Help! - Law Enforcement Issues

Time period: 1980-1995

Premise: A pawn shop owner has devised what he thinks is an unbeatable system for raking in tens of thousands of dollars a year illegally in a way that is unlikely to be discovered:

1. A truly legal and profitable pawn shop- no fencing of items stolen by others
2. Cooperation with local police in 'sting' operations to catch local thieves and burglars
3. His own built-in master burglar + apprentice to steal select, small high-value items (jewelry, coins, small valuable collectibles)
• Not allowed to carry guns or other weapons that might get used in the heat of the moment
• No 'big spending' by boss or subordinates of the illegal gains
4. Only targeting homes and businesses where he has enough info to guarantee they can get in and out quickly without alerting the owner or the authorities
5. Not hitting the same Texas county more than once every 24 months (in theory, 400+ counties to choose from)
6. Stolen items are kept in a hidden location in the pawn shop building where they are not likely to be discovered
7. Items are fenced in Japan through former military compatriot who married into a Japanese family owning an import/export business
• no local sales
• Japanese family believes the items to be legally acquired (false paperwork provided)

Questions:
Looking only at these factors, how well thought out is their scheme?

• Were Texas state, county and local criminal activity databases sufficient, accurate and consistently used enough to pick up patterns of criminal activity and to alert authorities?
• National databases?
• Were police trained to look for such patterns utilizing whatever data sources were available?
• Apart from the FBI and the IRS, how are these crooks most likely to trip themselves up and get caught?

(Excerpt) Trip to the Secret Cabin - Part 2

Mary woke when she felt the Caprice turning onto the bumpy side road that signified her leg of the driving. “Pull over anywhere here and let’s trade places.” As she got out, she noticed that Kip was awake. Opening the back door, she leaned in. “How are you holding up?” Kip's smile came out more like a grimace. “I’ll be OK until we get there. But then I need to get some sleep in a real bed.”

As Jay slipped into the passenger seat, he picked up Mary’s improvised pillow. “OK if I use this?” Mary nodded and Jay stuck the rolled up coat behind his head and leaned back. With nothing to do for the moment, he was suddenly aware of how exhausted he was. He closed his eyes and fell asleep quickly, dreaming of black-clad motorcyclists chasing their car through rocky desert. Mary kept her eyes on the gravelly road and tried to avoid the worst of the potholes.

Less than an hour later Jay awoke with a start as the car stopped abruptly and Kip groaned in the back seat. "Shit, this is just what we need!" Mary muttered. Jay looked out and saw a fallen Live Oak blocking their progress.

“Sorry, Kip,” Mary called as she jumped out for a closer look with Jay close behind her. She assessed the obstacle and shook her head. "We've got to move it because we sure as hell can't go over it or around it!” Noticing the charred and cracked base, Jay commented, “Looks like a lightning strike.” She and Jay grabbed a limb and yanked, but even with their combined strength they couldn't budge it.

“Aughh,” Jay gasped as he straightened up and took several deep breaths. “Feels like I pulled a muscle.”

Mary turned back toward the car. “Good point, we're just going to hurt ourselves trying to move it by hand. Pop the trunk and get out the heavy rope. Let’s use the Caprice’s horsepower to move this enough to squeak past.”

Jay reached in and pulled the trunk release. As he swung the trunk lid open and grabbed the rope, he asked, “What if we still can’t move the tree?”

“Then we'll spend an hour backtracking and take a road even worse than this one. God help us if that road has any problems!"

Jay tied the rope just below a fork in the tree. "Shall I tie the other end to the front bumper?"

Mary grimaced. "Not unless we want to rip the bumper off. There's a heavy-duty towing ring welded onto the frame. It's about five inches in diameter located about eighteen inches behind the center of the bumper. If you crawl under the front there you'll see it.”

Jay soon had the rope tied off underneath. He walked to the far side of the tree as Mary put the car in reverse and pulled the rope taut. He watched the tree for any movement and called out, "Nothing yet, give it a little more power."

At first it seemed as if their ‘tree vs car’ event was going to end in a draw. Then the tree moved a few inches. “It’s starting to move. Try a little more gas.” The tree bumped slowly across the gravel road. “OK, we can squeeze by now.” Mary glanced at her watch. “Almost forty-five minutes wasted and we still have a ways to go!”

When they finally reached the cabin, Jay thought, Looks pretty ordinary to me. But as ry pulled around the back, he couldn't hide his surprise. "What the hell!"

The cabin was almost twice as big as it had looked from the front. The back half of the cabin was indented a few feet on each side to make it less visible from the front. So the builders hadn't bothered to disguise its formidable construction. The walls were concrete with small steel barred windows and the door was welded steel.

Mary laughed at Jay's reaction. "Yes, that is how the whole building is constructed, not just the back. When they were done building, they added a facade of split logs on the front and sides to make it look less imposing. The original owners apparently thought of it as an above-ground bomb shelter. Dad bought it for a song from the estate when they died.”Jumping out of the car, Mary told Kip, “Give us a few minutes to get set up for you, OK?" When Kip nodded weakly, she gave him an encouraging smile and closed the car door.

As Mary walked briskly toward the cabin, she reached into her pocket and produced a pair of unusual looking keys. In their years of doing burglaries Jay had never seen keys like these.. She used one to open a lock at the top of the door and the other for a lock at the bottom. Swinging the reinforced door inward, she entered with Jay at her heels.

(c) 2013-14 Charles E. Pierson All Rights Reserved

(Excerpt) Trip to the Secret Cabin - Part 1

Jay, Mary and Kip have left the pawn shop and are driving to the secret cabin Mary's dad maintained. Jay is driving.

"So it was during his paranoid years he used the cabin?” Jay made it sound like a question and a statement at the same time.

"Well, when dad was at the height of his paranoia, he wanted a hideaway where nobody could track him. That meant living off the grid to minimize public records related to the cabin." Mary shook her head as she recalled the extent of her father’s fears.

Jay eyed the speedometer and eased back on the gas. Take it easy, Leadfoot. Low profile, remember? He asked Mary, “What about electricity and water?”

“There's a natural spring under the cabin and dad hooked a pump into it. And the electricity comes from a solar system that has a propane backup generator with a 200 gallon propane tank out back.” Mary shifted positions, trying to get comfortable. “He wouldn't have a portable phone of any kind because he didn't believe they were secure. If he needed to use a phone, he'd drive back into Whitesboro and use the pay phone at the gas station.”

"In our home, the last couple years before he died he actually thought the government could hear him if he was in the same room with a telephone, even if he wasn't using it. Before the cancer, when he was heavy into mushrooms, he imagined there were cameras and microphones in our home electrical outlets. He tore into several of the walls looking for them and Mom had to call Kip to help talk him down."

Jay suddenly swerved into the oncoming lane and back again. “Armadillo with a death wish.” Mary smiled and craned her neck to look back. Sure enough a slow-moving armadillo was ambling across Hwy 82 as if it didn’t have a care in the world.

“I wouldn't want to be his insurance agent,” Mary quipped as she faced forward again. "When dad knew he was dying, he and Kip took me up to the cabin and made me swear I would never tell anyone where it was. And I never did."

Jay nodded, then raised a new concern. “So how about our food while we’re there? We've only brought enough for about a week."

"Oh you don't need to worry about that. Those are mostly to give us variety. Dad always made sure there was a minimum of three months food and water there, plus propane for cooking and for the backup generator. A lot of that food is MRE’s- Military Ready to Eat. Main dish like spaghetti or stew, plus a side dish. Some kind of bread or cracker, plus a dessert and drink. There’s even a flame-less heater so they can be warmed up without a stove.”

Jay wrinkled his nose. “I guess that would be better than nothing...but I hope we don’t have to find out.”

Mary stretched her lanky legs out to ease the fatigue as her adrenalin high began to wear off. What she needed was a day of sleeping in, eating and maybe some playtime in bed. Instead she was back on the road, not even a shower or nap to refresh her.

Jay watched as arid desert and scrub brush went by. He wondered Why is Mary so convinced we’ll be safer at this cabin than in a motel somewhere? "So how come nobody has stumbled across this cabin if the road’s good enough for a Caprice to get there?"

“The turnoff to the last 2-miles piece is well-concealed. And I’ve gone up once or twice a year to cut back any brush that's growing into the road. Remember when I said I was going to visit my cousin in Las Vegas or my aunt in Santa Fe?”

Jay smirked at her. “Pretty cute. I never did believe those stories, you know.” She arched her eyebrows at him. “I figured you were just sneaking off to see some guy!” They both laughed.

An hour later they stopped at a Shell station in the town of Whitesboro to fill up the gas tank and get some coffee.

As they got back into the Caprice, Mary looked into the back seat. “Since Kip’s sleeping and you're driving, I’m going to get some shut-eye. There's a lot to do once we get there." She rolled her coat into a makeshift pillow, and fell asleep instantly.

(c) 2013-14 Charles E. Pierson All Rights Reserved

Help! Need Graduation Ceremony Info

Regarding the Class of 88 Graduation ceremony, I'd like to know-

• How many people graduated in 1988?
• Agenda for the ceremony
• Who was the 'big name' speaker (if one was used)
• Topic

• Is a copy of the speech available anywhere?
  
• Any unusual or funny incidents during the ceremonies?
  
• Are there local traditions regarding what Seniors do following the ceremonies?

NOTE: My book is purely a work of fiction. I am not researching actual people who attended as a basis for any characters that will appear in the book. Any info you can provide will be greatly appreciated.

If you know someone I should be contacting, I would really appreciate that also. (Please specify if I may or may not tell them you referred me to them.)

HELP! Need city map- mid-1980s

Ever read a story that had people driving down a street that hadn't been created yet...or no longer existed at the time of the story?

That's what I'm trying to avoid...so if you know of a source of online or other maps of Wichita Falls in other decades it would help a lot.

(Excerpt) Threat to Graduating (v.4- 4/3/14)

Jay’s home room teacher handed him a note, folded in half, with ‘Mr. Harris’ written on the outside in spidery handwriting. Unfolding it, he read, “Pls see me ASP re grad reqmnts.”  It was signed “P. Phelps.”

Miss Phelps (nobody knew what the ‘P’ stood for) was the academics counselor for his part of the alphabet. At five-foot-nothing and a hundred pounds, she looked afraid of her own shadow. Looks, in this case, were definitely deceiving. Rumor had it that she had already been a school counselor when Mr. Tubman, the principal, had gone to this same high school. More than once Jay had seen Mr. Tubman turn tail rather than argue with her.

Jay knocked gently on her office door. From the other side of the door a raspy voice screeched, “Well don’t just stand there, come in, come in.” As he entered, Jay could barely see the top of her blue-tinged hair over the stack of year books and folders on her desk. Two vein-streaked hands parted the piles and Miss Phelps came into view. She stared at Jay, cocking her head first to the left, then to the right. She closed her eyes and appeared to drift off.

“Uhhh...Jay Harris, ma'am.”

Her eyes opened and blinked rapidly. She looked down at the large calendar pad on her battered oak desk, then back at Jay. “You must be Mr. Harris.”

“You sent for me?”

She looked up at the ceiling in thought. “Yes…of course I did. Can’t imagine you’d just drop by to bring me chocolates or pass the time of day.” Her face crinkled into a smile and a cackling sound escaped from her throat.

God, was that a laugh or is she choking? Jay felt light-headed and realized he was holding his breath. He exhaled slowly as her face returned to normal. “You wanted to see me about something? Perhaps graduation?”

“Yes…yes, of course. Let's just see here now.” Jay saw his name on the folder she flipped open. “Hmmm.” She ran her fingers down a list of his classes that had a grade next to each entry. “Hmmm…A…B…B+….A….” Her finger paused at the last class in the list. “Ah, here it is…yes.” She looked up at Jay, who was still standing. “Well sit down…sit down…hurts my neck to be looking up at you. Lands sake!” Jay sat in the ancient wooden chair in front of her desk.

“Better…much better. Now about your grade in Physics. A grade of ‘D’ won’t do, Mr. Harris, won’t do at all. If you expect to walk across that platform with the other Seniors, you need at least a ‘C’.”

Jay felt his face and neck getting blotchy and sweat was dripping down his sides. “Sorry, Miss Phelps. I’ve tried and tried to learn the stuff Mr. Montgomery is teaching us. I use the same formulas as other kids. But my falling bodies never hit the ground the same time as theirs do.” Jay added, “And my boats never reach the opposite river bank at the right point either. Same river current, same wind as everyone in the class. My boats go too far downstream…or not far enough.”

Miss Phelps made a scolding sound that reminded Jay of frogs mating. “Well, we can’t have that can we. World would be a disaster, wouldn’t it? Falling bodies and boats acting willy-nilly and breaking the laws of physics. I shall get you a tutor from Midwestern College.” She scribbled a note in his folder, then threw the folder into the Out box.

When Jay didn’t immediately leave, she stood and leaned across the desk towards him. “Is there something else, Mr. Harris? You aren’t going to propose marriage I hope. Really would be quite unsuitable…more like January-December than May-June, wouldn’t you agree? You may return to class.”

Jay stood up so quickly he knocked the chair over. “Sorry ma’am. Thank you ma'am.” He righted he chair and retreated from the office, forgetting to close the door. The sound of giggling followed him down the long hallway.

 © 2014, Charles Edward (Chuck) Pierson. WORK IN PROGRESS. Except as provided by the Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher.

HELP! Anything else??

Are there other things I should know about life in Wichita Falls in the 1980s? Please feel free to leave a comment here.  Or you can email me at-
incurableoptimist@chuckpierson.com.