Mark Well’s fixed me with a smug stare. “Are you a private investigator?”
My worst fear. I had no idea what brought this on, so I feigned surprise. “Me, a private eye?”
“I talked to Sam, the deli owner downstairs. Sam said he never spoke to you.”
I knew Mark was lying. Like a poker game, I called his bluff.
“Funny, I handed Sam a business card. I told him Hot Apparel fashions hired me to scout office space and wanted catering and coffee delivered.”
I had made sure Sam saw dollar bills rolling in from my fictitious company, before nonchalantly mentioning it was looking for local business leads. I knew Sam would be happy to recommend Mark’s company in the same building.
Mark continued with his bluff.
“When we met, you said Sam recommended my company to you.” His eyes narrowed accusingly. “I’m not buying your story.”
Hoping to convince Mark, I pulled out the envelope, opened it, and showed him three grand in cash. “Here’s the ten percent on the deal for Fancy Bell knockoff apparel.”
He hesitated but remained adamant. “Nothing doing, I want you to leave.”
Mark raised the stakes, even though I had shown him the money. But I had a trump card to play. “Would you believe me if I provide business names?”
Mark fell silent. Finally, “What do you mean?”
“You can ask for a recommendation from people I’m doing business with. I have flexibility to negotiate side deals as an independent account rep. Overstock, parallel imports, remainder and counterfeit apparel.”
Mark agreed if I was an independent account rep, not a private eye, I would have industry contacts.
I gave Mark business names from my cell phone directory. He didn’t know they were in various stages of investigation. Fortunately, I use the same undercover name and scam business cards for all investigations.
I had one caveat. I told Mark not to mention counterfeit apparel. This was in keeping with my cover.
Mark called the owner of Sexy Intimates, who had no idea I was a private investigator representing a client. We had discussed a deal for knockoffs of a well-known brand of women’s lingerie.
After introducing himself, Mark asked, “Do you know an independent account rep named Frank Winston?”
“Sure, I know Frank. He’s a great guy.”
The next business owner Mark called vouched for me.
Mark sighed. “You’re on the level. I confess I was testing you. Sam said he talked to you. Sorry, I must be careful with a large deal.”
Fold, game over.
Mark owned several warehouses. He drove me to one and showed me the Fancy Bell counterfeits, men’s and women’s in various sizes and colors. Boxed and ready for delivery.
Inspection completed, I handed Mark the envelope with the money and said I’d call to arrange a pickup date and payment of the balance.
The next day I met with Joshua Trilling, corporate counsel for Fancy Bell apparel, and gave him an update.
“Mark sounds like a pisser.” Josh chuckled. He told me the judge had signed the seizure order and two U.S. Marshals were ready to back us up and take Mark into custody.
The plan called for Josh to inspect the apparel. Although unlikely, Josh had to be sure Mark, who suspected I was a private eye, hadn’t substituted genuine Fancy Bell apparel and moved the counterfeits until he was certain this was not a seizure.
I rented a box truck. With another investigator riding shotgun, the three of us drove to the warehouse. The U.S. Marshals tailed us and would remain nearby.
Payday came. Time to collect.
Mark was waiting for us at the warehouse.
Josh opened a box, checked the apparel inside, then handed Mark a briefcase. Instead of cash, Mark was surprised to find a seizure order. His smile disappeared.
“I knew you were an investigator,” Mark scowled, as Josh made a call on his cell phone.
When we heard the wail of a police siren, the other investigator and I began loading the truck. Minutes later, Mark was handcuffed.
[Image Credit : Photo by Jigar Panchal on Unsplash]
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