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I tried to not keep more than a night’s worth of drugs at the house. Even that was enough to go to prison for a long time. Always planned on getting out. Had a line on a few people who would exchange crypto currency for cash. About the only good way to launder cash these days, but also a risk. Anyone new was a risk.

Risks were many in this business. I was lucky. I hooked up with a Web site where anyone could pay electronically and get drugs left under their doormat. Well, anyone in the suburbs. The group even paid money to have an app developed we could update from the Dark Web. It was a navigation app which alerted you when you were within 100 feet of a school or religious property. The Catholic church and a few other institutions own a lot of property in the area. Under no circumstances did you make a sale or even drive through one of those circles carrying drugs. That was a ten year mandatory minimum. You could avoid that with this app. Everybody has a navigation app on their phone so nobody thinks twice about seeing you with one.

The only risk you couldn’t completely avoid was the new customer. That dude you had never sold to before who looked like a copy and gave you a Chicago handshake. If I couldn’t vet them before they got in my car I always said “your aren’t allowed to tip or pay us in cash.”

Life was good. I paid cash for everything I could, even utility bills. Always paid them through a bank or currency exchange. Never with a check through the mail. Still, there was a nagging feeling something was going to go horribly wrong. I couldn’t put my finger on it. I stopped taking new customers and even tapered off when it came to the rural deliveries.

Ping went the app. It pulled me out of my funk. What has never ceased to amaze me is how lost I can be in my own little world and still drive in Chicago without hitting anything. My last Tuesday night regular. A tech worker who didn’t like to drink because it left him slow to think in the morning. Instead he toked some joints to get a happy buzz and woke up able to go to work the next day.

“Hey Jay!” he said as he climbed in and shook my hand.

“You just getting off work?” I asked socially.

“Yeah. It’s going to be a rough two weeks. Glad you made it” he sighed.

When I handed him the half pound of premium Mary Jane I felt the cuff go over my wrist.

“Sorry man, it’s a job” he said. Almost sounded sincere. Not that it mattered that much to me. His coworkers were already at the doors pulling me out.

That was how it ended for me. Half a pound of weed to a guy who had been buying for six months. I struggled with just how to tell the next part of this story for a long time. All of the details of my interrogation would bore the ordinary citizen and probably read like an instruction manual. Here is the only piece of information anyone would probably remember anyway.

Always make certain the camera is on and interject phrases about “cops making quota” into every response. The old guys won’t care, initially. Young guys will trip first. If they hit you in the face and you are an easy bleeder, that’s it, game over. Nothing on tape or that you said is admissible . . . if you have a good lawyer. With a public defender you’re going to jail no matter what. The cops will even change the address of where they busted you so it is within 100 feet of a church or school to get you the ten year mandatory minimum.

I never got Miranda, or a phone call. I did, however, get a lawyer. My girlfriend came by my place after work to find cops taking the place apart. They showed her a warrant. She went and slept at her place. In the morning she made a phone call to the lawyer’s office I had made her write down. She made an appointment then went to the bank and took out a bunch of that cash I had been giving her. That paid for the lawyer.

When my lawyer showed up he ended the interrogation. It was kind of easy given my bleeding lip. His office had already filed paperwork to obtain the interrogation video. When he entered the camera was still on. He had also sued the city before and won so they knew they couldn’t jerk him around on the video.

My lawyer didn’t want me to talk to anyone, especially not him. He had a cookie cutter deal the bulk of his clients got and that is what I was going to get whether I wanted it or not. Any good lawyer would have wanted to hear about my not getting Miranda. With that they could void all testimony and the search warrant. I later found they claimed I said stuff during interrogation to get the warrant. They had already tossed my place before they came to interrogate me. Details, details.

The cookie cutter deal my lawyer forced on me was a plea bargain. The authorities would keep everything they took from me and I would spend six months in a specific drug rehab program. If the rehab program did not accept me or I got kicked out I would go to prison. If I had anything to do with the drug trade ever again I would get 16 years without parole. Oh, I also couldn’t have anything to do with ride share programs or delivery services for the next ten years.

No one person in the station, including my lawyer, ever bothered to ask me if I did drugs.

I was released on my own recognizance and given a sheet of paper with the address of the rehab program, time to report on Monday, person to ask for and what to bring. There was also a second sheet of what not to bring.

Stupid people get released like that and run straight to a stash. It’s one of the reasons such deals get cut. The cops are going to tail you to see if they overlooked something.

The other reason is the cops just wanted your money. The police retirement fund and the city always want the money. Federal law lets them seize it as well as cars and homes. The property they auction off to put even more money into both funds. It’s not about stopping crime or keeping the city safe. It’s about getting rich the mob way. Welcome to Chicago.

All my cash was gone, but they had to leave me my cash station and credit cards. I’m pretty certain they froze those accounts before I got the deal. Remember what I said about tailing? They are looking for your support mechanism. They are also looking to put you back in jail within 24 hours for a different crime, thus negating your deal. Anyone you reach out to will forever be in their database as your “known associate.” Taking all your cash and freezing your accounts is how they either identify your most loyal known associate or put you right back in jail for another crime.

My lawyer handed me a manilla envelop as we got to the street outside.

“Don’t be late on Monday” he growled.

“You know I never got Miranda” I replied in a less cheerful voice.

“I don’t give a shit!” spat my lawyer as he strode away to his car and driver. Yeah, he went to his car and driver without offering to give me a fucking lift. Welcome to lawyers in Chicago. I suppose I should be glad this one bothered to show.

There were two brothers from Illinois living down in Florida running drugs with a boat. Everything was good with their small boat but one brother got greedy and talked the other into getting a big boat. One with a cabin and everything. They were taking turns taking the boat out into the water under the stories of “private party” and “professional fishing trips” while mostly fishing bails of drugs left floating out there and bringing them back to shore.

A bigger boat caught the attention of the DEA. They stormed it. The brother on the boat locked the cabin door and tossed the key over before the DEA could reach the boat. When they DEA told him to unlock the door he responded, “You know. I loaned this boat to a friend a while back and he lost the key.” That door shredded like paper. It took the DEA two hours to photograph and cart off the drugs. The other brother heard about what happened on the boat and ran back to Illinois before the sun went down.

Don’t know which one contacted the high powered Chicago defense attorney. I just know the brothers didn’t really speak after that. I just know the lawyer went to Florida and met with the brother in jail.

“You know the DEA froze all of your accounts and has been through your house don’t you” asked the lawyer.

“I assumed as much but my brother should be paying for this” replied his client.

“Should isn’t cash in hand. I don’t work for free” answered the lawyer.

After some hemming and hawing the incarcerated brother came to the realization his own brother, the one who wanted such a big boat, had just fucked him over good. Any cash laying around the house left town with him before the DEA got there. “I do have an emergency fund” he finally admitted.

“Well have someone bring it and then we can talk about your defense” answered the lawyer. Nice people lawyers from Chicago. Nice people indeed.

“There is no one I would trust now, but I will tell you how to get it. It’s back at the house . . ”

“They’ve already taken everything from the house!” screamed the lawyer.

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