Chapters (95)
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Eighty-One
- Eighty-Two
- Eighty-Three
- Eighty-Four
- Eighty-Five
- Eighty-Six
- Eighty-Seven
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- Also by David Swinson
- Thank you for buying this ebook, published by Hachette Digital.
The vehicle’s trunk pops open as he makes his way behind it. It looks like a small flat-screen and what might be a large suitcase are loaded in the trunk. I grab a digital camera with a long lens from my backpack. I start snapping pictures of the driver through the closed driver’s-side window and of the scruffy guy pulling out the flat-screen and carrying it to the front door. He returns to grab the large suitcase, struggles to get it out, and when he does he wheels it over to set it beside the TV.
He opens the door, but before he can enter Wendland appears inside and looks like he’s blocking him.
Wendland shakes his head and points back to the cab, like he’s refusing to take him in. After dealing with Hurley, and maybe a bit of me, Wendland is smart enough not to buy anything that might be stolen—for a little while, anyway.
The dude raises his hands in the air and mouths something that I’m sure has the word fucking in it. They go back and forth for a couple of minutes. The scraggly one signals to the cabbie with some inaudible words and a shake of his head. Wendland shuts the door, and that’s the last I see of him.
The trunk pops back open, and the fiend wheels the suitcase back, then struggles to lift it and stuff it back into the trunk. He gets the flat-screen in, too, slams the trunk, and returns to open the left rear passenger door and slide in.
I focus with my binos now on the driver. His head is turned back, as they seem to be talking. Can’t really make him out. Shortly after, the cab pulls from the curb. I wait a second, then follow.
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Seven
I’m not sure if that’s Graham Biddy in back, but I’m certain that’s the cab that dropped him off at Thrift World with my property.
It’s before lunch. Traffic is light. That can work for me and against me. I like another vehicle to hide behind occasionally. Ideally you want a couple more cars when you’re tailing someone; I don’t have that luxury. If you’re solo like me, the only thing you have to worry about is keeping the right distance and not letting the suspect see you twice at different locations. Then again, the suspect has to be paying attention. Lot of these knuckleheads don’t even think about it.
The cabbie makes his way to U Street, turns left onto 14th, going south. Just before Thomas Circle he hangs a U-turn, slows down, and double-parks in front of a small convenience store. I stay back, pull to the curb next to a hydrant.