Colossus and the Crooks

In the meantime, I’m trying to get into the heads of the thieves. I had maps of the post taped on walls. Where thefts occurred, I used different colored post-it notes with dates, and so on.

We call this a crime board. The idea was I would look at and see when and where things were occurring. But there was so much data, all I managed to do was confuse myself.

“There has to be a better way,” I said complaining to a friend who was in MI.

“What you need,” he said, “is a mapping program.”

“What?”

“We have an old program we’ve played with called Marplot. It’s declassified and should run on your system down there. Let me talk to my Colonel and I’ll see if I can give you a copy.”

He did better than that. He came down and installed it for me. Then he gave me some declassified wire frame maps of the post. Using the program, I created different colored icons for days of the week and mapped them to the thefts. I could look at everything I’d mapped or just certain days.

What I was expecting to see were several hits on certain days. What I was trying to do was project a flight path for the criminals and anticipate where they’d strike next.

But even with the hi-tech wizardry of a computer, it wasn’t helping. There was no flight path. Worse, things weren’t adding up to support the idea of off-post thieves. I’d have a theft in one parking lot and another theft across post on the same night. Or only one car in a parking lot was broken into and leaving dozens of other cars untouched.

Then one day, I caught a break

We were called up to one of the units on the hill. Typical report. The RPs name was Mark. A nice enough guy. He had the exact amount spent on his stereo system and the receipt with the serial number. Everything we needed.

But as I’m looking over the scene, something clicked. I asked my partner and the two road MPs what was different about this break in.

“I don’t know,” Hudson said. Hudson had just come to us from a line unit and I was training him.

“It’s too neat,” I said. The thieves even left the screws behind. That’s when I said something that opened the door to a whole new thinking. Only I would realize what I’d said days later. “It’s almost as if they expected to come back and put it back in.”

What I said bothered me for the next week.

A few days later, I went back to the computer to load the latest break ins. And when I was working I looked at the screen. I’m sure my mouth fell open in surprise. The computer had been giving me the answer all along.

I would expect criminals to work an area and move on. They certainly wouldn’t hit one car, drive across post and hit another. They’d do a wholesale business and hit one area hard.

I’d been looking for a flight path and now I saw it. There was a flight path. Just not the one we all expected.

I leaned back in my chair and looked over at Hudson.

“What did you say?” he asked.

I’d actually sworn at the surprise of the revelation.

“Do you see it?” I asked gesturing at the screen.

“What?”

“The flight path of the thieves?”

“I don’t see one,” he said, looking at the screen.

“Because there isn’t one,” I said. “We’re not dealing with a gang of thieves. We’re dealing with individuals.”

“I don’t get it?” He hadn’t seen it yet.

“Let’s stop thinking in terms of someone ripping off the stereos and selling them. I mean we haven’t even got a twitch of that happening.”

“Go on.”

“Who profits from the thefts?”

“The thieves?”

“Yes. But some of these jobs damaged the dashboards pretty bad. In some cases, a crowbar had been taken to the dash boards to get them out. Doing that probably destroyed the stereo as well. They don’t want to go through all the effort to steal something they can’t sell,” I said. “So, I ask you again. Who profits.”

It took him a second to see it. “The soldier,” he said.

At the time, the government had a rather interesting way of dealing with thefts and etc. on post. All you had to do was call the MPs and report it. We came up, investigated it, the soldier gave us information, and we gave him a report.

He then took that report to JAG and made a claim. Within a matter of days, the army gave the soldier a check covering their lose.

“Now how do we prove it?” he asked.

I thought about it for a moment. “The Grand Am from the other day. Remember what I said?”

“About them coming back to put it in?”

I nodded. I got the case file and found the serial number. “Let’s take a ride,” I said.

We drove into Junction City. There were a couple of shops that installed stereos and I’d been talking to all these guys. So when I showed up, they were willing to answer questions.

After talking to this one installer, his eyes widened and he said, “Hang on a sec.”

He went into the back office and came back a moment later with a receipt.

“I installed a stereo in this car yesterday,” he said.

He handed it to me and there was my victim called out my name. The car matched too. Same license plate, car make, and so on. But most importantly, the serial number of the stereo installed matched the one that was stolen. “He told me he took it out and couldn’t put it back in.”

“Can I have a copy of this, and would you give me a statement?”

He was more than happy to do so.

When we were headed back, Hudson said, “He just hung himself.”

“He picks up that check and he will,” I replied.

We got back to the office, and I called JAG right away. “He’s supposed to come in and pick the check up at 1300,” they told me.

I recalled that while processing the car, I’d explained to Mark how he’d be reimbursed for his lost.

“That’s great he said. I can just walk across the street to the bank.” The bank was just a small credit union, but it was popular with the troops.

We had to catch him cashing the check. Then we could nail him on the fraud charge easily. But I needed more than Hudson and me. He knew our faces and probably wouldn’t do anything dumb it we were watching.

“Let’s go over to 1st MPs,” I said.

We walked over and I asked to see Capt. Price. I’d known Scott when he was a civilian cop and we were already friends.

“What’s up Rich?” he asked.

“Funny you should ask, Sir,” I answered. I’d never call him Scott in front of the troops. “I need to see if I can borrow two or three of your troopers for a small operation this afternoon.”

I told him a little about it, and he called to the front office. A few minutes later two of my favorite soldiers came in. They were Specialist Arron Rocavitch who’d worked with me several times. The other was a woman, Cpl. Grace Livingston. They were both off duty and in civilian clothes.

“You guys want to help Rich out on something this afternoon?”

That perked them up.

“What’s going on?’ Grace asked.

“Here’s the game,” I said. “At 1300 hrs, a guy named Mark Thompson will go in and pick up a check at JAG. They will call me when he has. Arron, I want you close to the doors of JAG, but not too close. You’ll bird dog him and let us and Grace know which way he’s headed. My bet is he’ll go straight to the bank here on main post.”

“Why there?”

“He has his account there. Or so he said,” I answered. Then I went on. “Grace. I’m going to put you inside the bank. Have a seat like you’re waiting for one of the officers. I’ll let them know you’re there on official business. All I want you to do is see when he arrives and cashes the check. Then follow him out. Arron, you’ll start walking this way about five minutes after you see him leave JAG. Hudson and I will be waiting outside to take him down.”

“Sounds fun,” Grace said.

We got radios, one for Arron, one for Grace, and one for us. He and I went next door to the PMO. I wanted to be able to watch out of a second story window with binos. That would position us quickly to get across the street and take him down.

At 1230 hours Arron walked over to the JAG office and waited for our suspect. Grace went to the bank, while we watched from the Provost Marshal’s building.

1254 hrs – “Will, Arron. Suspect just entered JAG.”

“Roger,” Hudson answered. We waited and watched.

About ten minutes later – “Suspect left JAG. Walking towards the bank,” Arron radioed. “Roger. Headed your way, Grace. He’s wearing a tan jacket and jeans.”

13:10 hrs – “Roger. Shutting radio down.”

Houston and I went to window and watched.

A few minutes later we saw him. He stopped at the cross walk and then walked across the street to the Army Community Services (ACS) building. The building housed the bank.

“Stay sharp, Grace,” I said. With the radios off, she couldn’t hear me. A lot was riding on her witnessing his cashing it.

He walked in disappearing from out sight.

“Let’s go,” I said.

We raced down the steps and across the street.

We were waiting outside the ACS building when he came out.

“Mark,” I said. Hudson had moved to block him if he tried to bolt. Gracie had walked out almost right behind him. Aaron had crossed the street and was less than five meters away.

“investigator Muniz?”

“Mark,” I said. “I need you to come with me, please.”

The look on his face told me he knew what the deal was. I can’t blame him for saying, “I have CQ tonight. I need to get back to my unit.”

I put on my best command voice and said, “It wasn’t a request,” I said. “It’s an order. Come with me. Consider yourself under arrest.”

The four of us walked him over to the PMO and my office. He got advised of his rights and when confronted with the evidence, confessed. Like so many soldiers he was in debt up to his butt. And like so many, he thought this was an easy way to make money.

The next couple of weeks was busy ones for us. Almost everyone who had made a report was brought in. It kept every investigator busy. The RPs were advised, and at the end, confessed to the crimes of Fraud and Making a False Report.

We closed over two hundred cases that way. No one got court-martialed over it. Article 15s flowed like water for the next few weeks. A lot of people lost rank and had to make restitution to the Government.

And primitive as the technology was at the time, the computer helped solve the case.

And I relearned a lesson I already knew. That lesson is this. If the data doesn’t support your theory, then you’ve got the wrong theory.

Two weeks after we closed the last case, our Colonel and the Sgt. Major took us all to the NCO club for beer and goodies. Somehow, that felt like more than adequate reward.