Day Eight:
Today’s adventure was not likely to be all that exciting, in fact the file folder made it sound like it was going to be almost boring. A man and woman met, possibly fell in love and were married. She accounted for perhaps 80% of their immediate matrimonial wealth and used her family connections to aid the man in finding a job that would assist in providing the quality of life she wanted. Along the way he began collecting rare and valuable coins, a hobby that quickly turned into a passion. Eventually the two either fell out of love or just grew apart and separated. Then the lawyers got involved and her initial influx of money into their new life together came back to haunt him. He got the house and the car he drove; she got pretty much everything else to include the coin collection which her attorney demonstrated was purchased mostly using returns from investments that were hers. Then suddenly, just before the coins were supposed to be handed over, they were stolen! Uh huh, yes that is believable. Yep, such a likely scenario. A police report was filed, and a very cursory investigation conducted before the case went dormant. Insurance of course paid out on the loss and covered the repair costs for the damage incurred during the alleged break-in, but the coins were simply gone. Lost to the world of larceny and fencing.
The man continued to work but found it difficult to maintain his lifestyle on only his income. He was set on keeping the house but also continued rebuilding his beloved coin collection. This resulted in bills going unpaid, debts being incurred and hard choices having to be made. That’s when he made his first mistake. A different employee of the firm, perhaps a young long-haired computer technician who smells like weed, became aware of an email sent through a fictitious account to a coin dealer in another state. He offered to part with a couple rare-enough coins in exchange for digital currency. The dealer responded with instructions on how to communicate in a more secure manner and the conversation went dark. There was enough info however for my handler to assign me the task of locating the coin collection and reacquiring it. Seems the financial value reimbursed through insurance was not what the Ex-wife wanted; she wanted the coins.
Much like during the laptop and illicit video assignment, I decided my first move was to just head to the house and look around. This person did not hit me as being the sharpest tool in the shed and I imagined just opening a dresser drawer to reveal the coins, simple and easy. I parked the company Durango slightly down the street partially obscured, put on some sunglasses and walked up the door to begin a systematic analysis of the home’s security. The first step in any good assessment is to ring the doorbell and knock loudly. More homes are robbed this way than people are willing to believe. What I did not expect is the man to answer, especially since I had first called his office and was told he was in a meeting and could not be disturbed. This work from home thing just bit me in the ass. Since I was dressed a little nicer than I normally am ‘at work’ and had not donned the vest and clip board disguise I used last time, I simply smiled and said, “I am here to assess the items you have for sale”. As I spoke the man’s eyes grew instantly wide and a wave of initial panic overtook his facial expression. He froze for a moment then hurried me inside the house, shutting and locking the door behind me before looking out the peep hole. I prepared myself to take quick and decisive action, if necessary, but did not feel any sense of danger.
The short mostly bald man said, “Are you the coin dealer?” in a very unsteady voice. I responded “No, I confirm the existence, authenticity and quality of the product for the buyer and the availability of funds for the seller. I ensure a fair and equitable transaction.” Fortunately, this person had watched way too much television and seemingly believed me. The bald man seemed nervous by nature and could not stop talking. He questioned why the buyer had not told him I was coming to which I just said “If you are not interested, I will just be on my way” as I took a step toward the door. He stopped me and asked if I would follow him to his home office. On the way he told me all about the coins and how amazing they were, he asked me if I was a collector and urged me to become one. If I only had $100 in my pocket, I would bet $50 that this was on the autism spectrum and the other $50 that his former wife was not attractive.
The den turned home office was fairly large and mostly wooden, built in shelving full of books and decorative items covered the surface of every wall and surrounded every window. He sat down behind a wooden desk, unlocked and pulled out the middle drawer. I watched his hands closely to make sure nothing happened that required action. Instead of pulling out a weapon or the coins, he produced a long thin piece of metal that resembled a slim-jim used to unlock cars. Rambling on about coins the entire way, he walked over to a decorative piece of wood trim between two built-in bookshelves and inserted the piece of metal until a distinct click sound could be heard. Suddenly the piece of trim came loose, he removed it and set it out of the way. Behind it were 3 small shelves, maybe 7-8” wide and 10” tall, holding what appeared to be small wooden keepsake boxes. He carried one box over to the desk, opened it and produced two hard flat plastic containers that each housed a coin. A tag on each case listed details about the coin, origin, year and material. I wanted to be shocked that this bald man just up and showed some stranger his hidey hole and his illicit coin collection, but I knew better. Common sense was the rarest item in this man’s collection.
I asked if the other boxes contained the rest of his collection, and he could not help but to show them to me. With all three boxes now on the desk, hanging open, he showed them off to me like a proud father would his children. I casually took out my phone and started snapping pictures of the man, his coins and the hiding place as I said, “I thought you reported these stolen?” and watched as the panicked look returned to his face. “Um no, those were different coins” he said as he tried clumsily to gather up the plastic holders and put them back. I advised him to stop and suggested he take a seat away from the desk. He complied and I called my handler, clearly speaking “Yes, I am in his home office with him and the coins, they all seem to be here”. After my handler provided direction, I said to the bald man “Do you want me to call 911 and let the police gather up the coins, or collect the coins for the insurance company and be on my way?” The bald man who looked like he might cry said “What’s the ***damn difference”. I asked if any of the coins were worth more than $2,000 and he replied, “Yes, every one of them”. I estimated the number of coins before replying “Then difference is about 34 felony counts of larceny, insurance fraud and filing a false police report”. He managed a weak “Just take them” before I collected a linen book tote hanging on a hook behind the partially closed door, filled it with the coins and set the wood boxes back on the desk.
I told the man I had no interest in being shot or stabbed in the back as I walked out of his house and requested that he escort me out with his hands in plain sight. He stood up, eyes red and lip quivering, and marched straight for the front door with me a few reactionary paces behind. He unlocked and opened the door, pointed as if I didn’t know the way out and said, “Are the coins really going to the insurance company, or does the bitch get them?” I just said “I don’t know man, if she gets them then she has to give the money back. So probably the insurance company.” Somehow that seemed to make a difference to him. I side-stepped out the door keeping him in my view until the door slammed shut and I made my way back to the Durango as quickly as possible without actually running. Once inside I turned around quickly and sped off in the opposite direction with a lot of expensive coins in my possession. Coins that were on their way to the firm’s safety deposit box.
Today’s adventure was not likely to be all that exciting, in fact the file folder made it sound like it was going to be almost boring. A man and woman met, possibly fell in love and were married. She accounted for perhaps 80% of their immediate matrimonial wealth and used her family connections to aid the man in finding a job that would assist in providing the quality of life she wanted. Along the way he began collecting rare and valuable coins, a hobby that quickly turned into a passion. Eventually the two either fell out of love or just grew apart and separated. Then the lawyers got involved and her initial influx of money into their new life together came back to haunt him. He got the house and the car he drove; she got pretty much everything else to include the coin collection which her attorney demonstrated was purchased mostly using returns from investments that were hers. Then suddenly, just before the coins were supposed to be handed over, they were stolen! Uh huh, yes that is believable. Yep, such a likely scenario. A police report was filed, and a very cursory investigation conducted before the case went dormant. Insurance of course paid out on the loss and covered the repair costs for the damage incurred during the alleged break-in, but the coins were simply gone. Lost to the world of larceny and fencing.
The man continued to work but found it difficult to maintain his lifestyle on only his income. He was set on keeping the house but also continued rebuilding his beloved coin collection. This resulted in bills going unpaid, debts being incurred and hard choices having to be made. That’s when he made his first mistake. A different employee of the firm, perhaps a young long-haired computer technician who smells like weed, became aware of an email sent through a fictitious account to a coin dealer in another state. He offered to part with a couple rare-enough coins in exchange for digital currency. The dealer responded with instructions on how to communicate in a more secure manner and the conversation went dark. There was enough info however for my handler to assign me the task of locating the coin collection and reacquiring it. Seems the financial value reimbursed through insurance was not what the Ex-wife wanted; she wanted the coins.
Much like during the laptop and illicit video assignment, I decided my first move was to just head to the house and look around. This person did not hit me as being the sharpest tool in the shed and I imagined just opening a dresser drawer to reveal the coins, simple and easy. I parked the company Durango slightly down the street partially obscured, put on some sunglasses and walked up the door to begin a systematic analysis of the home’s security. The first step in any good assessment is to ring the doorbell and knock loudly. More homes are robbed this way than people are willing to believe. What I did not expect is the man to answer, especially since I had first called his office and was told he was in a meeting and could not be disturbed. This work from home thing just bit me in the ass. Since I was dressed a little nicer than I normally am ‘at work’ and had not donned the vest and clip board disguise I used last time, I simply smiled and said, “I am here to assess the items you have for sale”. As I spoke the man’s eyes grew instantly wide and a wave of initial panic overtook his facial expression. He froze for a moment then hurried me inside the house, shutting and locking the door behind me before looking out the peep hole. I prepared myself to take quick and decisive action, if necessary, but did not feel any sense of danger.
The short mostly bald man said, “Are you the coin dealer?” in a very unsteady voice. I responded “No, I confirm the existence, authenticity and quality of the product for the buyer and the availability of funds for the seller. I ensure a fair and equitable transaction.” Fortunately, this person had watched way too much television and seemingly believed me. The bald man seemed nervous by nature and could not stop talking. He questioned why the buyer had not told him I was coming to which I just said “If you are not interested, I will just be on my way” as I took a step toward the door. He stopped me and asked if I would follow him to his home office. On the way he told me all about the coins and how amazing they were, he asked me if I was a collector and urged me to become one. If I only had $100 in my pocket, I would bet $50 that this was on the autism spectrum and the other $50 that his former wife was not attractive.
The den turned home office was fairly large and mostly wooden, built in shelving full of books and decorative items covered the surface of every wall and surrounded every window. He sat down behind a wooden desk, unlocked and pulled out the middle drawer. I watched his hands closely to make sure nothing happened that required action. Instead of pulling out a weapon or the coins, he produced a long thin piece of metal that resembled a slim-jim used to unlock cars. Rambling on about coins the entire way, he walked over to a decorative piece of wood trim between two built-in bookshelves and inserted the piece of metal until a distinct click sound could be heard. Suddenly the piece of trim came loose, he removed it and set it out of the way. Behind it were 3 small shelves, maybe 7-8” wide and 10” tall, holding what appeared to be small wooden keepsake boxes. He carried one box over to the desk, opened it and produced two hard flat plastic containers that each housed a coin. A tag on each case listed details about the coin, origin, year and material. I wanted to be shocked that this bald man just up and showed some stranger his hidey hole and his illicit coin collection, but I knew better. Common sense was the rarest item in this man’s collection.
I asked if the other boxes contained the rest of his collection, and he could not help but to show them to me. With all three boxes now on the desk, hanging open, he showed them off to me like a proud father would his children. I casually took out my phone and started snapping pictures of the man, his coins and the hiding place as I said, “I thought you reported these stolen?” and watched as the panicked look returned to his face. “Um no, those were different coins” he said as he tried clumsily to gather up the plastic holders and put them back. I advised him to stop and suggested he take a seat away from the desk. He complied and I called my handler, clearly speaking “Yes, I am in his home office with him and the coins, they all seem to be here”. After my handler provided direction, I said to the bald man “Do you want me to call 911 and let the police gather up the coins, or collect the coins for the insurance company and be on my way?” The bald man who looked like he might cry said “What’s the ***damn difference”. I asked if any of the coins were worth more than $2,000 and he replied, “Yes, every one of them”. I estimated the number of coins before replying “Then difference is about 34 felony counts of larceny, insurance fraud and filing a false police report”. He managed a weak “Just take them” before I collected a linen book tote hanging on a hook behind the partially closed door, filled it with the coins and set the wood boxes back on the desk.
I told the man I had no interest in being shot or stabbed in the back as I walked out of his house and requested that he escort me out with his hands in plain sight. He stood up, eyes red and lip quivering, and marched straight for the front door with me a few reactionary paces behind. He unlocked and opened the door, pointed as if I didn’t know the way out and said, “Are the coins really going to the insurance company, or does the bitch get them?” I just said “I don’t know man, if she gets them then she has to give the money back. So probably the insurance company.” Somehow that seemed to make a difference to him. I side-stepped out the door keeping him in my view until the door slammed shut and I made my way back to the Durango as quickly as possible without actually running. Once inside I turned around quickly and sped off in the opposite direction with a lot of expensive coins in my possession. Coins that were on their way to the firm’s safety deposit box.
