Check out more than 65+ chapters right now! đ„
đ patreon.com/cw/Mr_UmU
https://www.patreon.com/Mr_UmU
__________
Chapter 126: Plumbing Repairs at Home at the Time
After handing the package to the attendant, Agent Lombardi walked to the centre of the car and sat beside a bald man absorbed in the Washington Post, one of his agents, disguised as a passenger.
Lombardi leaned close, murmuring quiet instructions before rising to circuit the car. He repositioned his plainclothes agents like pieces on a chessboard, adjusting sight lines and closing escape routes until the conductor's whistle shrilled across Union Station.
Stepping onto the platform, Lombardi watched through rain-streaked windows as the two passengers with green packages hesitated at the door twice before retreating deeper into the car.
With a mechanical groan, the Pittsburgh-bound train lurched into motion and disappeared into the November gloom.
The platform emptied quickly, leaving only the surveillance team. Lombardi's jaw was set in the hard line his wife recognised as trouble brewing.
"Gentlemen," he told his assembled agents, "we've got complications."
He explained the green packages and the attendant's side business. His instincts whispered that Bernie wasn't the only government employee who'd fallen for this con.
The railway freight supervisor at Union Station possessed comfortable corpulence and an office reeking of glazed donuts and Maxwell House. When Lombardi's team appeared, he was methodically consuming Krispy Kremes, three bites per donut.
The greasy registration book he produced showed one green package logged that morning, Veterans Affairs to New York. The three Pittsburgh-bound packages were not listed on any official paperwork, making them ghost shipments.
Back at headquarters, Director Rosen's satisfied expression fell when Lombardi reported their failure to apprehend anyone and the case's metastasis into something more complex.
"Two more government employees, possibly three," Lombardi concluded. "This isn't harassment anymore, sir. It's systematic."
"Federal Communications Commission Order Number 74," Rosen decided. "Get me the paperwork."
Order 74 compelled AT&T to open its records to federal scrutiny. But bureaucracy moved at its own pace, and by the time authorisation came through, it was past four o'clock.
The calling phone belonged to the DC-17 exchange, Union Station's network. Seventeen hundred potential phones, each requiring manual investigation of punch-card records. Finding their caller meant examining seventeen hundred sets of punch cards for the specific pulse pattern matching their office number.
Even with precise timing, the task would require weeks. Lombardi and Rosen found themselves trapped between minor annoyance and a federal case, severe enough to demand attention, not quite serious enough to justify complete Bureau resources.
Theodore had been constructing a psychological profile using techniques that wouldn't be formally recognised for another decade.
Their adversary had calibrated his crimes to exist in the investigative dead zone, severe enough to attract federal attention but not enough to warrant full Justice Department fury.
Theodore requested permission to take over the case, which caused Lombardi visible discomfort. Back in his office, he dialled a number from memory. While the Bureau struggled with punch cards, he had other resources.
Bernie's evening plans with the renovation contractor evaporated under the weight of the federal investigation.
Theodore was reviewing notes when Pittsburgh called. The train job had been successful; the attendant and two passengers were arrested, and packages were opened. Lombardi's contained waste paper; the others held five thousand dollars each in small bills.
But the attendant's remaining cargo revealed a pistol and heroin, absolute contraband.
The attendant was well-regarded in criminal circles, a reliable courier with over a decade of successful deliveries. Two days ago, he'd received a call requesting transport of one unmarked green package from D.C. to Pittsburgh, then back to Union Station locker 103.
The two passengers were government employees from the Federal Bureau of Prisons and the Department of Veterans Affairs.
Both had received identical ransom demands: $5,000, placed in green packages and transported on the Pittsburgh train. Both had tried desperately to contact families after receiving calls, their panic mounting when phones went unanswered.
They'd gathered ransom money with desperate efficiency, following instructions with the precision of the damned. Federal agents seemed like a catastrophe, an interference that would result in family deaths.
"Bring them back tomorrow," Theodore instructed.
Saturday morning found Theodore and Bernie in the nearly empty federal building. AT&T confirmed calls originated from DC-1708, a public telephone booth at Union Station's east entrance. Nine calls yesterday, each triggering a J-7 fault report.
"J-7 faults indicate counterfeit coin jams," the technician explained.
Bernie's scepticism was immediate. "Nobody makes nine calls with fake coins. Fake coins don't work."
They met at the east entrance of Union Station for a demonstration. The technician produced a magnetised coin, inserting it halfway into the slot. At the spring-sound of coin return, he yanked it back and dialled with professional speed.
"D.C. Police Department, First Precinctâ"
"Three-minute limit," he explained. "System cuts you off, just like regular calls."
Theodore studied the human river flowing around this fixed point, thousands of potential witnesses, yet practical anonymity. Fingerprints were impossible after dozens of users.
The afternoon brought the Pittsburgh team's return with three passengers. The defrauded government employees looked hollow-eyed, exhausted by emotional whiplash.
Bernie dialled their home numbers directly. The first wife explained: "The plumber was fixing bathroom pipes. I couldn't hear anything over the hammering."
The second had been shopping for blueberry jam during the ransom call.
Both men found their office numbers on AT&T's call list, confirming systematic targeting of government employees. Their ransom calls were nearly identical to Bernie's, differing only in amount: five thousand from each, twenty thousand from Bernie.
Theodore studied the evidence.
Their opponent demonstrated knowledge of government systems, federal procedures, and employee information, as well as psychological sophistication, to manipulate intelligent adults, someone with insider knowledge who'd studied federal law enforcement like a general preparing for war.
It was going to be an interesting chess match.
[End of Chapter]
__________________Â