BROKEN BOARDS, CHAPTER 13
BROKEN BOARDS, CHAPTER 13
A Jake Jansen Mystery.
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CHAPTER THIRTEEN - DIGGING FOR LEADS
Jake pulled the bright orange Blazer into the Kahala Mall, navigating through the parking lot to locate a spot close to the entrance. No sooner did Jake turn off the vehicle when his phone, sitting in the center console, buzzed and beeped. It continued buzzing until he picked it up, glanced at it, opened it, and answered.
“KK, what’s ….”
“Okay, yeah, we’ll come right away. See you in a few,” Jake said as he hung up. “Kona said he has something he wants to see and doesn’t think we should wait. Looking at the address he gave earlier, it doesn’t appear to be too far from here.”
Twelve minutes later, Jake pulled the Blazer up to the curb outside of Kona’s house. The Jansens hurried to the front door, where they found Kona waiting to let them inside. Jack entered, and Jake followed closely behind, removing their shoes as they glanced around the home. The home was well-lit and minimalist in its style, with simple furnishings and decorations. There weren’t many colors to be seen. The house seemed empty and quiet. Kona nodded to Jake’s father.
“Nice to see you again, Mr. Jansen. Welcome,” he said with a pause. “My parents are in Japan for business. My father works with some of the technology companies based in Tokyo,” Kona said. “My mother tags along for a free vacation,” he said, smiling as he led them down the hallway to his bedroom. “They trust me to be a responsible adult.”
Passing down the hallway, father and son both took notice of the family photos that hung on both walls before making a left into Kona’s bedroom toward the back of the house.
Kona’s bedroom was completely different from the rest of the house. There were a few posters of surfers and Hawai’ian girls in bikinis adorning the walls. The room was noticeably cooler in temperature, as a small fan sat under his desk, while a swamp cooler in the window blew cold air into the room, and the ceiling fan circulated the air. His bed hugged the wall on the immediate right upon entering, with a half-open closet taking up most of the left wall, while a standup corner desk took up all the space in the back of the room under the window. Twin large PC units were sitting under the desk on a hard plastic floor covering. Three large monitors sat atop the desk. Computer books sat on the shelves to the right above the desk.
“Man, KK, that’s some setup you have,” Jake said, pointing at the various screens. He noted that all three screens had different programs running, providing different data.
“But what are we looking at?” Jake asked.
“Before you answer that, Kona, my question is, do I want to know the answer? Do I want to know how you got this information?” Jack said through a bit of concerned, nervous laughter.
“Probably not, Mr. Jansen,” Kona said through a forced, cringing smile.
“So, I digitally enhanced and cleaned up the image you sent. I uploaded it and ran it through a software that I created that does system crawling of various law-enforcement databases. It also scans black-market sites, plus ….”
“Law enforcement databases?!?” Jack asked with nervous concern.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Jansen. Non-traceable. What I did was bounce the …,” Kona said before pausing for a moment. He realized he was talking into blank faces who wouldn’t understand the explanation. “I’ll save you the gruesome details.”
“Why black-market websites?” Jake asked.
“Because people sell stuff, including fingerprints and identities,” Jack replied. He looked at Kona for a moment and smiled. “I have to admit, Kona, that’s good thinking.”
“Thank you, Mr. Jansen. So, I started locally, and that turned up nothing. I moved up to Federal, which still didn’t turn up anything. So, I widened the net. I hit every agency I could find that I thought might turn something up. And tada, I found something.”
Kona moved over to the desk and started typing, clicking the mouse, and dragging screens as Jack and Jake watched him work. He brought up two specific screens, placing them on the monitors so they would be easier to view.
“Jose Silva, aka Jose Silver aka Joseph Silva aka Joseph Silver, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Known middleman with a lengthy rap sheet. But here’s the thing, he does a lot of traffic work for Salvador Santos, a kingpin who runs a BIG-TIME drug ring down there. You name it, and he’s moved it in some form – drugs, guns, money, more drugs.”
“Mary said that she was able to pull up the make on the knife when pulling prints. It was a Zebu brand pocketknife made in ….”
“Let me guess, Brazil?” Jake asked.
“Bingo,” Jack said, snapping his fingers. “But based on what Kona is saying, it sounds like this could all be about drugs.” Everyone was quiet for a moment before Kona spoke up again.
“But then look at this, Jake,” Kona said as he returned to working on the computer. “I was able to find arrest photos, ID photos, and passport information. But here’s the kicker that was the wow moment I wanted you both to see.” Kona opened the photo imaging software and then located a specific file. He worked on enhancing the image. He worked on it for a moment before Jack and Jake both realized it was an image captured from the Kahala Mall video. He zoomed in and enhanced the clarity and crispness. Kona moved the image up next to the screen where he had all the ID photos of Jose Silva. It was a perfect match.
Jake stared at the screen for a moment and seethed with anger.
“Jake, you don’t think that Rabbit…,” Jack asked.
“Dad, no! Absolutely not! There’s no way!” Jake said emphatically.
“Okay, okay, son. I believe you. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Funny you should ask, Mr. Jansen, because the trail doesn’t end there. I continued to follow the breadcrumbs. Santos moves some guns and more money, but it’s mostly drugs. A lot of drugs. Appears he moves them all over Brazil, some other parts of South America, into Central America, and is looking to apparently expand his territory.”
“But HOW is he doing it?” Jack asked. There was a brief pause.
“Salvador Santos owns a string of surf shops,” Kona said triumphantly.
“Oh my god!” Jake said. “He was killed for a surfboard with drugs in it!”
“Santos has shops up and down the seaboard in Central and South America,” Kona continued. “According to the information I found in one of the Brazilian law enforcement databases that I cross-referenced on an underground Brazilian black-market website; he’s moving drugs inside his boards for a long time. He’s moving enough money to bribe customs in various locations while also continuing to perfect his system, keeping the drugs away from not only the watchful eye of law enforcement but also the strong noses of drug dogs. And then there’s this ….”
“Wait, you speak Brazilian, KK?” Jake asked.
“Portuguese. And no. Google translate,” he said with a smile.
“Does that mean people in Portugal speak Brazilian?” Jake asked.
“Jake, there’s no such language as Brazilian,” his father commented.
Kona typed out some more stuff on the computer, opened another screen, and pulled up an image.
“Hey! I recognize that! It’s one of the decals that I couldn’t figure out the brand that was on Rabbit’s new board!” Jake said.
“That’s how he marks his product. The people moving his cargo know what that means and what to do with it.”
“Wait, does that mean Ken Mitchell is trafficking?” Jake asked, looking at his Dad. “I’ve known Ken for years. He would never.”
“Things aren’t always what they seem, Jake,” Jack stated. “Nor are people always who you think they are. Especially when it involves money. It’s not unreasonable to think that a drug kingpin wanting to expand his empire would be predatory. Doing his homework, finding a person who needs the money, and making that arrangement. We won’t know until we get some more answers. There’s still a lot of things to sort through. But this picture is getting clearer. It’s also getting a lot more dangerous. I’m going to speak to Mike Kalama and get his thoughts. We should probably get the proper authorities involved or, at the very least, get some more help before we’re in a mess we can’t get out of.”
“While you go talk to Chief, I’ll go to IVS and talk to Ken,” Jake replied.
“I should go with you.”
“Dad, it’s okay. It’s in the mall in broad daylight. Nothing will happen to me. I’ll ask some general questions, maybe give him enough rope to hang himself and see if he slips up.”
“I don’t like it, but okay. Just keep me in the loop.”
Jack and Jake thanked Kona for all his help and said they’d be in touch. Heading outside, they climbed into the Blazer.
“Jake, let’s be very careful with how we handle everything from here on out. I’ve been a little loose with the reins, but this is getting deep. This is more than just a petty disagreement at a surf break. When you start talking a lot of drugs and a ton of money, bodies start piling up.”
“I got it, Dad. I promise I’ll be careful. I’ll drop you back home so you can get in touch with Chief Kalama. I’ll head over to see Ken. It would probably look better if it’s just me anyway. Then it will look like I’m just in there asking about boards.”
“Unfortunately, you make a good point. Let’s get going.”
Jake fired up the orange beast, pulled away from Kona’s house, and headed toward home.