Page 137 of Oddly Fine

Hayes proceeded to explain this from Mario’s point of view. “Of course not. See if I’m Mario, then—I’m not new to the game, and I know that the DEA and the FBI are all up in my business. They leave my family alone because they like the way we handle our drug trade, but if they get wind of how I’m adding people as a new line item to my trafficking business, then things are going to go south fast. Besides, my nephew and niece are onto me, and I don’t trust them.”

“So you need another way in,” Beckett quickly surmised because now he too could see how Mario was operating. Like a perfectly drawn map, the lines were now connecting.

“Exactly. So, I do the unexpected. I give a legitimate business contract to the guy I know can get me the live cargo I want, and I conceal them from the authorities via priceless artifacts I can list on the shipping manifests,” Hayes explained.

“Hold up—” Matthew said, raising a hand to get Hayes’ attention. “Priceless artifacts? Are you suggesting—”

Hayes nodded and said, “Think about it. According to Jovan, they get regular shipments of broken doors, windows and hardware, along with coffins. They come in together, yet, the coffins are then loaded into armoured trucks and driven off separately. Except now we know that they end up at the factory and the armoured trucks are left unlocked . Why? Since the coffins are transported on the same cargo ship as the building supplies, why separate them on way to the same factory only to later abandon routine security measures and leave the precious cargo unattended?”

“Because the blond girl got out while they transported her,” Beckett answered with a heavy sigh.

“Blond girl?” Franklin asked, confused.

Beckett ignored him and Hayes continued his explanation.

“Mario transports the victims in an armoured vehicle, so they won’t get a repeat of what happened in New York, and then drives the coffins to the factory, and to the wellness center as well. The coffins are the perfect way to keep the victims hidden from view if the vehicles are ever stopped and inspected by law enforcement or government officials.”

“Hold up—you’re saying—you think the Serbian Mafia is shipping people to Mario Rosario by putting them inside of coffins?” Franklin asked, looking stunned. To be fair, he’d missed out on quite a few of the previous episodes in this series.

“Yes,” Hayes said, with a nod. “When his victims get out of the truck, he brings them to the wellness center—collects their stem cells, and when that’s done, he puts them back in the coffins and sends them to the factory. I think that’s what you heard at the meeting—” he added, pointing to Beckett. “You thought Mario’s assistant was talking about the loading docks in the parking garage, but I think the truck was supposed to be heading to the docks on the St. Lawrence, but road construction interfered with the plan. There were too many street closures and they had to wait until the end of the workday before they could get there. That’s why his assistant was pissed.”

“Why the factory?” Matthew asked, still hazy on some of the details. “Since we own the wellness center, and condos, why add the factory to the mix?”

“Because where better to hide live cargo than a condemned basement that won’t appear on any city plans and the building is owned by a legitimate business that won’t raise any suspicion if the feds come sniffing around?” Hayes took a deep breath at the end, looking around the room, trying to read the others’ expressions.

Beckett was the first to break the silence.

“That is the craziest shit I’ve ever heard,” Beckett said, raising his hands over his head in defeat. “And I’ve heard some crazy fucking shit!”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Hayes said, because truly, there was a part of him that was hoping to find solid evidence which would contradict his insane theory.

“Nope!” Beckett said. “I think you’re 100% right, but it’s still the craziest thing I’ve ever heard!”

That more or less summed up how Hayes had been feeling ever since he’d put the pieces together.

“It’s—” Matthew broke off, trying to come up with the right words.

“Think about it—if the important part is the content of the coffins and not the coffins themselves, then it makes sense to leave the truck unlocked in the middle of the parking lot. There’s nothing there to find that looked even remotely illegal. Besides, he’s not worried about people getting in. Rather, he’s worried about someone getting out,” Hayes speculated.

Matthew nodded, “Yes—” he sighed. “It’s insane enough—and all too likely. Now, how do we prove it?”

“We follow the trail,” Hayes replied calmly, because he’d figured this out as well. “It won’t take much—we could lift DNA from the coffins, track the armoured truck—I’m pretty sure most of his security measures are based on his belief that no one will be able to connect the dots more than anything else. We could try to rope the feds into this by explaining what we know—what we’ve seen, and what we think, and let them take it from there.”

“You think the feds will buy it?” Matthew asked doubtfully.

Hayes shrugged, then cast a look in Franklin’s direction. He’d been rather quiet so far.

“It’s wild, but it fits. He’s a narcissist. He refuses to allow himself to age—and his methods might sound extreme and unlikely to us, because we aren’t inclined to think like he does—but he’s an eccentric millionaire with more money than good sense,” Franklin responded.

“Fuck!” Matthew said, in an uncommon, angry outburst. He jumped up and stomped over to the window, raking his fingers through his hair and muttering curses.

Franklin watched him as he frowned thoughtfully.

“Aren’t you supposed to—canoodle with him, or some shit?” Beckett said with obvious disdain.

“Why?” Franklin asked, brow furrowed in confusion. “Nothing I could possibly say at this point would help. The guilt he feels—he’s partially responsible for that. The music must be faced, no?”

He was right about that, even if he’d been a little cold in the delivery.