Free The Fugitive Game: Online With Kevin Mitnick by Jonathan Littman Page B

Consultant" Justin [Eric's real name] had
once told me that all of his rent and living expenses were paid for by
the FBI. Though I was always curious what he did for the FBI I
knew that the FBI would soon find that employing Justin in any
capacity was a grave mistake and quickly rid themselves of his ser-
vices. I began to wonder how he was supporting himseif. How
could he afford a BMW? I noticed that the house had an expensive
directional antenna on the roof. How could he afford that, the ra-
dio equipment he'd been seen with, a car phone, telephoto camera,
etc?.. . The only time in the past that he'd made any substantial
amount of money was through credit card fraud or placing wiretaps and selling credit information to the private investigation
firm.... I began to wonder about his motives for the intense inter-
est in Drug Enforcement Agency surveillances. Could he be selling
the information he obtained to those being watched by the DEA?
— Ron Austin, memo to the FBI, 1993
    Four a.m. one August morning, Austin arrives at 2270 Laurel Can-
yon Boulevard, two hours before the Thursday morning garbage
men make their regular rounds.
    He doesn't look like the type who'd rummage through garbage.
He's got a bit of a tan, shaggy blond hair that hangs over his pene-
trating, intelligent eyes, a strong, square jaw, and a straight nose.
He's athletic, though his shoulders hunch and he tends to stare at the
ground as he walks.
    He drags the bin quietly around the corner and removes the lid.
Austin slowly draws out a wad of Saran wrap, tangled with duct
tape and Vaseline, remnants from Eric's latest bondage session. He's
glad he's worn the gloves.
    Flashlight in hand, Austin digs out bits of Eric's garbage: VIP
passes for a weekly evening, "On the Rox," Eric co-hosts at a private
Sunset club. There's a slick drawing of a sexy woman pursing her
lips with the caption "I'm so excited I could spit." Austin smooths
out the next piece of paper from the bin, a crumpled computer print-
out titled "G: Girls," with entries such as "Heather, met at Bar
One," and "Lesa, Oriental," and notations like "Crazy Girls" and
"20/20" — a couple of Hollywood strip joints. Next, there's a
business card listing Eric Heinz as an "Electronic Surveillance Spe-
cialist," with expertise in "phone tap detection" and "high-tech
debugging."
    Austin comes up empty-handed the following two Thursdays, but
he's persistent. On September 2, 1993, he stumbles onto a parking
ticket issued just days ago for the BMW, phones the Parking Viola-
tions Bureau, and learns the car has four hundred dollars in unpaid
parking tickets. The same morning he retrieves discarded collection
notices for Sprint and MCI bills in the name of Joseph Wernle.
    The next couple of weeks' pickings are so-so: a one-page hand-
written list of sixty hijacked cable channels, nearly nine hundred
dollars of prescription bills gone to collectors, and a scrap of paper
that names the electronics chain The Good Guys, with an account
number that Austin discovers was closed due to "fraudulent ac-
tivity."
    Finally, on September 23, 1993, nearly six weeks after he began
his regular trash inspections, Austin finds something solid. "Top
200" reads the note, in what appears to be Eric's handwriting:
    1. L.A.P.D.
    2. Misc P.D.
    3. D.E.A.
    4. F.B.I.
    5. S.S. + Marshall
    6. P.S.
    7. Fire + Rescue.
    8. Cellular.
    9. Cordless
10. Spooks.
    Top 10 is more like it. Eric has programmed his scanner's memory
with about ten frequencies — the FBI, the DEA, the Secret Service,
and others. What surprises Austin is item six, Eric's new interest in
the postal service. But the biggest clue is a single scrap of paper Aus-
tin plucks from Eric's trash October 7.
    #3 G — pencil
    #3 Go — pert
    #3 P — Crayon
    #4 — Blue Marker
    #4 Go — Gold Marker
    #5— Red Marker
    #5 — Gold Silver Marker
    #6 — Spray Paint
    AT — Ass Tounger
    7-11 — feeder
    Gas Station — burn
    Pesos — Monopoly
    PI — Dudley
    PD —