Johnny Undercover, Miracle Worker

One of the weird things about being a PI is that, since your job is not that clearly defined, people assume you can do anything. Things like access Federal databases, turn water into wine (man, I wish), divide prime numbers evenly, etc…

Well guess what, spellbound disciples…I probably can. I have long held the theory that anything can be done if you throw enough money at it. Ahhh, but therein lies the quandary:

“If you throw enough money at it…”

So let me modify my previous statement. People believe you can do anything…FOR FREE.

F-R-E-E. How I hate those four little letters. So contrary to everything I represent and aspire to. Free is my antithesis…my Kryptonite…my Dr. Moriarity…Yang to my Yin, Cain to my Able, Yogi Bear to my pic-a-nic basket…

Understand me, mere mortals, nothing gets done for free. Nada por gratis.

Why the rant, you ask? Well, other than the recent change in my medications, I got a request for help.

For free.

Nice lady e-mails me. Seems her hubby recently opted to trade up to Wifey Ver 2.0. A few weeks ago she believed she had substantial assets. Turns out she has squat. Hubby, being the only one in on the plan (which always helps), has pilfered out ½ a million dollars over the past ten years via “business trips” to sunny Mexico.

Where he currently resides. With his new wife, who I won’t identify by name. Let’s just call her by her scientific classification…Whoreus Homewreckerus.

If you know anything about money laundering (or if you prefer, asset relocation), you’ve already heard enough. That money? The fruits of all she’s worked and toiled for? That representation of all her hopes and dreams for the future?


She asked me to look into it Pro Bono, and promised to pay double my usual rate for such services once she gets her divorce judgment. I didn’t even bother telling her the only thing I do Pro Bono is write fan letters to U2. No need to even give that speech, because she’ll never see dem dere pesos, no matter what I find out. Dey goooooooooonnnnneeeee…..

Which, by the way, I did find out. Starry Eyed and Adoring Wife took pity on her plight and demanded I find out SOMETHING to help her out, at least for her divorce case.


Know what I found out? He’s a pretty smart guy. He moved the money out in small increments via frequent, legitimate business trips to Mexico. My source in Mexico City advised me he’s listed as the owner of some prime oceanfront condos and various other real estate holdings throughout the country.

In other words…he won.

Sorry, I don’t like it any more than you. But for years she blindly trusted him to oversee the finances. She faithfully believed he was providing for a good future for her and their children. And she got screwed.

Darwinism 101, spellbound disciples. The strong and smart will devour the weak and naïve. They always have, and they always will until that Guy in the bible with the red lettering comes back and kicks all the bad people in the crotch.

That’s what it says, right? I kinda zoned out in Sunday School…

Could she get her share of that money back? Probably. Can she afford the long and protracted legal battle over international assets?


Anyways, the whole point of that story was to illustrate that ultimately in the end…I did it for free.


Rumors of My Death Have Been Greatly Exaggerated

Okay, Faithful Readers. On some level, I understand that leaving you for months at a time is unacceptable.

On the other hand…you’ll get over it.

I got called up yet again to hurricane duty, so what can you do? Now I’m back in Big D for more spying and lying. Temperatures in Dallas are quickly gravitating from merely hellish to nightmarish, so I’m looking forward to getting back on surveillance.

Yes, I’ve always been a smartass. My father was a smartass, as was his father before him and so on and so on ad infinitum. Nature will always kick nurture’s ass. Nature fights dirtier.

So call off the search and rescue teams and tear up those suicide notes…Daddy’s back.

My Ecosystem Details