bear Flag Revolt to leave Mexico. Art tried to act like we were all ‘Oppressed Mexicans’, not even seeing that those he was trying to preach to thought he was a fool. I started to see less of him after that, but not quick enough I guess.”

I had her hand me her ID, and soon we were driving through the base. We checked in at the Hostess House on mainside, and soon we were walking to the PX, a short walk away. Becky said this was more of what she expected from an exchange, and soon she had selected several items, including some more clothing, and I picked up a few items as well. I mentioned they had a pool and she might want to get a bikini, and she just stared at me. “In December? Not on your life buddy, nice try though.” She kissed my cheek, and we stopped at the 7 day store where I also grabbed a bottle of Scotch, and some wine coolers. We got back to the room, and soon we had everything put away. When she asked where we would eat, I told her we could eat anywhere on base.

“But at least here, you can walk around outside and not be in fear. You can walk to the exchange, or we could drive around the base, even go to the beach if you want. This is like a small private city, where we can hide out until you feel safe in going home.”

Becky nodded and sat next to me and curled up against me, resting her head on my shoulder and crying. I wrapped my arms around her and told her everything was going to be alright. She then told me how she got pulled in by Art. He was the true definition of “Macho”, even though he did not act it in front of others. Older, driven, but also domineering, and had a hatred for Anglos and those who he saw as invading his country. And Becky fell for that, seeing it mostly as drive, at least early on. But only in the last month or so began to chafe as he was trying to insist on giving him more control.

“Well, right now we have to just sit back and let him take the driver’s seat. You can’t tip him off, or he might just bail on this. Wait, call your grandparents, in case he tries to contact them.”

“Shit, you’re right.” She called her grandfather, and he said he would cover for her, saying it was her mother’s family and he barely knew them. She told him a bare minimum, just that she was hiding and was safe. She then laughed and said she was and hung up. “He asked me if I was with you, and I said I was. He said good, he likes you.”

I smiled and hugged her, and said I would always keep her safe, no matter what. She then kissed me softly and looked into my eyes. “Pete, I fucked up. I fucked up big time, and I have been regretting it for months now. Is there a chance for us?”

I sighed softly and shook my head. “Becky, I love you, I always will. As you see, I will do anything for you, anything. But, well, you hurt me. You hurt me bad. We both know it was communication, but I think I will always be afraid that someday in the future you may do the same thing all over again. Especially with my goals in the next 15 years or so.”

She was crying, but then looked and asked me what goals. I told her that shortly after the next century, I wanted to sell everything off in LA and move back to Idaho. She looked at me and shook her head. “But Pete, why Idaho? Why there? Back to Pocatello?”

I simply sighed. “See, this is part of it. You have confused business and progress there with happiness and contentment. I plan on building a small computer store on my property and work out of there. It will be slow, but on a nice day if I hear the fish are biting I can just hang a sign in the window and go fishing. Or go skiing. Or go to the lake and just spend the day on a boat. I do not need to work, but I like to work. That is the real difference.”

She nodded, but I could see she still did not get it. “Right now, I could sell my business, move to Idaho, and never work a day for the rest of my life. And my kids would never have to work a day of their lives. You said you saw me once like a Don, living in a hacienda and just living a life of ease. Well, I could literally do that tomorrow. I am not rich, but I am exceedingly comfortable. I only work because I like what I do. I love helping others, and helping them learn what all they can do with computers.”

I then explained the last few months, the office clusters I was doing, the pride in taking crap jobs done by others, and turning them into really professional setups. And in teaching others how to do the same thing. I then started to tell her about the Association I was in the process of creating. With the goal of getting similar people together to strive for excellence, and drive those like the “Bozo Brothers” out of business.

I then asked her about the computers she had, and she nodded. “Art, they came from a guy he knows that owns a shop in Tarzana. Another ‘Good Mexican’, who he said needed the business because you Anglos were trying to drive him out of business.”

“Anglo hell, but that’s beside the point. I bet they are crooks, and also try to jack people for as much money as they can. Did you really buy fifty of them?” She nodded and said that was what Art told her was the best price. “Yeah, it might have been, if you could move them fast enough. Notice, I never suggested more than fifteen, five each of three models. Then later five each of three colors, then finish assembly as needed. And by this time I would have been changing that to only three of those models, and three of the newer ones. Eighteen in total, but two different processors, the 386 is on the way out already. I bet by this time next year the 386 would be mostly dead except for budget systems, I would be encouraging you to not even replace them in another three months or so.”

“Yes, I’m already scared I’m going to lose my ass over that deal.”

“Well, when this is settled down, send half of them to me. I will have my guy paint the cases, and I will see what we can do to make them more appealing. Then sell them with a minimal mark-up, and take any reasonable offer. And give me ten, I can upgrade them to 486 systems, sell those for more. In fact, you can use those to help push the more affordable 386 systems.”

She nodded and said she wished she had a notepad. I laughed and held her tight, saying I would remind her if she forgot. She went to wash her face and got changed into some tight jeans and a blouse and we walked to the chow hall. She was amazed we could get all we wanted, for $1.35. I told her it was all they paid us for meals if we were married, and she laughed. It was dark already as we walked back, and she asked if we could go to one of the clubs.

So we got into the truck, and looking at a map I got at the gate we were soon at the Mainside NCO club. And inside, it was much like I had expected. A bunch of Corporals and Sergeants sitting around in various corners and at the bar, mostly drinking. We each got a drink, and she looked around and asked why it was so quiet.

“Well, this is the NCO club, it tends to be a lot more relaxed. More a place for us to go after work and have a drink and unwind with our peers. Here, after this, I will take you to the E-club, which is more all ranks. But it is Monday, so will still be quiet.

We finished our drinks and drove back to the hotel since the E-club was within walking distance and it was a nice evening. This time there was music playing, and a few people dancing out on the dance floor, but only a few dozen people there. This time we sat at a table, and she said this is more like she expected.

“Oh, this is a quiet night. I bet on a Friday and Saturday this place is packed.” She was also amazed when the waitress came up and delivered our drinks, and I handed her $10 and told her to keep the change. She smiled and gave a nodding bow and hurried off.

“Damn these drinks are cheap, how can they do this?”

“Becky, you are forgetting that this technically is government-owned, and non-profit. They pay no taxes on the booze, no taxes to the state, no rent, and is subsidized. They make a small profit, which goes to pay for wages of those that work here, updates, maintenance, things like that. Plus they see it as a good thing to keep the Marines here on base to drink. They are safer, and if they get drunk they can walk back to their barracks, or use the base taxi or shuttle service. They know Marines are gonna get drunk, better to keep them here and drunk on base, than out in town where they can get into real trouble.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. But what about girls? I don’t see many here, and they all seem taken.”

“Oh, come in on Friday or Saturday. They pretty much let any female in the gate, so long as she has an ID, is at least 18, and says she is coming here. Trust me, weekends this place will be packed. Quite a few just looking for a Marine to hook up with, while others are actually husband shopping. Clubs on the weekend are a real meat market.”

“Well, with prices like this I can understand why. A girl could come here, and her first drink would be cheap. Even if the rest of the night cost her nothing, that would have an appeal.” I chuckled and also said that a lot of the guys were also incredibly naive, which these gals often ate up.

“They told me about one gal when I got to Yuma. She is around 30 I guess, been married to three different Marines. She likes to get them young, fuck them silly until right before they deploy. Then marry then, and while they are gone take everything for themselves. Poor schmuck comes back six months or so later and is broke, big credit card bill, and stuck with the rent on a house for another six months. The General finally had her banned from the club, but she is still trying out in town. And I’m sure every base has a few like that.”

“That’s just sad. Anything like that ever happen to you?”

I shook my head. “Naw, mostly because when I got to Japan, I was taken. And few Japanese gals came on base to the club. After Linda, a few times I went to the clubs out in town, but those were basically business transactions. I buy them a drink for $5, they cuddle with me for about 10 minutes and pretend it is a date. And if I wanted I pay them around $25, and they would pretend it is the end of a date.” Becky crinkled her nose and giggled, and I forgot how much I missed seeing that. “And did you do those dates often?”

“Well, I won’t lie. Before things ended with Linda, never. A few times afterward, I will admit. I soon realized I preferred just going to a steam bath outside the gate if that is all I wanted. At least there, it seemed more honest, and the two gals I saw regularly at least pretended to enjoy being with me, and I got a nice massage out of it at the same time. And they did not pretend to be my girlfriend for an hour or so, then do it to the next guy that comes in with money an hour later.”

“Wow, that almost sounds kind of sad in a way. I know you had mentioned it before, but not quite like this.” I saw our drinks were empty so raised my hand and the waitress smiled when I held up my fingers.

“Well, in many ways it was. Let’s just say that sometimes, my hand was no longer enough and I just wanted to hold somebody, even if I was only renting her for 45 minutes or so. I knew that all I was mostly was money in her purse, but I do believe at least two of them saw me as at least a friend. Sometimes as we waited for a room to open up or afterward we would sit in the lounge area and just talk and have a drink. One of the gals I think was around 35, widowed, and not many skills. The other was around 25, was single, and had a kid. The younger one simply liked sex, and that was something she could do that she knew, and get paid for it.”

“So not quite like your ex then.”

“No, neither of them was trying to find a boyfriend, but some of the girls at the other bars were. At the steam bath, they were Japanese ladies. At the bars, most were from the Philippines. They came to work the bars, and many hoped to marry an American and be able to come here at the end. Notice our waitress? And most of the other ones? I bet they are all from the Philippines. Either met their husbands there, or on Okinawa. Most probably worked the bars there, and work as a waitress here because that is all they really know.”

I paid the waitress another $10 and thanked her softly in Japanese. She returned my thanks, but slightly haltingly. After she left, I nodded. “Philippines, her accent and how she responded. But I bet she spent enough time on Okinawa to pick up some of the language. In about a quarter of the bars there, the girls are also prostitutes, but at most they just strip and serve drinks. And what we call the ‘buy me drinkee’ girls. Those are $5 glasses of 7-Up, the guy pays in exchange for cuddling with her, and maybe playing with her boobies a bit. Some girls will offer ‘extra services’, but that depends on the bar and the girl. But many are just looking for money to send home, others for husbands to send them to the ‘Land of the big PX’. It is kinda sad though.”

“It sounds like it, and also for the guys I bet.”

I snorted. “Let me tell you about Lomelli. He was a kid on Okinawa with me. He fell in love with this girl that worked at a club outside of Kadena. He loved her so much, most of us think she got his cherry. Well, a few months later he puts in the paperwork so they could get married. She is a foreign national, overseas so that takes special permission from the military, State Department, and Immigration. Several of us tried to tell him he was making a mistake, we knew the club she worked at and what she did. She was not a ‘buy me drinkee’ girl, she was a whore.”

Becky was leaning closer, listening to this story and I smiled. “Well we all tried to tell him to not do it, but PFC Lomelli would not listen. Finally, one of the old crusty Sergeants from the motor pool came into our shop, and said that since he just got paid, when he got off work he was going to take the bus to Kadena, go out in town, have a few drinks, then he was going to fuck Lomelli’s fiancee. And you know what? That’s exactly what he did. Lomelli was sitting there with her, he walked up to the Mamasan and pointed at her, and 5 minutes later he was going to the hotel next door with his hand on her ass. I guess the only two good things is that he had a good time, and Lomelli finally got smart and called it off.”

Becky was giggling, and shaking her head. “That’s both awful, and funny at the same time. That really happened?”

“Oh yeah, I was told that most guys who had been there long enough saw something like that several times. Some 18 or 19 year old kid falls in love, does not want to admit she is a whore. ‘Oh, she’s only doing it for the money’ they often say. But rub their face in it, and most get smart. If you go out in town here, or Long Beach, or most Navy bases you will find a little enclave of Filipinos. Many spouses that had married people in the military, and their family which they then bring over here. Most marriages only last a few years. She will get her citizenship as quickly as she can, then bring over mom, dad, sister, brother, and all live off the husband until one or the other has enough. Oh, not all, but more than a few. I am not so cynical to deny that a great many do really love each other, and many stay together for life. But more often than not they end after a few years.”

“So they basically use each other.”

“Yep, he gets some tiny young thing and all the pussy he wants, she gets a sugar daddy and a key to bring her family over. I have heard that some even arrange it that way. He gets free use of her until she gets her citizenship, then she moves out and keeps the benefits of being a wife and he gets the money until he is ready to do it again. I have heard some guys have done that four or five times now. A kind of sex for citizenship program.”

“Wow, that’s just so cold.”

I nodded and asked if she was ready to go. Becky commented that all of the songs were fast, and not the kind she wanted to dance to with me. So we finished our drinks and walked back. “So tell me, is it the Marines that made you so jaded, or were you always a bit jaded, and the Marines just made it more so Peter?”

“Honestly, I do not see myself as jaded. I honestly do think and hope for the best from everybody. I never thought anything of you other than honest love, Becky. But remember, the girls that go from the Philippines to Okinawa are basically sex workers. They know at a minimum, they are going to be serving drinks at a bar and stripping. The rest, they know they are going to be paid more but are also going to be prostitutes. And I know there are articles that call it slavery, it is not. Most come for a year or so, then go home. Then a year later they are back. I was there long enough to see some girls return twice. They knew exactly what they were there for, and they got paid more than they did back home.”

“The same thing happens in Mexico. Families will send their daughters to the Frontera, especially the Zona Norte, for the same reason. Have you been to Tijuana much Pete?” I told her I only went twice, once for shopping with Linda, and once after we broke up.

“Well, you probably stayed on Avenida Revolución then, Zona Central. A few blocks away, that is Zona Norte. You saw the strip clubs, go a few blocks away, those are brothels. And paraditas, or ‘standing girls’, those stand on the streets. It’s rampant there, most are the daughters of poor farmers, they move there because they were either already sexually active, or their families could not afford for them to stay anymore. Most hope to find a husband before they are too old to work anymore.”