Lester Crockett tried to get additional personnel to do the job on Frank Little's warehouse, but Washington reminded him that he was already over budget; he would have to make do with the men he had. So he did the next best thing: He cut a deal with the local office of the Drug Enforcement Administration.
"I don't like it any more than you do," he told Harker. "But we'll have to live with it."
The deal took a long afternoon of often rancorous argument to arrange, but eventually an agreement was hammered out that had as many compromises as the Treaty of Ghent.
The DEA would take over surveillance of FL Sports Equipment, Inc., and responsibility for tracing the Haitian source of the coke-filled baseballs and trailing the vans and trucks that picked them up at the warehouse. In return, the DEA agreed not to bust the operation or collar Frank Little without Crockett's prior notification and approval. Hiram Johnson, one of Crockett's men and Roger Fortescue's buddy, was assigned to liaise with the DEA's investigative team.
So it happened that on a blustery night in late November, Fortescue conducted Johnson to his hideaway in the deserted fast-food joint adjacent to Little's warehouse. The hurricane season had ended, but the weather had turned mean and brutal. A northwest wind was driving gusts of cold rain, and both men were drenched before they could duck into the restaurant, Roger leading the way with his lantern.
"Loverly," Johnson said, peering around. "Perfect for weddings and bar mitzvahs."
Fortescue showed him the office where boards covering the window could be moved apart to provide a clear view of the goings-on at FL Sports Equipment.
"All the comforts of home," Roger pointed out. "I even dragged in this swell crate so your guys will have a place to sit while they peep."
"Primitive," Johnson said. "Definitely primitive. But as they say in real estate circles, the only three things that count are location, location, and location."
Within a week, the DEA, working through a dummy corporation, had leased the empty building and were ostensibly converting it into a new restaurant. A sign went up-finny fun-and underneath a promise that read "Coming Soon: Fresh Fish."
The exterior renovation went slowly; the outside of the building showed little change. But inside, in the small office, DEA specialists built a fully equipped command post with telephones, two-way radios, video cameras, bunks for two men, a hot plate, and enough canned provisions to feed a regiment. The toilet was put back into working order, power was restored, and the kitchen faucets flowed.
The cameras were the first equipment installed, and were put into use immediately with hypersensitive film to record nighttime activities. The arrival and departure of vans and trucks taking delivery of Little's baseballs were radioed to teams of agents parked along Copans Road, and the shadowing began.
Having played his role, Roger Fortescue ambled into Anthony Harker's office.
"I guess I'm out of a job," he said. "Not quite," Tony said. "How would you like to go to Lakeland?"