Colossus and the Bust!

I was assigned a new partner about this time.

We were always getting someone new. MPI was one of those slots you didn’t fill for your entire military career. It was one of those jobs you kind of earned. I was already looking at leaving it for one of the line units.

My new partner was David Hudson. He was young. My job was teach him everything I knew. I figured that would take about two minutes.

We were called up to the hill on another break in and theft. 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.

Getting all that, I wanted to get some pictures and dust for prints. He unlocked his red Grand Am and I got in. The minute I looked at it, 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 several days. I knew I’d just seen something important. I didn’t know yet what that something was.

A few days later, I went back to the computer to load in 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 like they had Cav.

That’s when I realized what had happened. We’d gotten married to the one incident so to speak. It became the template against which we were all measuring the thefts. And the template was wrong!

And the computer had been trying to tell me that all along. 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 won’t 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. Saying made it obvious.

At the time, the government had a rather interesting way of dealing with thefts 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, Finance 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?”

“But what about the attack at Cav?”

“Let’s call it the exception,” I said. There was doubt that it had happened. “Let’s say it set us on the wrong path to figure this out.”

I nodded to myself. Now that I saw sit, it started to make some sense.

I got the case file and found the serial number mark had given us.

“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.

Most, of course, knew nothing. But at one shop, the owner’s eyes widened, and he said, “Hang on a sec.”

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

“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,” he explained.

“Can I have a copy of this, and would you give me a statement?” We’d taken a shot in the dark and it had worked.

After getting the copy and the statement, we headed back.

Hudson said, “Mark just hung himself.”

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

We got back to the office, and I called Finance right away.

“He’s supposed to come in and pick the check up at 1300,” they told me. Hudson had a cell and I gave them his number. They’d call when he came in.

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 in question was just a small credit union, and 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 if 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. It will take an hour, maybe two tops.”

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, Rich?’ 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 Finance. Arron, I want you close to Finance, 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.

“Here’s a copy of his drivers license.” I’d had the desk print it off one the color printer. It had been renewed recently so the photo was current. I handed it around.

“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 Finance. Hudson and I will be waiting outside to take him down. And I’d like you guys close enough to get in on it.”

“Sounds fun,” Grace said.

We got radios, one for Arron, one for Grace, and one for us. Hudson 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. And we watched from the Provost Marshal’s building. I’d wanted to use a conference room window, but they were all busy. We settled for the window on the stair landing.

1254 hrs – “Rich, Arron. Suspect just entered Finance.”

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

“What are guys doing?” A voice behind us asked.

I turned. It was our Sgt. Major.

“Food after none, Sgt. Major,” I said. “Working a case?”

“Oh?” That got his interest. “Dope?”

“Stereo thefts,” I explained.

He chuckled and teased us with, “Oh, I thought you guys were checking out girls. Carry on.” He left us alone.

About ten minutes later, Arron radioed – “Suspect left Finance. He’s heading your way, Grace. He’s wearing a tan jacket and jeans.”

Hudson’s phone rang and Finance confirmed he’d picked up the check.

13:10 hrs – “Roger. Shut your radios down.”

Hudson and I 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 so I was talking to the air. A lot was riding on her witnessing his cashing it.

He walked in disappearing from our 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?” he said in surprise.

“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 away the friendly voice and spoke in my command voice. “It wasn’t a request, Mark. 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 were 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.

A few weeks later, Junction City Police took down several older teens. They had the stolen stereos from Cav. One confessed to attacking Martinez fearing they were about to get caught. They all ended up doing jail time. As I’d realized, that was the exception, not the rule in our cases.

And primitive as the technology was at the time, the computer helped solve the case. It helped me see the data in a manner that made sense.

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. I made sure Arron and Grace were invited.

Somehow, that felt like more than adequate reward.