American History 1988
Chapter 32 - 29: Killing Three Birds with One Stone

Chapter 32: Chapter 29: Killing Three Birds with One Stone

On his first day as a part-time moving worker, he experienced a moment that was nothing short of harrowing. Dean couldn’t help but wonder if he was just too lucky.

He had long heard that in the land of the free, America, shootings happened every day, but only personal experience brought to life the thrill of it.

Even though the house was now surrounded by several police cars, Dean’s body still trembled uncontrollably.

But this wasn’t entirely out of fear, rather it was probably more of a psychological thrill.

"Dean, I’ve spoken to John and the others. I’ll take you home first, and they’ll head to the south of the city," Frank said, after negotiating with the crew, preparing to take Dean home.

It was still morning, and today’s work had just begun. As someone who had struggled in this city for decades at the bottom rung, John and his team were well accustomed to all of this.

If a day went by in Youngstown without a few gunshots, they would even start to wonder if America had been invaded.

However, Dean shook his head and rejected Frank’s kind offer. "Uncle Frank, I’m fine, just a bit... excited."

"But Dean, this is too dangerous. Rachel will definitely give me an earful when we get back," Rachel had entrusted Dean to Frank that morning when they left.

If she were to find out that just two hours after leaving the house, bullets had flown past the pair, Rachel would certainly slam the bowl of spaghetti she was holding onto his face.

"Don’t worry, Aunt Rachel won’t find out about this," Dean winked at Frank, "It was just an accident, wasn’t it? And besides, our next stop is the south side of town."

"Hmm," Frank nodded thoughtfully, "You’re right, it was just an accident. But if you want to keep following us, you must listen to my commands. Leaving on your own like you did in the kitchen just now is absolutely not allowed."

Frank was referring to when Dean had gone to the kitchen alone to fetch a frying pan, which was obviously a bit irrational under the circumstances.

"No problem," Dean assured, patting his chest. If it hadn’t been to eliminate some trouble earlier, he would have been more spineless than anyone else.

"By the way, Uncle Frank, did the police find any clues in the house?" Dean casually inquired after the crew started moving again.

"Just another typical drug den, places like that are a dime a dozen in Youngstown. The police will take away contraband and leave, nothing unusual."

Frank had come across several drug dens himself, and normally the sheriffs would turn a blind eye, carrying out only evictions.

It was not until they were out and on the road that they would report back to the station. Unfortunately, today, the druggies had opted to return home halfway through.

Clearly, they were unaware that an eviction procedure was scheduled, which was likely a trick played by the landlord.

The landlord wanted to use the law enforcement as a tool to force out these dangerous elements, and while his plan worked, the sheriff’s office would surely send him a fine afterwards.

Sometimes during evictions decreed by the court, many tenants don’t even show up for the hearing. The consequence of their absence is presumed consent to the eviction, and Frank and his team would often find tenants bewildered by it all when they arrived.

That was exactly what had happened just now, and knowing that the police hadn’t found anything extra in the house, Dean breathed a sigh of relief.

He didn’t know if all the cards he gave to Reed were in there, but judging by the feel of it earlier, that thick stack was either all or most of them.

In the rumbling of the engine, the fleet made its way to the south of the city. Once out of the east end, everyone’s mood visibly relaxed a lot, as experience said that jobs in the south end were usually the easiest.

Typically, by the time they went to carry out an eviction there, most tenants had already moved out, which meant they often uncovered a lot.

As expected, they arrived at the home of the tech enthusiast. Once Frank had confirmed there were no dangers, Dean entered the room and found many treasures.

Amiga 500, Commodore’s model released just a couple of years earlier. There was also Compaq’s Deskpro 386, and they seemed to be in very good condition.

Dean, thrilled with his finds, wished he could take everything in the room home, though that was impossible. After picking out a few more floppy disks and CDs, he managed to buy them all for 200 US dollars.

Yes, the items in the house might be deemed abandoned property, but it was a case of ’finders, keepers.’ This 200 US dollars was mainly a cut for the foremen, John and Tom.

Even if Frank was their leader, everyone had to play by the rules. After paying the 200 dollars, John and the others thoughtfully packed the two computers for Dean and placed them in the trunk of Frank’s car.

To them, these things were worthless, as they wouldn’t know their value; even if they tried to sell them, they might not fetch a good price. If that was the case, it was better to take the 200 US dollars in cash and do a favor for Frank on the side.

After getting home, Dean spent the entire night collating the three computers into a makeshift server setup in the garage.

It should suffice for a while, but the best option was always to use a professional server. The cost, however, was too high, with the cheapest ones running into tens of thousands of US dollars, which was well out of Dean’s reach.

No, he needed to find more ways to make money. Financial constraints like these were keeping many of Dean’s ideas off the agenda.

...

"Uncle Frank, does Eagle Moving Company have much information about housing?" at the breakfast table in the early morning, Dean started to inquire about Youngstown’s housing market.

"What exactly are you referring to?" Frank stuffed a sandwich into his mouth, looking at him curiously.

"Like information about tenants and landlords, who has eviction records, and which landlords have been fined by the Housing Authority and so on," Dean was pondering how to make money from this information.

"Oh, we do keep that part of the records in our archives. As per the procedures set by the court, we are required to maintain records of each eviction. But Dean, why are you interested in it?"

Frank felt Dean’s interests were a bit odd; shouldn’t young people his age be more into Hollywood celebrities or sports stars?

Dean spread his hands, "I just want to do a little extracurricular research on housing, you know Frank, I plan to transfer to Stanford in the second half of this year."

"Great, Dean! That’s a prestigious private university in America, and if you succeed, the Price family will have a big shot in the future!" shouted Aunt Rachel, carrying milk out of the kitchen, cheering Dean on loudly.

Frank shrugged his shoulders, then told Dean some unexpected news. "If these materials are of any help to you, you can come see me at Eagle Company after work. But there’s another place you might consider, Dean."

"Where?" asked Dean curiously.

"The courthouse," Frank raised his eyebrows at him.

"The courthouse?" This was far beyond Dean’s expectations.

"That’s right," Frank said, pulling out a tissue to wipe his mouth, "All eviction cases are handled in court, and they regularly make this information public, though not many people pay attention to it."

Like most states in America, Ohio believes that citizens have the right to know about various criminal and civil cases within the state.

So the courts in the state regularly open their case exhibition rooms, where all cases are accessible to anyone.

But obviously, facing tedious documents, few people are willing to waste their time on them.

Upon learning this, Dean raised his eyebrows, and a more aggressive idea formed in his mind.

Why sell information at all? He could completely go and collaborate with the court, developing a software on the pretext of the right to civic information for the courts of Youngstown.

This software, ostensibly free for all, would allow the search of court publicized case information. It could even be further enhanced to become a working software for the court, with public case searches as one of its features.

Dean believed that the big shots in the court could not refuse such an "achievement."

With it, those politicians could proudly claim in their speeches or elections that they had made an indelible contribution to the promotion of law in Ohio.

Of course, to persuade them, Dean would also have to offer something.

And once the software was created, Dean could also add a colorful note in the extracurricular activities section of his transfer application.

Lastly, with the software, Dean could develop a reskinned version that would be exclusively accessible to landlords.

This would be akin to a luxury edition DLC, open only to those who paid.

Look at that, three benefits in one, Dean’s eyes grew brighter and brighter.

"Dean, Miss Karen asked you to stop by Charlotte Street later, she said the water heater in the bathroom is broken again."

As Dean was immersed in his daydream, Aunt Rachel in the living room reminded him from afar with the phone in her hand that there was work to be done.

"How is it broken again? I just checked it the other day, and there were no problems at all." His dream interrupted, Dean complained with resignation.

"Who knows, maybe Miss Karen uses it too often," Aunt Rachel shrugged her shoulders, "By the way, Dean, when do you start school?"

"January 20th, about two weeks from now," said Dean as he got up to head to Charlotte Street.

"You’d better get it sorted out before then; I can guarantee that if you leave it to Peter, Miss Karen will surely move out early," remarked Aunt Rachel.

"Okay, auntie~" Dean put on his jacket and left.

...

Charlotte Street, Dean stood in front of his own house and pressed the doorbell several times, but no one answered.

Didn’t they say the water heater was broken? Where is everyone?

"Is that you, Dean?" came a faint voice from inside.

"It’s me, Karen. Aunt said the water heater is broken, so she sent me to take a look."

"Come in, the door is unlocked. You arrived just in time; can you see what the problem is?" Karen’s voice came from inside.

"Sure, just a moment," Dean entered the house, pushing the door open, but after scanning the place, he saw no one.

"Karen?" Dean called out tentatively.

"I’m here," Karen, wrapped in a towel, poked her head out of the bathroom, "Come this way."

Huh, Dean felt there was something fishy going on.

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