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Ghost Stories: Scams Targeting S.F.'s Cantonese Community Reveal the Terrible Power of Belief
By Albert Samaha
The officers fail to find the kilo. Perhaps he ditched the drugs somewhere between his house and when Mac spotted him on Geneva.
Driving through the projects, Mac sees the kingpin of the Samoan gang, sitting in his car. He decides to take him on. As soon as Mac gets out of the car, six or seven youths, some Samoan, some not, come from nowhere and take positions surrounding Mac as he jacks up the druglord. Mac ignores them.
He asks permission and looks in the gangster's car. He walks around the corner and eyes the trash. Still nothing. "Thanks man," Mac says to the druglord as he gets back in the Gran Fury.
A few blocks later, a call comes over the phone. It's Hendrix. Earlier in the day, Mac and Pot located a Potrero Hill hood that Jerry Banks had been using as an alibi. Mac had convinced the hood to go to the Hall of Justice and talk to Hendrix. "He tore Terry's alibi apart," Mac announces, happy that the day bore fruit.
Continued...
