Whi’ Boy

Halloran says, “There's the matter of evidence. The guy bringing the stuff into the area sells what he brings in right away and we can’t catch him with the stuff.”
The solution is pellucidly simple, however, Halloran is not the brightest bulb in the display. It's difficult to deal with adults such as Halloran. However, if I speak slowly, clearly and explain things that should be obvious to a mentally retarded three year old child, at least some of my ideas get through. Before I explain the simple solution to Halloran, I manage to extract an agreement that, in exchange for a solution to his problem he'll permanently abandon any and all of his baseless charges against me regarding the alleged ripping off of retail drug operations in LA.
I lecture to Halloran, “As is well known in the street, big boy drives in from where ever in his large, flashy Cadillac. He has three heavily armed goons riding shotgun. He meets briefly with local wholesalers at unknown locations that change frequently. He buys the product at bulk, wholesale rates and then sells the product, at a nice markup, to retail dealers for cash. By the end of a typical night, he has sold all of his product and he drops off the goons and then drives home. If he hasn't sold all of his product by a certain time, he drives up North and sells the overage to another major distributor, then he drops off the goons and drives home.”
Halloran says, “That's the problem.”
I lecture, “That's the solution. Big boy has demonstrated a need to get rid of the product he imports. He has a limited number of buyers. He doesn't take his goons home with him.”
Halloran asks, “So what?”
I lecture, “On delivery days, usually Wednesdays, armored cars appear early at certain local bank branches and then return again later. The only realistic purpose of the dual delivery schedule is the delivery of substantial amounts of cash to local branches. The situation is widely known.”
Halloran says, “Yeah, the drug cash. We know about that.”
I say, “The LAPD arrests the local drug wholesalers and the major distributor up North.”
Halloran says, “Right. And their lawyers get them out the same day.”
I say, “However, too late for them to get cash from the bank.”
Halloran’s few active brain cells work furiously, he says, “Then big boy can’t sell his product!” (For Halloran, this is a major intellectual effort!)
I continue to lecture, “He also can’t take it home with him, because ...”
Halloran’s few functioning brain cells go into overdrive and he says, “Because his wife gets very upset if he brings dope home. So, he'll instead go to visit one of his girl friends.”
I continue to lecture, “Not one of his girl friends. His 'ya ya' girl is too flaky. His close by girl lives with her mother. His mistress, however, lives in a respectable neighborhood where he can park overnight without causing suspicion that he's up to anything, other than getting a shot of leg.”
Halloran says, “Okay, but we still can’t legally search the car.”
I continue to lecture, “The LAPD has access to any number of people who can open the trunk of the Caddy with no traces. Then a car, better a truck, lightly smacks the parked Caddy, causing the trunk to 'spring open.' A cruising black and white spots the hit and run accident and stops to investigate. The two officers in the black and white spot what appears to be packages of dope in the trunk of the Caddy.”
Halloran says, “They call me on the radio. I just happen to be nearby. I find the dope. I make a major drug arrest and all's again well!”
Halloran is happy and goes away. Fortunately, he doesn't see a major point of my plan. (Actually, I was depending upon the fact that Halloran wouldn't see said point. They also serve who have no real clue as to what goes on in the world about them! Halloran is well qualified in the latter area.)
On the fateful day, the trap snaps shut! Several local drug dealers are arrested and locked up.