Chapter 4
Later that morning, Hardcastle and Mark visited with Frank, who had asked them to come in and sign some statements on a bust they had worked together on recently. Entering Frank's office, Mark breezily sank down on a chair, one leg looped over the arm of it.
"Hey, Milt, Mark," Frank greeted them. "Thanks for coming in."
"No problem," Hardcastle responded.
"Yeah, gave me a break from the hedges," Mark added. "And from being the only one doing work around the estate while someone else is chatting about the good old days for hours …"
"Good old days?" Frank repeated with a puzzled frown.
Hardcastle shot Mark an exasperated look. "Oh, he's just sore because we have a house visitor, an old friend of Tommy's who is staying with us for a few days. They don't really get along. I think McCormick is just jealous."
"Jealous? Of Matt? Not likely," Mark returned hotly. "It's just that he's sloppy and leaves a mess everywhere. I mean, is it so hard to put the dishes in the sink? And then he eats everything. Geez, I bought a pound of sliced ham a few days ago and when I went to make a sandwich yesterday it was down to two slices. Two! And because he's too delicate, morning basketball has been reduced to kiddie play time –"
"Oh, it's not that bad!" Hardcastle interrupted. "You just don't like having competition. If you'd just open up a little, you might learn something from him –"
"About what? How to eat your host out of a month's worth of groceries in a week? How to conveniently forget your wallet when you go out to dinner and make your host pay? How to leave wet towels sitting on the bathroom floor? How to –"
A shrill whistle suddenly stopped them both. Frank gave them a stern look. "Both of you, calm down! Now, I called you down here for a reason, not to hear you bickering at each other. Can we please get down to business?"
Mark bit his lip. "Sorry, Frank," he said sheepishly, subsiding back onto the chair.
"Yeah, Frank, sorry," Hardcastle muttered, shooting one more glare at Mark before sitting down himself.
Frank nodded and handed them both some documents. "Read them over carefully and indicate any needed changes, then sign it."
A few moments of silence prevailed as both Mark and the Judge read through their statements, neither one finding anything that needed to be changed. Handing over the signed documents back to Frank, Hardcastle gave him a long look. Frank looked preoccupied and discouraged.
"Okay, Frank, so what's bothering you?" Hardcastle asked.
Frank shrugged and rubbed his eyes wearily. "Well, since you asked … there's word on the street that a new drug player is in the area with a new drug that is very dangerous. We're trying to pull out all the stops to get a handle on this quickly. But you know the drug world … no one wants to talk and everyone wants a piece of the action." He looked at Hardcastle consideringly. "I know, Milt, that you recently were looking at the file on Sammy Porter, who you sent to prison back in '78 and is now back out on the street. He might know something about this."
Hardcastle scratched his nose with a sigh. "Yeah, I heard he might be back to dealing again. Thought maybe McCormick could go undercover and see if he could find his supplier, but we haven't gotten that far yet."
Frank nodded, his face grim. "Well, I don't think we can wait too long. Seems the drug trade has really escalated in the past couple weeks. Two kids from the local high school overdosed on the new drug, and we've had three deaths from known drug users as well, with another currently in critical condition at the hospital and not expected to make it. It's very potent and we need to stop the supply now before anyone else is affected. We've already set up a task force."
Mark sat up straighter. "That's awful. What is this drug?"
"Well, it's still being analyzed, but it appears it's a derivative of heroin, but much stronger. Word is that it's called "MP," for magic powder. Creates a high very quickly. But as it's new, people don't understand how strong it is, so they are likely to use the same amount as they normally would for other drugs, and that's far more than they can do with this one without suffering serious consequences. Less than a teaspoon can give someone heart palpitations, raise their blood pressure, and cause a cardiac event."
Hardcastle gave a heavy sigh. "Wish I understood why people want to use drugs in the first place. How can we help, Frank?"
Frank smiled. "Thanks for the offer. Sit tight for now. We don't want to interfere with anything that is being done. I'll check with the task force and see if there's something you can help with."
On the drive back to Gulls Way, Hardcastle slanted a look at Mark, who was strangely silent, staring out at the coastline. "Something on your mind, kiddo?"
Mark opened his mouth, then closed it, unsure he could state his concerns without offending Hardcastle. The judge looked at him in mild amusement, witnessing a sight he not often saw – Mark at a loss for words. He coughed and said, "Matt told me what he said to you this morning. He had no right to say those things to you, kiddo. I just want you to know that I set him straight."
Mark exhaled slowly. "Thanks, Judge," he said quietly. He gazed at the passing scenery for a few moments, then asked hesitantly, "How well do you know Matt?"
Hardcastle pursed his lips in thought. "Well, he and Tommy met in kindergarten, and he was Tommy's friend for about 10 years. They were pretty close, and he was always over at our estate. God, I can still see them out there, throwing a football or playing in the pool or getting into some kind of mischief …" His voice drifted as a wistful smile tilted his lips, but then he shook himself and cleared his throat before continuing. "His father worked for an investment strategy firm, and he'd been doing pretty well – they had a fairly large estate a couple miles away – but the place eventually went bankrupt because of an embezzlement scandal and the family lost most of its money. It was a hard time for them. It's not easy going from a comfortable lifestyle to one where you're barely scraping by."
"Yeah, I can see where that would be difficult," Mark murmured. "How did Matt cope with that?"
"Not too well at first. He was a good kid, but he started slacking off at school and associating with some troublemakers and being a bit rebellious – you know, acting out. Guess he needed an outlet for his frustrations." Hardcastle sighed. "He and Tommy kinda drifted apart a bit then; Tommy didn't like what Matt was doing and who he was hanging out with. And then the family had to move away, shortly after the boys graduated from high school. Far as I know, they didn't keep in touch much after that."
Mark nodded. "Makes sense. Did Matt get in any … ah, real trouble?" He tried to ask that casually, but as usual, the judge was quick to pick up on the nuance.
Hardcastle frowned and shot him a hard look. "Why the third degree?" he asked sharply.
Mark thought fast. "No third degree, Judge, just curiosity. I just thought he and I might have more in common than I initially thought."
"More in common … you mean jail?" Hardcastle's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Look, sport, he had some tough times, and he did get in with the wrong crowd for a while, but he straightened things out and is doing really well now."
"No, I meant that he struggled a bit when he was younger, and had some bad influences around him, and I just wondered if that was kinda like me," Mark returned hastily, hoping he sounded sincere, even as he was telling himself, No way Matt didn't get into real trouble, that guy has former con written all over him. But he couldn't say that to the Judge, at least not yet, not until he had some proof.
"Oh." Hardcastle relaxed and sent him a rueful look. "Sorry, kiddo. Jumped the gun there. Yeah, I guess maybe you two are a little alike in some ways."
"Forget it," Mark mumbled, sinking deeper into his seat. He felt bad that the judge was apologizing for a conclusion he wasn't wrong about.
"Look, I know it's been a little hard having him there all the time, and you two haven't exactly been best buddies, but it's only for a few more days, and then he'll be gone and we'll get things back to normal."
"Like guerrilla basketball and John Wayne movie nights?" Mark grinned.
Hardcastle smiled back. "Yeah …"
