Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“He definitely liked his beer,” I told him. “He had a lot of beer in his fridge. But just that. I only found one random old bottle of vodka in the basement, looking like it hadn’t been seen since the ‘90s.”
“Okay. So, he’s probably not an addict himself or a gambler. What about his financial situation? Was the house paid off? If so, when? What about the garage?”
“He just paid off the house right before he died. The garage is… doing okay. I feel like, with how busy we are, there should be more leftover. We’re just barely making it.”
“What about his spending? I don’t know if he kept his receipts for—”
“He kept receipts for everything. And he always paid in cash, it seems. He really was a Luddite.”
“Hmm,” he said again, clearly knowing something I didn’t. “Okay. What was his spending? Did he eat out a lot? Did he have receipts for any kind of travel?”
“Actually, it seems like he ate out constantly. I mean… there was no real food in the house. Just the beer and some ice cream. As for travel…”
“What is it?” he asked when I felt my eyes go round.
“He had several receipts, going back maybe a year or two… I don’t remember now because I didn’t think anything of it. But he had several receipts for orders from Mexico.”
“What kind of receipts?”
“For shipping containers. They were marked as car parts, but—”
“The powder in the bags,” he cut me off. “Was it more like powdered sugar? Light and fluffy looking? Or was it a little more crystalline, like sugar? It would be shinier if it was crystalline too.”
“Oh,” I said, racking my brain. I’d been so shocked that I just assumed it was fine powder. But… it had been kind of shiny. “I think it might have been shiny. Why?”
“If the car parts came from Mexico, or anywhere in South America, the powder was likely crystalline and, therefore, cocaine, not heroin. Heroin would have come from the Golden Triangle in Asia. But for a shipping container to come in with car parts hiding loads of drugs, it would have specifically come from Thailand, since it’s the only area with a thriving automotive industry.”
“Wow. I should have just asked you instead of trying to research anything myself, huh?”
“You didn’t search on your phone, did you?”
“I’m no savvy criminal, but I’m not dumb. I used the library computer.”
“Better. Not perfect, but better.”
“What does it matter if it was heroin or cocaine?”
“Right now, heroin has a slightly higher street value than cocaine. It’s still potentially an insane amount of drugs. But it’s good to know exactly what we’re dealing with. When was the last time you saw a shipment receipt?”
“I don’t remember. It wasn’t long before he passed. It was close to the top of his pile.”
“Okay. What about what port it came in through? Was it New York?”
“No. No, it was the port here.”
“Wait,” he said, standing straight, shoulders squaring. “The port here? In Navesink Bank?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Because that’s my Family’s port.”
“Oh. Okay. Is that… bad?”
“It’s… not good. We do a lot of legit business through the port. But for those who want to import less-than-legal shit, they owe us a fee. And since we already worked with Phil, we would have known he was bringing in illegal shit if he’d told us.”
“Oh. So… so my uncle was screwing you guys over?”
“To be fair, there’s a small chance he didn’t know that. Very small. But it’s possible. Hey, don’t look so worried. We’re not gonna hold you responsible for your uncle’s actions. I’m just… trying to get all the facts.”
“I can give you all the receipts, if that helps.”
“I’d like to know the car parts company for sure. I can look up shipments and shit like that on our end.”
“Okay. We can go to my place whenever.”
He nodded at that, glancing at the clock on the stove, then moved to start making a pot of coffee.
“Hey, question,” he said, glancing over at the keyring on the table.
“Shoot.”
“Is that the same keyring? The one you had last time?”
“No. No, I took all of the padlock keys off of the other ring and put them on this one. Then I hid it in a slit in the lining of my purse. Why?”
The rich scent of coffee filled the kitchen as he brought down two mugs.
“I think someone was looking for the keys. I’m assuming they thought the place was empty. And they were going to search your office. Maybe they realized the keyring was different.”
“Oh,” I said, things starting to click together. “Hey, Santo…”
“Yeah?”
“When you were at my house and we heard that tumble…”
“Yeah?”
“I didn’t leave that garage door open. I couldn’t even get the garage door open.”
To that, he exhaled hard. “Someone was in your house.”
“I’m pretty sure.”
“Likely looking for the keys or info about the units. Baby, can I ask a really indelicate question?”