Page 137 of In Cold Blood
“We’ve got a flurry of movement at the loading dock,” a reply came back.
“Okay, hold. Keep recording.”
Everything would be used.
Although Noah had expected an arrest to be made sooner, it confirmed the corroborating evidence. Now he was keen to see how they’d done it the last time they had the search warrant. It was all a simple matter of collecting more evidence. The more they had, the more likely it would hold up in court.
“Trucks are pulling out,” Coslo said. “Coming your way.”
“Let them get beyond Main Street and then take them down,” Noah said.
Those final minutes felt like hours. Perspiration trickled down his face as he stared at an officer who had a drone flying overhead. The cop stared at the unit in front of him on his lap.Noah smiled. Technology made it easy for them and that much harder for criminals. He had to give it to those involved, they had done one hell of a job.
“It’s a go!” the cop said.
One of the SWAT team banged on the van and that was all it took.
What happened next occurred fast. The idling truck lurched forward and within less than a minute came to an abrupt stop. Voices over the comms unit revealed the sudden wave of State, Sheriff’s Office, and local PD moving in on other trucks heading in different directions, along with law enforcement raiding the island and the brewery.
Doors swung open.
SWAT climbed out with Noah in tow. Commands were given. The driver got out and was brought to the ground and cuffed. A SWAT officer opened up the back of the truck to reveal the cargo. Crates and crates of wine, beer, and spirits all with the brewery’s label — High Peaks Brewery.
One by one they pulled down crates and Axel went to work.
As expected, among the many crates full of real alcohol were bottles filled with liquid morphine. Right there and then, Narcotics Officer Michael Bailey from High Peaks PD did a simple opiate roadside test to confirm it.
“It’s positive!”
It was the news Noah wanted.
The arreststhat followed were swift.
Noah was outside the brewery talking to Ray as they hauled out Harry Carter that evening. The sight of his sorry ass in handcuffs brought a smile to his face. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer!” he shouted. Axel barked. Although they’dmanaged to remove the bottles of morphine, the machinery still held a residue and the property was full of evidence this time.
Noah couldn’t resist.
After Harry was placed in the back of a cruiser, he approached and opened the door. Expletives were hurled at Noah, threats that his career in law enforcement would be over and that he would suffer public ridicule.
“You done?” Noah said, a grin forming as he leaned on the car door and peered in. “I have to admit this was probably one of the savviest narcotics enterprises I’ve ever seen. Using genetically modified yeast to brew liquid morphine and then distribute it in brewery bottles from convenience stores run by those you invited to the island. How convenient.”
Harry narrowed his eyes. “Fuck you!”
All Noah could do was relish the sight of him in cuffs. “I mean, who would even imagine it could be done, let alone consider a local brewery using their equipment and then transporting it all in liquor trucks? The ability to transport narcotics under the nose of police all over the country, I mean who wouldn’t want that?” He eyed him. “Operation Heat Wave… who needs that, right? That’s just low-hanging fruit that you didn’t care about. Not when there was big money to be made with home-brew opiates. It’s crazy to think that anyone with access to specific yeast strains and basic skills in fermentation could create morphine. Ten grams of morphine. An addict would only need one or two milliliters of liquid to get a standard dose. It’s a gold mine! Illegal. But a gold mine, nonetheless.” He paused as a smile formed. “And to think, such a brilliant idea was outsmarted by a K-9. A little old dog.”
“Screw you! You haven’t heard the last from me! I will take your job. I will…”
“Have a good evening, Mr. Carter!”
Noah slammed the door with satisfaction, shutting out the sound of his cursing.
“You got pleasure out of that, didn’t you?” Callie said with a smile, sidling up to him as he made his way back to the Bronco.
“Sure did.” He chuckled.
Her smile vanished. “So they took him in.”
“That’s right.”
