Read Online Scarcity (Jack Randall #3) by Randall Wood - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Randall Wood
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on a jury in the first place.”
“So what do you suggest? Send him back to Columbia and let them try him?”
Lenny sighed and reached for his drink on the edge of the desk without taking his feet down. He almost lost his balance, but after grunting with the effort, managed to retrieve the scotch. He knocked it back before replying.
“Three years ago they caught Ruiz, the head of the Medellin cartel. He had a mistress he couldn’t stay away from and they caught him with his pants down. He had two judges killed and blew up the courthouse before he miraculously escaped. He sits in his mountaintop mansion now and never leaves. Evidently some kind of deal. We’ll never know.”
“Mexico?”
“Even worse. So far we have three names in the AFI, the Mexican FBI, and a few more in their government all involved with protecting shipments or outright assistance. Their government is so heavily infiltrated by the cartels they’ve become a joke. The Mexico border states are like the old west, the only law there are the cartels and their gangs.”
“It’s a battle,” Jack acknowledged. “I’m working on some changes you’ll soon see proposed in some bills.”
“I hope they’re serious changes. Anything else is just a waste of time and money.”
“What do you think of the legalize drugs theory?”
Lenny grimaced at that and leaned even farther back in the chair. He sat for a moment before dropping his feet to the floor and sticking out his empty glass.
“I’m gonna need more scotch if you want to talk about that.”
Jack poured another finger in his glass without a reply.
Lenny squirmed in his chair while he formed his thoughts. He had known Jack for a little over two years or so, but they had developed a good friendship and a mutual respect for one another. This wasn’t their first time drinking in his office, and he’d had dinner with him and his wife a few times. It was long enough to know that Jack wasn’t a political creature. All of which meant he could speak freely and it wouldn’t leave the room.
“We’re going to have to legalize dope.”
Jack’s expression didn’t change. He had come to that same conclusion himself since he had gotten involved in the homeland security project. To those who had never really educated themselves on the problem, it was blasphemy, an idea so outrageous it was immediately dismissed as ludicrous. To those in the know, it was the only way to win the so-called War on Drugs.
“We have to get the big money out of the equation, and the only way to do that is to legalize it, tax the hell out of it, and stiffen the penalties for offenses related to the use of it. Once the money is no longer a factor, you lose the turf wars, the gang warfare, the theft and robbery associated with it. The purity levels can be regulated, and that’ll diminish the threat of overdose. We could take the forty-plus billion we waste every year fighting the war and put it toward education and treatment. We could fund testing for employers, and they can keep their policies on hiring anyone found to be using. If we mirror the alcohol laws, it would be hard to set any court precedence that didn’t already exist. It’s actually hard to find a reason not to do it, other than the associated stigma and the general lack of knowledge on the subject by Joe the voter.”
“How much would we gain by taxing it?”
“It’s estimated to be as high as forty billion a year. Add that to the forty billion saved in police and prison costs and you have a sum that gets the attention of the politicians. And right now the country could use an extra eighty billion or so.”
“Wouldn’t there be an increase in the number of users?”
“A very small one, maybe, comparable to the slight increase in drinkers following the repeal of Prohibition, but people aren’t going to run out and start shooting heroin just because it became legal. The recovered addicts will say we’re idiots.”
“And the treatment
“So what do you suggest? Send him back to Columbia and let them try him?”
Lenny sighed and reached for his drink on the edge of the desk without taking his feet down. He almost lost his balance, but after grunting with the effort, managed to retrieve the scotch. He knocked it back before replying.
“Three years ago they caught Ruiz, the head of the Medellin cartel. He had a mistress he couldn’t stay away from and they caught him with his pants down. He had two judges killed and blew up the courthouse before he miraculously escaped. He sits in his mountaintop mansion now and never leaves. Evidently some kind of deal. We’ll never know.”
“Mexico?”
“Even worse. So far we have three names in the AFI, the Mexican FBI, and a few more in their government all involved with protecting shipments or outright assistance. Their government is so heavily infiltrated by the cartels they’ve become a joke. The Mexico border states are like the old west, the only law there are the cartels and their gangs.”
“It’s a battle,” Jack acknowledged. “I’m working on some changes you’ll soon see proposed in some bills.”
“I hope they’re serious changes. Anything else is just a waste of time and money.”
“What do you think of the legalize drugs theory?”
Lenny grimaced at that and leaned even farther back in the chair. He sat for a moment before dropping his feet to the floor and sticking out his empty glass.
“I’m gonna need more scotch if you want to talk about that.”
Jack poured another finger in his glass without a reply.
Lenny squirmed in his chair while he formed his thoughts. He had known Jack for a little over two years or so, but they had developed a good friendship and a mutual respect for one another. This wasn’t their first time drinking in his office, and he’d had dinner with him and his wife a few times. It was long enough to know that Jack wasn’t a political creature. All of which meant he could speak freely and it wouldn’t leave the room.
“We’re going to have to legalize dope.”
Jack’s expression didn’t change. He had come to that same conclusion himself since he had gotten involved in the homeland security project. To those who had never really educated themselves on the problem, it was blasphemy, an idea so outrageous it was immediately dismissed as ludicrous. To those in the know, it was the only way to win the so-called War on Drugs.
“We have to get the big money out of the equation, and the only way to do that is to legalize it, tax the hell out of it, and stiffen the penalties for offenses related to the use of it. Once the money is no longer a factor, you lose the turf wars, the gang warfare, the theft and robbery associated with it. The purity levels can be regulated, and that’ll diminish the threat of overdose. We could take the forty-plus billion we waste every year fighting the war and put it toward education and treatment. We could fund testing for employers, and they can keep their policies on hiring anyone found to be using. If we mirror the alcohol laws, it would be hard to set any court precedence that didn’t already exist. It’s actually hard to find a reason not to do it, other than the associated stigma and the general lack of knowledge on the subject by Joe the voter.”
“How much would we gain by taxing it?”
“It’s estimated to be as high as forty billion a year. Add that to the forty billion saved in police and prison costs and you have a sum that gets the attention of the politicians. And right now the country could use an extra eighty billion or so.”
“Wouldn’t there be an increase in the number of users?”
“A very small one, maybe, comparable to the slight increase in drinkers following the repeal of Prohibition, but people aren’t going to run out and start shooting heroin just because it became legal. The recovered addicts will say we’re idiots.”
“And the treatment
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