Page 20 of Jason's Justice
“What’s his name?”
“Director Homer Halstead. He was with the Bureau for thirty years, director for the last ten years of that time.”
“Director of the same division?”
“Yes. Once he had the director’s position, he oversaw both narcotics and vice.”
No one said anything for several minutes, and as Jason, Ilsa, and Kevin continued to take note, the other people stood and started cleaning up from their dinner, by the time they were done, they had three plates of the left overs made, covered in plastic wrap, and aluminum foil for the three to take home. They could always bring it back with them for lunch the next day. Shortly after that, the gathering broke apart, and just before everyone left, Jason cleared his throat.
“Thank you for dinner, it was delicious, also thank you for letting me question Duane, and I like some of the suggestions you guys threw out.”
“Just remember one thing, Black,” Clark said as he paused and looked back at the lawyer. “We’ve got your six.” He turned on his heel and left, followed by the others.
“What’s that? Got your six?” Ilsa asked as she picked up the plates on her way out to Kevin’s truck.
“Your back,” Kevin said. “Think of your body as a clock. Your front is twelve, your right side is three o’clock, left side is nine o’clock.”
“Ah, and your back is six o’clock. I always wondered what having your six meant, now I do. Thank you for not treating me like an idiot for asking.”
“You’re welcome, and I never would do that.” He made sure all doors were locked, and slipped the padlock on the door and pocketed the key, as he headed toward his truck, Duane met him with another one. “What’s this for?”
“I forgot about the back door, the one where the BBQ cooker was.”
“Ah, yeah, sorry.” Kevin took the lock, walked around the building, and put it on, this time he kept the key in his hand and when he got back to the truck, he handed the key to Jason.
“What’s this?”
“The key to the lock on the back door. If I don’t happen to be here, you’ll still have a way to get in.”
“Why don’t you switch?” Ilsa asked from the center of the back seat. “Give Jason the front door one, you keep the back door one.”
“Okay, that sounds like a plan, we can do it when we get back to the cabin.” He shook his head and stopped the truck when he experienced a large yawn, then started forward again. “I don’tknow about you guys, but I took in a lot of information today, and I’m brain dead and exhausted.”
“Yeah,” the other two occupants of the truck said quietly, and when they arrived home, Ilsa put the meals in the refrigerator, and told the men goodnight and headed toward her room. By the time she was shutting her door behind her, the other two were going to their rooms also.
CHAPTER 9
Around mid-morning the next day,Ilsa looked up from the papers she was reading and spotted Duane walk up to the table with a box in his hands.
“Here you go,” Duane said as he set the box on the edge of the table. He didn’t wait for her to question him as he continued, “This is a copy of the file I told you about. The one with the men we arrested from the prostitute sting.” He lifted the lid and had Ilsa look in as he laid his hand in each section. “The prostitute sting, the recordings of when I was undercover in the drug gang, it wasn’t really a cartel, it was a bunch of locals and the number ten guy was the head of the operation. Then this last section is the information from the nanny camera from my apartment.”
“Is there voice on that tape?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you, you know you probably won’t get this information back until after the case we take to court is done, right?”
“I know, and these are copies anyway. Except for the camera still in the teapot.” He lifted the item and pointed to the spout with the camera lens. “The battery is probably dead by now, but it was motion activated, that’s the only time it would record.At the bottom of the pot is where all the recordings are held onto a sim card. I always turned it off when I returned from an undercover operation. I didn’t need to record myself.”
“Okay, I heard someone say something about a wedding yesterday, you’re not married?”
“Divorced, and it’s complicated.” He sat on a chair at the next table and told her about how he had been on an undercover case and what his wife had done by bringing the guy home with her. About how she went to jail, served her time, got out, and was killed.
“Is her killer behind bars?”
“Yes, he’s doing life.” Duane scowled, cocked his head to the side and sighed heavily.
“What is it?” Jason asked. He had come back into the room when Duane started to talk about his marriage.
