“Well, we found it. I don’t know if it was extraordinary detective skills, or complete dumb luck, but we matched up the name on a power bill to an address that matched the description that Reverend Jenkins provided. We checked it out and lo and behold, Donnie Martin’s BMW was parked right out front. The house is located across the street from a park up on Fortieth Avenue North.”
“Just above the U-District,” she said. “Just like Paola said it was.”
“Right. And just like Reverend Jenkins said. Anyway, we staked out the house over the weekend.”
“And?”
“We saw Martin, or at least a guy we think was Martin-he was driving Martin’s car anyway-and a girl-older girl-we presume it’s his bottom girl, Crystal. By the way, we think her real name is Patricia Denise Wallace. I’ll send you her info. Anyway, we saw them come and go together maybe half a dozen times. Also saw a guy we presume to be DeMichael Hollins. He drives a maroon Expedition. We were able to trace the registration back to Hollins. We’ll send you that, too.”
“Power bills and DMV info?” Nancy said, a touch of suspicion in her voice. “I don’t even want to know how you guys are getting this stuff.”
“Better that way,” I said. “But my real point is, we never saw any other girls at the house. And since we were stationary, we don’t know where these guys were going or where they were coming from. Based on that, we’ve decided to do a vehicle surveillance this afternoon. We want to tail him and see if he’ll lead us to the other houses-including, we hope, the one where the girls live.”
“That sounds logical,” she said. “ I know you guys know what you’re doing, but I have to say this-be careful.”
“Definitely,” I said.
“Oh, by the way, I got a message from our gang unit-they’ve assigned us the guy they say is most plugged into the north side. They asked me to set something up with you guys. He’s free to meet with you tomorrow.”
“Great,” I said. “We can make any time tomorrow work. Just let us know.”
“I’ll send you a text,” she said.
“Good. Thanks for setting things up for us.”
By 11:45 a.m., all four vehicles were in position. I was parked in the Bryant Playground parking lot-the same lot where the Winnebago had been parked over the weekend. Only I wasn’t driving the Winnebago. I wasn’t driving my red Jeep, either-the consensus of the Logan PI staff being that it stood out too much (an opinion that was hard to dispute). I didn’t set out to make the Jeep conspicuous-I just wanted it to be a pretty decent off-road vehicle, but by the time I’d lifted the body a couple of inches to accommodate the tall wheels and thirty-one-inch tires, well, I have to admit, it wasn’t easy to hide anymore. So I drove the dark green van with Lake Union Appliance Repair vinyl stickers slapped on the side.
When properly executed, the rolling box method of vehicle surveillance doesn’t give the subject an opportunity to ID a tail, because the tail is constantly changing. One of the vehicles-usually the closest, is the “prime” vehicle and has command. That vehicle directs all the others. The prime vehicle might not be behind the subject, it might actually be in front with additional vehicles staged on parallel side roads in case the subject turns off. The command changes constantly as the team members take turns rotating into the prime position, never staying long enough to arouse suspicion. Good communication between all vehicles is essential, as is proper staging and placement of vehicles around the subject.
We started by staging Toni across the street in a supermarket parking lot. If Martin turned to go south on Sixty-Fifth, I’d follow him as command vehicle, and Toni would follow me as backup. Doc was further west on Sixty-Fifth. He’d take off as I approached. When we got in range, I’d pull off and allow him to become the command vehicle while he was still in front of Martin. Toni would continue to stay well behind as backup. Meanwhile, Kenny was about a half mile south on Fortieth in case Martin decided to head off in that direction.
At 12:15 p.m., pretty much right on schedule, I saw the door to the house open, and Crystal stepped out, followed a moment later by Martin.
“Showtime, guys,” I said into the headset. I watched as they got into the car and pulled north. As soon as he put his left turn blinker on, indicating he was turning west on Sixty-Fifth, I was immediately relieved-Martin was following his pattern. I said, “He’s turning westbound on Sixty-Fifth. Kenny-start making your way westbound.”
I followed him westbound on Sixty-Fifth for a mile, with Toni behind me by about one hundred yards. Kenny was about five blocks south of us, paralleling our direction of travel. When we approached Doc, I pulled off, and Doc became the command vehicle. Toni continued to trail.
Martin continued westbound for another mile, and then Doc said, “He’s turning south. Looks like he’s turning on Brooklyn. I’m already past.”
I was just about to reach Brooklyn.
“Kenny,” Doc called. “Are you at Brooklyn yet?”
“Negative.”
“Then just pull up on Fifty-Fifth and stop short of Brooklyn,” Doc said. “Don’t cross. Cover us in case he keeps heading south.”
“Roger,” Kenny said.
“Toni, are you going to follow him down Brooklyn?”
“Yeah. It’s a tight street, though-I’m going to hang back a bit.”
“Okay,” I said. “Toni, you’ve got command.” I was looking at the portable Garmin GPS suction-cupped to the dash.
A few seconds later, Toni said, “He’s slowing down. He’s parking along the curb at a house across from the park. I’m going to slow down and then turn east here on Sixty-Second before I get there.”
“Okay, they’re getting out,” she said a second later.
“Kenny,” she called out. “Turn north on Brooklyn. Come up slow and do a drive-by and grab the address. The beemer is parked right in front of the house they went in.”
“Roger,” Kenny said.
“I’m making my turn onto Sixty-Second eastbound,” Toni said. “Kenny, you have the command.”
“Roger.” Kenny loves the military lingo.
“Do it slow but not stupid,” I said.
“Got it,” he said. “I’m just going to call it out. One of you guys can write it down.”
“Good.”
A few seconds later, Kenny started counting the numbers. “6131. . 6135. . 6139. . 6143. . it’s 6147! 6147 Brooklyn.”
“See anyone outside?” I asked.
“Nobody,” he said.
“Good. Keep driving. Toni, can you make a U-turn and sneak back up to keep an eye on the house?”
“Yeah. I’m already on it. I’ll call you when I’m in position.”
Was this the boys’ house or the girls’? I didn’t know, but at least we now had an address. We could stake it out later and try to decide who actually lived there. Meanwhile, I redeployed all the vehicles in preparation for when Martin moved out again. Toni reported from her vantage point that four cars had arrived over the next twenty minutes. Each car was driven by a young black male. Using her binoculars, Toni was able to report that all of the drivers appeared to be in their early twenties. She took license numbers for all of them. Two of the drivers were accompanied by young white girls, neither of whom looked anything like Isabel. We waited. Forty-five minutes later, Toni said, “Here comes Martin and Crystal,” followed a minute later by, “They’re getting in. Doc-you ready?”
“I’m rolling,” he said. Doc was going to take over as command vehicle, this time from behind. We figured that since Martin hadn’t seen Doc’s vehicle in a trail position, it might be our best bet. Toni was going to be backup again, and Kenny was back down on Fifty-Fifth-this time, pointed east.
“They’re heading south,” Toni said.
“I got ’em,” Doc said. “I’ve got command. Just driving past the house. No other apparent activity.”
Martin drove south until he reached Fifty-Fifth, where he turned eastbound. We followed him for another two miles as he worked his way south and east, deeper into the U-District.