Chapter 13: Jackpot

Beth left Darren in Chicago to return home to Norfolk three weeks after telling him she was pregnant. As soon as she left the house Darren began to fantasize about ways he was going to ruin Steve’s life. The bastard not only slept with Beth but also got her pregnant. He was going to pay.

Because he did not have a wife at home, Darren spent even more time in the office. When not working he starting making detailed plans in a dedicated notebook on what he would do to Steve if given the opportunity. When Darren got the call from Beth announcing the birth of the child he immediately called his boss and requested two weeks of vacation for a family emergency. No questions were asked and he was given his time away from the office.

Darren collects the stash of cash he accumulated the previous few months. When he started to stash it away he did not know if he would ever need it, but knew he wanted the option of having a slush fund handy for an emergency.

Darren packs a very light backpack with nothing but the barest essentials, sleeps for a few hours, and then gets on the road for the drive to Virginia well before the sun rises over the horizon. He is out of Illinois before he sees the first glimpse of daylight as he speeds eastward to Virginia.

As he drives, Darren thinks hard about many of the ideas in his notebook. He knows some of his plans are solid. Others are a bit vague and he concentrates on thinking about the details and what it will take to massage those elements into his master plan.

Other than gas, food, and bathroom breaks, Darren does not stop until he reaches the outskirts of Norfolk not far from the docks where he used to work. It is just before 2:00 AM when he finds a cheap, rundown motel and checks in under an alias. His goal is to get a few hours of sleep before starting his plan in the morning.

Darren is awoken by the alarm clock in the room at 7:30. He rises and showers quickly and is out of the room is less than 20 minutes. He remembers a nearby diner and heads there for breakfast. As he pulls in he sees that there is a payphone situated at the corner of the parking lot to be used while still in the car. Perfect.

Breakfast is large plate of eggs, sausage, bacon, and toast. Two cups of coffee and an orange juice complete the meal. Darren hopes it is good enough to keep him going all day without the need to stop for lunch.

Back in his car, Darren pulls up to the payphone. He takes a deep breath, then drops a coin in the slot and dials a number.

“Hello?” says a gruff voice.

“Good morning, Hugh, this is Darren Brimble.”

There is a short delay as Hugh registers a face to go with the name.

“Yeah, yeah, Brimble. I remember you. One of the guys brought in to handle the heavy workload a few years ago.”

“Correct,” says Darren. He continues, “Listen, I’m in shipping for a private company and I got a job application in front of me from Steven Nigel. Remember him?”

Hugh pauses again and he searches his memory. “Yeah,” he says slowly, “but I thought you two were tight? Had desks across the room from one another and went out for beers some weekends.”

Darren is shocked. The old goat Hugh didn’t miss much, and had a memory like an elephant. He decides to play it mostly straight.

“Yeah,” he said, “that’s the same Steve. But ... well, this is a bit delicate. Steve was never one to talk shop when we were away from our desks. On one or two occasions, though, he said something that made me think some of his product to be shipped never made it to the right port.”

Hugh laughs into the phone. “You just now figuring that out? Hell yeah, Steve was rerouting a ton of shit to his own pockets.”

Darren sucks in a breath. “He was?”

Hugh laughs again. He is really enjoying Darren’s naivete. “I always knew you were straight-up. And it didn’t take long to get the feeling Steve wasn’t on the level. But, Steve was good at being bad. Really good. I knew he was grifting, but I never could get any proof. We were so damn busy and so much was getting moved on a daily basis, it was easy for him to reroute a palette or two.”

“So,” Darren concludes, “I think I have my answer. This application can go into the trash. You wouldn’t happen to know of any recent discharges looking for work, would you?”

Hugh starts to say something then stops. “Nah, Reynolds and Ryan just got out, but they met Billy, one of Steve’s proteges, and I think he passed along some bad ideas to them. May have introduced them to Steve, too. They were nowhere as greedy as Steve and Billy, but I’m sure they followed in their footsteps and helped themselves occasionally.”

“Reynolds and Ryan,” says Darren questioningly, as if he is going to make a notice of names to aware of while reviewing resumes.

“Yeah, Andy Reynolds and Joel Ryan. Good guys, but both are easily swayed by an alpha dog.”

Darren thanks Hugh for the information and signs off. He then reaches out and pulls the phone book attached to the booth into the car. He flips through it and is not surprised to find both Reynolds and Ryan listed, but would they still be in the area?

Dropping another coin into the slot and dialing a number Darren hears ringing. A few moments later a harsh woman’s voice is screaming into his ear.

“Hello?”

“Good morning, ma’am, I am trying to reach Andy Reynolds and found this number in the phone book.”

Without another word to him, Darren hears the brash voice holler on the other end of the call, “Andy, it’s for you.”

“Hullo,” says a drowsy Andy.

“Good morning, Andy, my name is P.T. Steve gave me your name. Said you sometimes helped him or Billy out of a bind. He also said you would be able to help me out if I needed something fixed with a shipment.”

Andy may have been sleepy, but he wasn’t stupid. He cautiously says, “I just talked to Steve last week and he didn’t say nothing about any Petey.”

Darren let the wrong name go. “Yeah, well it’s been a while since he gave me your name, and you know how they are, everything is need-to-know, and most stuff we just don’t need to know. Listen, I run a pretty tight ship on my loading dock, but sometimes I need to make an adjustment and thought you could help. I can make it worth your while.”

There is silence while Andy evaluates what he is hearing, but greed finally carries the day. He finally says, “Yeah, I can help, but not over the phone. Meet me at Point Park at noon. There’s a parking lot next to a big play area for kids. Across the way are a bunch of benches. I’ll be wearing a blue baseball cap.”

Darren agrees and then signs off the call.

The next few hours are spent following trucks that leave the Army port to drop off shipments at local warehouses for storage, or to the airport for materials that require a faster delivery. Darren approaches a few of the drivers. One is receptive to his conversation, especially when Darren flashes a small wad of bills in exchange for a five minute talk. The driver does not remember too much about Billy, but he clearly remembers Steve.

“He was a player. At one point I did at least one ‘special’ delivery for him every week,” said the driver.

The driver then goes on to give Darren specific details on what warehouse Steve used to house his illicit goods before he can move them to new buyers.

Darren arrives at the park at five to noon. He parks the car and scans the benches. No one is wearing a ball cap so he stays in his car. At five after he sees someone on a bicycle ride up to a bench and lean his bike against the bench. He pulls a blue cap from his back pocket and squares it on his head before taking a seat. Darren lets him sit for a few minutes before approaching.

Darren walks deliberately to the bench and takes a seat. Without preamble he says, “Andy, I’m P.T. Let’s talk.”

Andy is quite startled at Darren’s sudden appearance and jumps up for a second.

“Sit down,” commands Darren.

Andy sits and looks warily at his bench-mate.

Darren takes a folded sheet of paper from his breast pocket and hands it to Andy. “I need this moved by the end of the month.”

Andy scans the document for a minute then exclaims, “Are you fucking nuts? I thought you were talking about a palette or two. Maybe a couple hundred bucks. This is dozens of palettes over ten-thousand dollars.”

Darren turns to face Andy directly. “I’ve been doing this a long time and know that this can be done. What other back-channels do you have to support this volume?”

Andy squirms in seat and Darren knows he guessed correctly. He lets him stew for a minute then says, “Your handle any overflow through Billy?”

Andy does not react so Darren shifts his target. “Ahh, Billy can’t handle any overflow. A small fish. You’ve got yourself connected directly into Steve’s network don’t you?”

Andy nods.

“Good. Steve and I go way back, though he’s mad at me right now so I wouldn’t mention our chat. However, if you can make this happen I’ll give you ten percent of whatever you can move.”

Andy senses blood and says, “Twenty percent.”

Darren glares at Andy until he starts to get nervous, then not wanting to lose him, says, “Fifteen percent, but it has to be by the end of the month.”

Darren quizzes Andy about the specifics on how the invoices should be labeled and when and where shipments should be scheduled. Fifteen minutes later Andy jumps up to depart when Darren reaches into his breast pocket for a second envelope. He hands it to Andy.

“Here, this is a token of my appreciation,” he says.

Andy opens the envelope to find ten crisp twenty dollar bills inside.