Upon arrival at Kincaid’s business, Evergreen Import Export International, Mat armed the alarm on his BMW M3 and entered the building.  A pretty, mid-thirties blonde in a translucent white blouse covering a lacy, well-filled bra sat at the reception desk.  She greeted him.  “Mr. Crawford, I presume?”

“Yes, I’m here to see Jack.”

“Of course, sir.  He’s expecting you.  Right down the hall to the right.” She pointed to Jack’s office, like he didn’t know where to go. 

“Would you like a coffee or anything else?” she asked, smiling seductively. 

Mat noticed that she was friendly enough, as you’d expect from a receptionist, but moreover, she had that aura about her that men instinctively pick up on that implied come and get it mister.  This girl was on the make, but Mat was here on business, and besides, he had a good woman at home and wasn’t into chasing skirts.

“No thanks.  Your offer will be on my mind though.” Mat returned the smile as he proceeded down the hall.

Walking in, Mat reached out to shake Jack’s hand.  “Hello Jack.  Good to see you.”

“Likewise, my friend.”  Jack smiled and stood up, unfolding his tall, ungainly frame from the chair to tower over Mathew.  He extended his hand, completing the greeting formalities. 

“Have a seat.  I would like to tell you about some associates of mine that have a little problem they need help with.”

“All right.  I’m all ears.  What’s on your mind?”

“Around a week ago, a group of importers brought in a shipment of a pharmaceutical nature from China in a container aboard a cargo ship.  It has a street value of $50 million, conservatively speaking.”  Jack looked intently at Mathew over the top of his glasses.

This was a sum much larger than Mat had ever worked with and his first reaction was to immediately decline any involvement, as it would be too risky. Instead, he remained quiet and listened carefully.

Jack continued, “Now, in the import business, there is always the possibility that a shipment can get diverted from its intended destination, or sometimes, go missing completely. It seems that in this case, the ship had to be re-routed to a terminal other than the one originally scheduled at the Port of Vancouver.  You see, the ship’s captain is somewhat of a businessman himself, and he had been contacted before leaving the port of origin in China.  He had been offered an enticement, shall we say, to change the destination terminal at the last possible moment, to deliver the shipment to an alternate buyer, for a considerable fee, of course.”

Mat summarized in plain English. “Someone sent a shipment of drugs, likely heroine or cocaine from China to Vancouver and the Captain was bribed, and he agreed to deliver it to another gang at a different port terminal.”

“Yes.  That would be another way of putting it,” Jack agreed.

Mat added, “And let me guess.  Now they have fifty million bucks worth of stolen drugs and somebody else wants it back.”

“Your astute insight never disappoints me, Mr. Crawford. Now, keep in mind, the street value of the shipment is fifty million.  The investor had only put up five million, with another five million due upon delivery ─ still a considerable sum of money.  And the vendor, back in China, is an organization of international scope and ability.  They want their full payment of ten million, or else someone is going to get eaten alive,” Jack explained figuratively – or perhaps literally.

“So I don’t quite get it.”  Mat interjected. “What do you think I can do for this little love triangle? There’s no money yet to launder.  It’s just a shipment of stolen drugs.  No cash.”

“Ah, but once this product hits the streets the cash will start to flow like honey.  My client wants us, that is, you, to launder the funds on an ongoing basis, until the product is fully liquidated.  It should take around three to four months to sell it to the first line of distributors. 

“That much product will be in circulation among dealers and users for at least a year.  You will be paid a fee of ten percent, plus a million bonus for successfully converting one hundred percent of the proceeds without detection or incident.”  Jack Kincaid smiled innocuously as he offered up the numbers.

Mathew summed up the salient points of risk.  “And in the mean time I’ve got some Chinese mob trying to find and kill anybody tied to this stolen shipment, there’s a gang here who has been ripped off of a $10 million investment, and then there’s the cops who may already be tipped off about this caper and may have under covers combing the streets for information.” 

“Six million bucks,” Jack summed up the potential profit to Mat.

“And what’s in it for you, Jack?” Mat wondered aloud.

“Oh, Lordy, Lordy, don’t worry about me.  I’ll be well taken care of by the end of it all.  I’m in business to make a profit, rest assured.  I’ll get what I deserve.”

Mat said, “I’m not going to give you an answer right here and now.  This is big and it’s dangerous.  I need to consider it on my own for a while, weigh the risks.  None of the product has been converted to cash yet, anyways.”

Jack replied, “Yes, that’s true.  But we need an answer, fast, because the product will have to move fast to minimize the potential for violence.  The quicker the deal goes down, the faster the whole thing will blow over.  You know these types.  They move from project to project faster than hookers go through Johns in the downtown eastside.  Once the deal starts, it will fall like dominoes.  All the players need to be in place by this weekend.  You have ‘til Wednesday to let me know.  You’re my first choice, Mat, but you’re not my only choice.”

Mathew studied the man, trying to think of any obvious questions that should be asked.  “Okay, I’ll let you know by Wednesday.  If I’m in, though, I’m gonna need a lot more information.  I’m not playing blind at these stakes.  Let’s go over the whole thing, soup to nuts, right now.”

“Understood,” replied Jack, and for the next thirty minutes he laid out all that he knew about the hijacked shipment of narcotics and the nefarious parties involved.

The meeting was concluded at that.  Mat stood and exited the office.  He walked down the hallway and smiled at the comely, young receptionist again.  As he left the building, she turned off the intercom on her telephone disconnecting her line to Mr. Kincaid’s office.  Her eyes widened in astonishment at what she had just overheard.